My mother was usually tough as nails, but when it came to her sons she was as soft as a marshmallow.
The pain of not having talked to her in over two years hit me unexpectedly. I used to hang out in the kitchen with her all the time. We’d chat about everything. For the first time since I left home, I questioned my decision to do so.
“You doing okay? Not planning on running away tonight, are you?” Gunner asked, done with the dishes.
“Too cold and dark. But tomorrow is a new day,” I said, shrugging.
He grunted and checked on the fire.
The sun had set while we were eating, and I slumped in my chair, exhausted. Attempted kidnapping would do that to a girl.
But if I wanted to sleep in the bed tonight, I had to find sheets first. I heaved myself out of my comfortable slouch, went to the bed, and got down on my knees, pulling out the plastic boxes Gunner mentioned.
There were no holes, and the sheets seemed fine. After I’d made the bed, I went to the bathroom, each step an effort. Much to my surprise—and delight—a new toothbrush, face cream, and hairbrush sat next to the sink.
Gunner’s attention to detail was astounding. How he’d managed to have stuff for me in his emergency bag was anyone’s guess.
I did my thing in the bathroom, taking my time. I couldn’t deny the magnetic pull he still had over me and hoped some time away from him would calm down my libido.
Scrape your dignity off the floor right now and don’t let it faint at the sight of muscles again. You can do better than that ape.
When I came back out, Gunner was nowhere to be found. I worried about where he was for all of two seconds before springing into action.Where did he put the car keys?
I checked every nook and cranny in the small cabin but came up empty. I was busy opening drawers and didn’t hear Gunner come back in.
“You’re either looking for keys or a knife,” he said, and I slammed the drawer on my hand in my haste to shut it.
“Fuck,” I cried out and removed my hand that was turning an angry shade of red.
Gunner was at my side in three strides and cradled my hand in his giant paw. “Can you move your fingers?”
They all moved, but it hurt a lot to do.
“Doesn’t look like anything’s broken, just bruised,” he said. After leading me to the sink in the kitchen, he put my hand under cold water. His movements were slow and measured, as if he was holding fine china instead of a hand. “I don’t have any ice since the fridge was off, but the cold water should help.”
I didn’t respond since I was too busy staring at my hand. The cold water numbed the pain, and I didn’t think I’d done much damage.
He removed my hand from the water after a few minutes and wrapped it in a wet dishtowel. “I’ll fill the ice cube tray in the freezer. It should be frozen by tomorrow.”
Gunner brushed my hair out of my face, the gesture making me feel all kinds of melty and confused. I wish I could just turn this annoying chemistry off.
“Your pajamas are in there,” he said, nodding to one of the bags he’d brought inside.
The thought of having to do anything with my hand wasn’t appealing, so I decided to sleep in what I was wearing. My black leggings and baggy off-the-shoulder sweater would be comfortable enough.
“I’ll just give them a miss tonight,” I said, sitting down on the side of the bed.
“Sleeping in the nude?” he asked, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “I didn’t think this was where our relationship was heading.”
I widened my eyes at him and fake gasped. “Was that a joke?”
He bellowed a laugh, and the corner of my mouth twitched in an effort not to smile.
“Why don’t we start over?” he said, raising his brows at me.
I looked at him, intrigued. “Like we’ve never met before?”
“Kind of,” he said and held out his hand. “Hi. I’m Gunner.”
