I stepped back into the living room, hugging my arms around me. It was getting cold, and I wasn’t dressed for our expedition.
“I’ll get the fire going in a minute. Just want to make sure the fridge is working first. I’ll go hunting tomorrow so we’ll have fresh meat,” Gunner said from where he was wedged behind the fridge.
I cringed at the thought of eating anything he shot. I wasn’t a vegetarian by any means, but I preferred my meat to be unrecognizable. I was a committed hypocrite like that.
The fridge hummed to life, and he came out from behind it and pushed it back against the wall.
I didn’t know what to do next, so I stood in front of the bathroom door like a forgotten piece of furniture.
“You hungry?” Gunner asked on his way to the front door.
“A little,” I said, not moving.
He left and came back in a few moments later with an armful of wood, stacking it next to the fireplace. “Help yourself to whatever is on the shelf and underneath the counter.”
I walked into the kitchen and perused the long shelf above the stove that was stacked with a variety of tins. I lifted the sheet that covered the area underneath the counter and found more of the same, so I decided on baked beans and tuna for lack of other options.
The oven was gas, and I lit it with the matches I found in one of the drawers. I dumped three cans of baked beans, one can of corn, and two cans of tuna in the only pot Gunner seemed to own and heated it up.
I pulled out two plates, rinsing them off before putting the food on them. Not even I was that big of an asshole to only make dinner for myself.
Gunner joined me at the table where I’d put his plate with his gourmet meal.
“Thanks,” he said after taking a seat, not batting an eye at the sloppy mess in front of him.
The fire heated up the small room in no time, the crackling and hissing of the flames lulling me into a comfortable serenity I hadn’t felt in a while. If only there wasn’t the little kidnapping and possible murder issue, I could almost pretend we were on a weekend getaway.
We ate in silence, but for once it didn’t feel weird or uncomfortable. Instead, I found Gunner’s presence soothing.
I nearly fell off my chair when he cleared our plates and did the dishes. I raised my brows at him when he looked over to where I was still sitting at the table, watching him in stunned wonder.
“The cook doesn’t have to clean,” he said and turned back to the sink.
“You’re the first male to ever tell me that,” I said. My brothers wouldn’t even have said thanks for dinner.
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 and settling all his attention back on me. It was as comforting as it was exciting.
“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 hidden away in the bathroom would calm 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, you ape.
My mental pep talk didn’t help; instead, it made me wonder how I could still feel anything but resentment and anger for him. But here we were, stuck together. And I wasn’t entirely unhappy about it, my feelings locked in a battle. At the moment, I was only thirty percent unhappy and the rest confused and hopeful.
