Page 47 of Her Passionate Hero

Her grandmother turned to the counter and poured batter into the waffle iron.

“Should I get the bacon out of the fridge?” Hunter asked her.

“After you wash your hands,” her grandmother replied.

Aliana watched as they cooked breakfast like a well-oiled machine. Her world was changing before her very eyes. Hunter just made himself at home, and she was allowing herself to like it. This had to stop. Twenty-four hours. It’s only been twenty-four hours.

She got up and cleared off the table and set it. When she went to get the butter out of the fridge, Hunter was slipping by to get the cheese for the eggs. He gave her a lazy smile, making her tummy flip over. Must be the concussion, she assured herself.

They all sat down to breakfast, her grandmother sat across from her, which left her sitting next to Hunter. He watched what she put on her plate. Then added two pieces of bacon.

“I can’t eat all of that.”

“Yes, you can,” he said.

“You’re too slim,” her grandmother chimed in.

“I am not. I’m in the weight range for my height.”

“Bet you’re on the low side,” he said softly.

She ignored him. He was right, but she maintained her weight now. She no longer let it fall to an unhealthy level. She took a bite of her jam smothered waffle, flavor bursting in her mouth. “This is to die for. Thank you.”

“I know your favorites, Láska.”

“What does Láska mean?” Hunter asked.

“It means love,” her grandmother answered. “I used to call my Terez that all the time, remember, Honey?” she asked Aliana. She nodded. Her grandfather had been bigger than life. She remembered him working at the forge in the foundry. All that molten metal fascinated her as a little girl.

When breakfast was over, Hunter said he needed to go back out to his car. “People need to see me, and I need to see what’s going on. Before I go, Aliana, can you come out to the parlor with me? I want to ask you a couple of questions about Mateo.”

She blanched. The cat was out of the bag. Babička would love that saying, she thought. But she would probably end up saying the dog was out of the bag. Since he knew who Mateo was, he was going to find the connection to Nicolas soon enough, wouldn’t he? She bit her lip, then hissed. She needed to stop doing that, it was a bad habit even when she wasn’t injured.

She got up and they went and sat down on the couch in the parlor.

“Ernie told me you needed stitches. Was it Mateo, who cut you?”

Ping. Ping. Ping. Her buttons hit the cement.

Strong hands cradled hers. Warmed them.

“Alia, stay with me. You’re safe. Tell me what happened.”

She shook her head. She’d tell him about Mateo, but she didn’t want to relive her attack. Her braid whipped around and hit her face. He tugged it away and brushed it back over her shoulder.

“You can tell me anything. Don’t you remember? You told me what those girls did to you in the bathroom. I took care of it. Remember?”

“I hated telling you. It was so hard,” she whispered hoarsely.

“Ah, mi Cielieto, my heart was breaking. I looked all over for you. When I found you huddled up under the bleachers, there was no way I was letting you get away with not telling me.”

She remembered that. He was looking at her the same way now, wanting to know about Mateo.

“Alia, please stop crying.”

“Go away, Hunter.” She grabbed her knees tighter, making sure her legs were covered by her skirt. It was the only practical thought she’d had since Lupita, Heather, and Theresa slammed open her bathroom stall.

“What happened? What’s wrong?”