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?
While I had no intention of going anywhere tonight, it would be handy to know where he hid the 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, staring at my hand that was already 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.
“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. “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. I was used to hurting myself since I was the queen of clumsy.
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 wished 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 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.”
“Okay, then. It’s nice to meet you, Gunner. I’m Freya.” When our palms touched and his big hand curled around my small one, my body flushed and I fought the urge to get closer.
He sat down on the edge of the bed. “You come here often?”
A chuckle escaped before I could hold it back. “That’s your pickup line? Really?”
“How about this one: Want a raisin? No? Well, how about a date?”
I laughed and held my hand up. “Please, no more.”
“But I have more. This next one will win you over,” Gunner teased. “You ready?”
I nodded, and he looked at me with that expressionless face he’d perfected so well. “If you were a chicken, you’d be impeccable.”
A full belly laugh burst out of me. “Not sure we should start over. You might be making this worse. Because if I’d just met you and you’d given me those lines, I’d be walking the other way.”
Gunner grinned at me. “Come on, they weren’t that bad.”
I studied his boyish grin. “Have you ever used them on anyone to know if they work?”
