“Ever heard the expression ‘he’s more afraid of you than you are of him’?”
“He doesn’t look afraid.”
Hunter sighs, then fast as lightning, snaps to his feet, grabs my wrist, and yanks me down. My eyes squeeze closed as my trembling fingers glide through warm velvet fur. Hunter’s hand gently closes over the back of mine, and he moves them in tandem to stroke Charlie. There’s no growl of warning, no sharp bite of pain, no terror. My eyes flutter open to find Charlie baring his teeth at me, and my heart stills. I jerk back, but Hunter holds me steady.
“He’s showing his teeth. He’s not happy,” I whisper, fighting to keep my voice steady.
Hunter scratches behind Charlie’s ear, and he pushes against his hand. “He’s smiling at you.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. Dogs do not smile.”
“This one does. He learned early on it gets him more attention. They are smart and imitate human behavior.”
“It’s disconcerting.”
“You get used to it. There you go. See? Nothing but love in this wiggly body.” Without realizing it, I’ve started to stroke Charlie of my own accord. He does have the silkiest fur I have ever touched. My heart slows, and the trembling abates.
“Admit it,” Hunter says.
“Admit what?”
“You like him.”
My lips twist to the side as Charlie’s piercing green gaze meets mine. “He,” I sigh, finding none of the aggression I’d seen all those years ago, “isn’t horrible.”
Then he speaks and shatters all my peace. “Good, because I have to go out for a while. Gives you both some time to get acquainted. After all, you are sleeping in his bed. Seems fair he should get cuddles as payment.”
Well, fuck.
Chapter Seventeen
Hunter
Lies go great with hot pizza.
Watching the steadfast, unshakeable force of Eleanor Austin tremble in the face of my spaniel is at odds with everything I know about her. She barely blinks when being hunted by known sex traffickers, but the smiling face of my loyal furry friend causes her well-constructed facade to crumble.
Hopefully, some alone time will help to overcome her fear. There’s nothing quite like exposure therapy for fast learning. Charlie wears even the coldest of hearts down with his endless optimism and affection.
I push into the local grocery store and grab a basket to collect some essentials to tide us over. I don’t want to leave Eleanor alone for too long, in case she contemplates running. I tap my jeans pocket, feeling the reassuring weight of her car keys in there. Just in case she tries it. I pause at the fresh produce, realizing I know nothing of her preferences. Pizza is a safe option, right? The ones stocked here are actually made by thelocal Italian restaurant. A little pricey, but worth it. I grab two types; a simple pepperoni and a parma ham, along with a salad for something healthy and a bottle of red wine.
My mouth draws into a grimace as I realize I constructed what could be misconstrued as a cozy date night without trying. Eleanor is a complex woman, but she’s no fool. Wooing her with wine and mouth-watering Italian food will not cut it. In fact, I suspect it will drive her even further away. I swap the wine for a bottle of sparkling water and quickly pay.
Stepping out onto the leafy sidewalk, I inhale the sweet scent of fresh fruit. Plums are the most common tree in town, but interspersed are pomegranate and peach. It’s an unwritten rule that the residents of Victoria Bay may pick and use the fruit, but never sell any products made outside of the town. The local bakery, run by Cheryl, the prez’s wife, is the only exception, and no one dares dispute her.
Tourist trade is bouncing as folks rush to soak in the town that seems, in many ways, stuck in the past. One where people still leave their doors unlocked at night. The street is a hive of activity as the sun reaches its peak. Busy, but never crowded, the town has become a sought-after haven with its high achieving schools, non-existent crime, and sense of community. But you can’t simply move into Victoria Bay, you have to be vetted by the MC, and without family ties, your chances of settling in our lovely town are slim to none.
We own the town, the people, and the land. It means townsfolk are clear of debt, therefore less susceptible to becoming a victim of blackmail or moving against us. It’s not without cost, though. Not financial, but personal. William demands unwavering loyalty. If he says jump, he expects those who live here to respond with how high, and they do.
I cross the street, heading for the one place I need to stop by, since Rose already laid eyes on Eleanor, therefore alerting the town to her presence.
Pushing open the glass door, I’m met with the familiar comforting smell of freshly baked bread sweetened by the undercurrent of peach pie. That’s perfect for dessert. I’d rather Eleanor was on the menu, but she seems immune to my charms. So far.
Cheryl’s head pops out from the open doorway leading to the kitchens, a wide smile gracing her face. Time has been good to the woman standing tall at the side of the powerful man she loves. She’s beautiful, aging with grace and still holds an easy laugh for those she loves. Life hasn’t been without hardship for Cheryl; her childhood, from what I understand, was fraught with violence, control, and pain. Perhaps that’s why the MC princess gets away with murder.
She rounds the long glass counter housing the remnants of today’s homemade goods. It’s only noon, and she’s almost sold out. You have to be quick, and early, to get the full choice.
She opens her arms and wraps me in a hug full of warmth and sunshine. “Rose said you were back early,” she says as she releases me.
