Baby Be Mine (Spinsters & Casanovas Series Book 1) (24 page)

“Fern, Fern…” Fern didn’t know how to
respond. This man was beyond a challenge for her. He was… was…

“And stop speaking in third person. It’s not
proper English,” Anton said.

“Fern… Fern… Fern can speak whatever way she
likes.” Fern lifted her nose high in the air to show she was pissed
off at Anton’s behavior toward her.

Fern was born in Thailand, despite her
parents both being Americans. So growing up in the Thai culture,
she spoke both Thai and English, intermingling the two languages
together, and more often than not, tended to slip her tongue by
speaking in third person when referring to herself, as that’s what
Thai people tend to speak when referring to oneself. When she spoke
to Hunter in her bilingual language, he had no problem
understanding her. So why was Hunter’s cousin making so much fuss
over her speech?

“This is how Fern speaks.” She continued to
challenge him. “So if you don’t like it, don’t talk to Fern.”

“Good, because I don’t find talking to you
amusing either. So if you’re done with your apology, just leave it
at the doorstep and go,” Anton instructed, then went back to his
computer, typing away furiously, his hands shaking at this sudden
confrontation.

Good God, he just had his first verbal fight
with a female and it sure felt good.

“Junior Silverton,” Fern shrieked, but Anton
didn’t give heed to her outburst as his eyes continued to clue to
the screen.

“Ugggggh,” Fern said, fuming by the time she
left Anton’s office. “Fern swears she will make that Junior
Silverton look at her. In fact, even beg for her love. Just wait
and see.”

CHAPTER 20

“
Hunter, my darling Hunter,” that musical
voice sang sweetly to him. “Come to me, Hunter. I’m waiting for
you. I’m waiting for you to see me, to see only me. Come to me,
Hunter. I’m waiting for you.”

It was his mysterious goddess. She was
calling out to him again with her sweet, seductive voice that never
failed to lure him in, like a wasp to nectar.

He was in the woods, running up to catch
her. All around him, the scent of pine trees and orange blossoms
intoxicated his nose. The sky was so blue and the wind blew a nice
gentle breeze, cooling his already drenched skin.

He could see her in the near distance, her
long black hair tossing behind her, those long strains cascading in
the wind. He reached his hands out, his fingers only millimeters
away from the silk of her white scarf that floated behind her, when
she turned around the bend and skipped away. She hid behind a tree,
her face partially hidden from his view, trying to catch a glimpse
of him as he was running to get to her. A single giggle escaped her
lips, and then she ran off again before disappearing deeper into
the thick of the woods.

“
You’re too slow, Hunter.” He heard her
voice echoing in the scenic forest. “Run faster. Find me,
Hunter.”

He tried to run as fast as possible to catch
up to her while she skipped at her own slow, melodic pace, but no
matter how fast he sprinted, he was never able to catch up.

He wanted her; he wanted to catch her. He
wanted to be with her. His heart was telling him he needed to catch
up to her, so it thumped faster to keep pace with the speed of his
feet. Then he came to a clearing, a beautiful meadow dotted with a
few trees and lots of lush flowers.

There she was, sitting on a swing made of
vines, with her back to him. He walked silently towards her and
crouched down. Wrapping his arms around the small of her waist, he
nestled his head in her soft scented hair, inhaling the orange
blossom and pine that was driving his desire.

“
Hunter, my darling Hunter,” his goddess
said. “You’ve found me.”

“
Yes, my mysterious goddess. I’ve finally
found you,” he replied.

His mysterious goddess, she was so beautiful
and so sweet that his hand shook when he parted her hair to reveal
her swanlike neck. Then he kissed her there, gentle, small kisses
along the nape of her neck, until she offered him a soft moan.

He couldn’t control his desire for her
anymore. He wanted to tell her, needed to tell her of this feeling
hiding inside his heart. So he placed his hand underneath her chin
and slowly turned her around, only to come face to face with—

“
Clarice?”

* * *

“Shit!” Hunter cursed, jolting wide awake,
his pores covered in perspiration and his heart beating like
African drums. “Not again.”

