Polly’s optimism swept her along and for the first time Laura recognised how smart her younger sister really was.
* * *
Hunter dug the photo he’d carried around for the last twenty years out of his bag. The crumpled, out-of-focus shot showed a group of fifteen or so teenage boys gathered outside an imposing red brick building. He ran his index finger over Danny Pearce’s shock of white-blond hair. What was the best way to contact him? They could hardly turn up on his doorstep, and a phone call struck him as equally abrupt. He surely wouldn’t accept a Facebook friend request from people who’d made his young lifea misery, which left the old-fashioned option of writing a letter. But what to say?
‘I’m home. This is the best they could do.’ Laura struck a model girl pose in the doorway, shimmying her hips in a fit-where-it-touched silk dress which was the enticing colour of warm caramel. ‘Polly insisted on buying this for me at the spa boutique. She said I wasn’t coming back here in my boring jeans and jumper.’
His long, slow whistle made her blush. ‘Wow, I’d no idea they could work miracles. Worth every penny.’
‘Throw in the silver dress and ankle-breaking heels tomorrow and I might as well be a Barbie doll.’
He made a playful grab for her and kissed away every scrap of Laura’s glossy peach lipstick. ‘I’ll kick Ken to the kerb.’
‘Have you been checking up more about Danny?’ She gestured to his computer with the screen still open at a website about the history of the now defunct Greystone Institution.
‘Well yeah, but don’t you have wedding stuff to do with Polly?’
Laura laughed. ‘I’m banned from helping to decorate on the grounds that I apparently wouldn’t know a winter wonderland from a hole in the ground.’
‘Sounds like you’ve had a lucky escape.’
‘Considering you told me that your usual New Year’s resolution is to stay single I certainly don’t see you and wedding planning as a match made in heaven either.’
Her casual dismissal stung.
‘Come on now, you aren’t trying to tell me you’ve had a change of heart?’
‘I’d hardly go that far . . .’
‘But?’
If he told the flat-out truth she might throw him out again but he refused to lie. Laura rested a finger on his lips, her eyes wide with pleading.
‘Wrong time. Okay? Show me what you’ve been working on.’
He should be grateful for the reprieve, so why did it suck?
* * *
It took every ounce of self-control to hold her nerve under Hunter’s scrutiny.
Being Polly’s bridesmaid next week is the closest I plan on getting to an altar again.
She’d meant every word, but now? Maybe he wasn’t the only one rethinking the subject.
‘Sure.’ Hunter’s deep voice rumbled through her. ‘If you’ve nothing better to do I’d be glad of your input.’
Looking at the screen together meant sitting close. Too close. Inhaling his familiar scent was bad enough but the press of his solid arm against hers and the shadow of stubble darkening his jaw where he hadn’t shaved in a couple of days conspired to undo her resolve. Her fingers were within touching distance of his thick hair until he pulled out an elastic band and yanked it back in a rough ponytail.
‘Damn stuff gets in the way.’
‘Have you always had it long?’
A weary smile creased his face. ‘Nah, I grew it to piss off my short-back-and-sides father and kinda got used to it, I guess.’ Hunter’s eyes brightened. ‘Women either love it or hate it. Sorts things out real fast.’ The huskiness of his voice hinted they were on dangerous ground because they both knew which category she fell into. ‘I held onto this photograph taken at the centre. That’s Danny, front row, right hand side with the light hair.’ He rambled through the various ways he’d considered to get back in touch.
‘I agree a letter is your best bet.’
‘But what the hell do we say?’ he almost shouted. ‘Sorry we messed up your life, pal. How you doin’ these days?’
