My fingers squeezed his, trying to convey my innermost thoughts, and he took that as his cue to bring my knuckles to his lips for another kiss, before shooting me a dopey smile that I reciprocated.
Hunter drove with one hand. We cruised down the highway and the sun shone bright, enhancing my mood. Though I suspected my lifted spirits mostly had to do with him. After a moment of companionable silence, he hedged, “What are you thinking?”
That if I allow myself to dream bigger, you’ll start to feel like my very own happily ever after.
“Nothing. Just how much I love being driven by you.”
“Yeah?”
There was something incredibly sexy about him behind the wheel, driving such a powerful car with smoothness and sheer confidence.
“Mhm. Who needs a license when you have a hot neighbour to drive you around?”
“Neighbour, huh?” he volleyed back playfully. “That all I am to you?”
No, you’re beginning to feel likeeverythingto me.
“Yup.” I popped the P at the end, my tone teasing. “Why, do you want to be more?”
He shook his head with a smile, mouthing the word brat under his breath. My shoulders shook with a silent chuckle. We both knew how much he adored me.
My eyes veered towards his dashboard. He was driving a respectable hundred kilometres an hour. Unable to help myself, I blurted, “Does your sports car go any faster?”
“Of course it does.” He tsked. “But I’m not driving recklessly while you’re seated next to me, Gabby.”
I was pleased that my safety was always his concern. Still wanting to toy with him, I muttered a low, “Pussy.”
Hunter cut me a brief glance before a depraved smirk touched his lips. I watched as he floored the gas, hitting one-sixty within seconds. My breath whooshed out, my body plastering against the leather seat from the high speed. “I guess you are what you eat.”
I burst into a giggle.
The look in his eyes said he loved that sound.
Then he lowered the speed back to the highway limit. In a quarter of an hour, we reached a cute brunch spot I’d been meaning to check out. We were seated at a bistro-style table next to the window, overlooking a scenic sight. A waitress came to take our orders and we decided to share a salad and try their popular Croque Madame sandwiches.
We washed everything down with a drink—iced mocha for me, black coffee for Hunter—and powdered sugar beignets, while chatting about the latest true-crime podcast we were listening to and narrowing down the list of horror movies we wanted to watch before the end of the month. It was a delicious meal. I tried to grab the bill, but Hunter beat me to it. “What did I tell you, Gabby?”
I gave him a rueful expression. “That you never let a woman pay when she’s out with you.”
“Exactly.” He wiped the remnant sugar from my bottom lip and kissed me. “Now let’s go. We have another place to be.”
Hand in hand, we crossed the parking lot towards his car.
“Thank you for the meal, Hunt.”
“Thank you for the company and conversation, sweetheart.”
Hunter started driving again and I busied myself with gazing into my compact mirror, swiping another coat of red lipstick. Throughout the journey, Hunter gave me soft, possessive glances. My heart glowed warm.
Before I knew it, we arrived at our next stop.
Currently, we were standing inside one of my favourite places in the world.
A bookstore.
“So what’s the plan?” I asked. “Did you need to pick up some titles for your new shelf?”
The last time I was at his place, I saw the bookshelf he’d set up in the living room, right next to the TV. It was barren and in desperate need to be filled with colourful spines.