It was that dream again. Since he’d arrived
back from Queenstown, he had been continuously plagued with that
dream of chasing his mysterious goddess, her calling out to him to
find her. Then when he finally found her, it was only to find out
his mysterious goddess had somehow transformed into Clarice, the
avocado.

It was always the same every time he woke
up. That sweaty feeling that made him feel horrible, those bed
sheets drenched in his perspiration, and the feeling of tiredness
and exhaustion, like he’d been running a marathon in his sleep.

In his dreams, there were many variations of
his goddess, from her wearing a white dress to a red dress, with
her having her long hair cascading down to her waist or her hair
styled in a chignon. Even the scenery changed according to her
dress, from her being in the woods to her on the beach and in the
cities. But the concept nonetheless remained the same; he would
continuously chase after her.

Hunter rubbed his sleepy red eyes and two
weeks of stubble. Horrible. That was the word he would use to
describe himself. Horrible and awful. He felt like a caveman. The
dream was definitely wearing him down. He had to do something about
it. And to top it off, he hadn’t been home for over two weeks. His
dad and Anton had been calling him constantly to visit their estate
in the North Shore, but he preferred to stay hidden in his
townhouse in Central Auckland.

The dream wasn’t the only thing that was to
blame, though, although it did play a part in his facial appearance
and lack of energy, but the other reason would be Caroline. She had
called him constantly since they left Queenstown, and here he
thought she was a quiet, subtle girl. She was like a stalker,
tailing him at every turn. Thank God she didn’t know where he
lived; otherwise, this house would be infested with her scent
again.

God, that perfume,
Hunter thought. He
almost gagged every time she came near. It was so powerful that it
literally bashed all his little olfactory receptors to death. His
poor receptors would require days, or even weeks, to recover.
Although, he must admit if he could smell that perfume from twenty
meters away, he could always make his escape just in time before
she reach him.

He shook his head and scuffled his hair
again. It was getting longer. Maybe he needed to cut it. He took
the hair tie out of the top drawer and tied it up in a ponytail
atop his head, then got out of bed, remembering that today he could
not avoid going into the hotel, since Anton wanted to see him for
some sort of meeting.

He’d been in the other day when his best
friend Fern decided to surprise him with the news that she was
pregnant with his baby. He knew that could never happen because
he’d never had any intimate relationship with her, but it sure
affected his dad and Winton. But he guessed the person who
immediately took a strong disliking to Fern would be his
traditional, old-fashioned cousin Anton. He wondered what Anton
would say if he knew Fern was at their hotel for the duration of
her stay, which was a good two months.

After feeling somewhat refreshed by that
cold morning shower, Hunter was all ready to face the day. Before
he left, he picked up his cell phone, then flicked it open and
stared at his wallpaper.

“Avocado, what are you doing to me?” he
asked, then closed it again and went to his red Ferrari and drove
to Silverton Hotel. Except he didn’t get as far as his garage when
the head of his nosey neighbor, Macy Beanstalk, came out of her
house, intercepting his path.

“Why, good morning, Hunter darling,” Macy
greeted her neighbor. “A fine day is it? Would you like a muffin?”
She came over to lean on the fence that separated their territory
and offered him some of her baked goods. If that fence didn’t
exist, Hunter was sure she’d be on his front doorstep by now.

“No thanks, Macy.” He smiled. “Have to
hurry. Got to meet Anton over at the hotel.”

“Oh, sweet and sensible Anton. He is such a
hard worker, isn’t he?”

“Yes, he is.” Hunter was glad everyone
looked up to Anton.

“And you? The captivating Casanova? Have you
caught any new female species yet with those lasso looks of
yours?”

My business,
Hunter wanted to tell
her. But he couldn’t, so instead, he just smiled and said, “None.”
Then he dashed off before she could question him more about his
life or offer him her homemade muffins again. If Macy were to
continue to eat any more muffins, Hunter was sure she’d needed to
change her last name from Beanstalk to Muffins.

Safe now that he was in his car, Hunter
drove for a bit when he suddenly slammed on the brake and stopped,
not because he ran through a red light or anything. It was just… it
was… God help him, was he fantasizing again? Did he dream about her
so many times that she just ended up appearing in front of his face
now?
God… it-it’s that avocado.
And what the hell was she
doing caressing her lips like that on the sidewalk like she was in
some sort of trance?
Oh shit!
The image of that kiss with
Clarice came back into his mind again and his heart began sprinting
wildly.

“My goddess, where are you? Stop my thinking
about this avocado. I need to see you again.” Hunter slumped his
head on the steering wheel as if begging his goddess to appear
before him. After some time of calming his heart rate, he glanced
back up and—

“Shit! She’s still there. The avocado,” he
growled. There was no use getting away from her.

Hunter looked heavenward, asking why must he
see her now when he was still in his confused state.

Disgusted at his own reaction to this woman
who he had clearly vowed he would never fall for, Hunter slammed
his foot on the accelerator and, without looking at her still in
her delirious state, tenderly touching those lips, he zoomed past
her.

A few more minutes of driving had him
stopping again. He parked in front of a park and sat looking at the
children playing with their parents, their voices echoing with
laugher, seeing but not seeing, hearing but not hearing because he
was lost in his own world. For once in his life, he hadn’t a damn
clue as what to do next.

Shit, what was wrong with him? He cursed
himself. And what the hell was wrong with her? What the hell was
she doing in his neighborhood anyway? He asked himself these
questions again and again, but he could find no answers. There was
only one way to find out. And without even realizing what he was
doing, he ignited the engine again, pulled his gear into reverse,
and did a U-turn.

CHAPTER 21

Worrying isn’t going to do you any
good,
Clarice told herself. And neither was chewing her lips,
because at the end of the day, they would just be swollen and ugly.
But she just couldn’t help herself. What if she didn’t conceive? It
was only one time.

Should she ask to sleep with him again? She
knew all the symptoms of pregnancy and she hadn’t experienced any
yet. Then again, it hadn’t been over two weeks yet. She was
scheduled to meet up with Anton today to discuss the presentation
she was going to give to his elderly guests. She wondered if he
would talk to her about that night, or even if he could remember at
all.

A sudden cough from her car drew her
attention away from her mulling thoughts.

“What’s wrong, Red?” she asked. In reply,
her car just continued to spatter and cough.

Was it playing up?
Oh, please, don’t play
up now.
Not when she was already halfway to Silverton
Hotel.

“No, no, not now, Red. Why must you get sick
now?” Thank heavens it wasn’t a busy road and she was able to park
on the curbside just before it released a final hacking cough.
Sadly, Red died a sudden death, smoke drifting from its bonnet.

“I just took you for your six-month checkup.
They said you were fine, and now you do this to me? Just when I
need to meet Anton too,” she grumbled and stepped out of the
car.

She lifted the hood and more smoke came
billowing out. She stood back before it could make its way into her
lungs. Once it dissipated, she went back to look at the engine. She
saw all the wires and containers, but having no knowledge of cars,
she just couldn’t diagnose the problem.

“What am I supposed to do with you? Replace
you?” she asked in frustration. But inside, she knew she could
never replace her beloved Corolla, or Red, as she so lovingly named
it.

She had bought Red during her final year of
dentistry, after working so many different jobs, as a kind of
reward for finishing her degree. Now, almost eight years had
passed, and Red was still with her, through thick and thin, through
sadness and happiness. She had money now, which could easily afford
her a brand new car if she so wished it, but it was the sentimental
relationship she had with Red that had stopped her. Red meant a lot
to her. But looking at its condition now, with its brand new
door—some unknown person had crashed into her a few months back—and
its sickness, she wondered just how much longer her Red would
last.

Sighing with resignation, she checked her
whereabouts with her cell phone GPS and found it was an hour walk
to Silverton Hotel. Deciding a car would be better, she decided a
taxi should pick her up, but first she rang her car insurance
company to have Red picked up. Once all that was done, she phoned
the taxi company.