Heart of the Hunter (2 page)

Read Heart of the Hunter Online

Authors: Chance Carter

Tags: #Fiction, #bad boy, #Romance, #Contemporary, #Literary, #Suspense, #Womens

Chapter 2

Kelly

A
T LEAST THE SUN WAS SHINING.
If there’s one thing you can count on in the town of Stone Peak, Montana, it’s the beauty of nature. The view over the mountain range, the miles and miles of pine trees in the valley, the way the clouds gather around the snowy peaks, it’s enough to take a girl’s breath away. It’s enough to make you feel safe and secure in the world. It’s enough to give you a little hope.

When I was a little girl, I thought I wanted to get out of this place. I thought I was headed for the big city. I never understood the people in the town who said they’d stay there their whole lives. The same faces, the same stories, each day the exact copy of the one before. I saw the sameness of it all as a way of rocking yourself to sleep, singing you a sweet, carefree lullaby until, before you knew it, you’d slept away the best years of your life.

I didn’t want to wake up some cold morning and discover that I was just another familiar face, living out my days just like the rest of them. I thought I was headed for bigger things. I wanted to see the world. I wanted to be someone. I wanted to find my destiny.

Destiny.

Life has a way of getting in the way of silly things like that. I know better now. I’m not foolish enough to think I have some great destiny in the world. I’m just an ordinary girl, scraping by as best she can, and I do it on my terms. I live the life I created, the life I built for myself through my own sweat and hard work, and for that, I will always be grateful.

“Morning, Kelly,” a voice called as I walked absently along the sidewalk toward the diner, chewing my healthy breakfast Snickers bar.

I looked up. It was Grace, the one person in my life I knew I could always count on.

“Morning, Grace.”

“Did you remember to pick up the ice from Harry’s?”

“Oh, shoot,” I said, slapping my forehead. I’d been so preoccupied that morning it had totally slipped my mind.

Grace shook her head. “Well, don’t worry about it. I know you’re doing your best with what the Good Lord gave you.”

I grinned at her. She was always teasing me.

“And why are you eating that crap so early in the morning? You know I like to cook you breakfast. Candy bars are going to be the death of you.”

“Yes, ma’am. Sorry, my mind was off wandering.”

“Oh, hush. It wasn’t Elle and Forrester you were thinking about, was it?”

I shrugged. “Do you think something like that will ever happen to me, Grace?”

“What? Some handsome, rich guy with a mansion in California rides into town and sweeps you off your feet?”

“Something like that,” I said, realizing how ridiculous it sounded.

Grace smiled. “You never know, kid. It happened to Elle.”

“It happened to Elle,” I repeated to myself.

She’d called me the day before, telling me how great things were, inviting me up to the vineyard. I sighed.

“You really do have your head in the clouds today,” Grace said. “But now, let’s get your head on serving some people breakfast, since that’s what I’m paying you the big bucks for.”

I love Grace. She’d been like a mother to me since I lost my folks when I was seventeen. She took me in, gave me a roof and three square meals every day. Eventually, she gave me this job waiting tables when I finished high school.

If it wasn’t for her, I wouldn’t have ever made it this far. I owed her everything.

“I will, Grace. What’s the special going to be today?”

“I was thinking eggs. Sound good to you, baby?” she asked with a grin.

“Sounds great,” I said. “Same special as every other day.”

This was our routine and had been for the last six years of my life. We used to make the walk to work together every morning when I lived with her, but that changed when I got with Phil, the sheriff’s son, and we moved into our own apartment. I didn’t see as much of Grace during that period. She was never far away, but living with Phil, I felt as if she was a million miles away.

Phil wasn’t ever one for either of us leaving the house much, except for work, and Grace was never his biggest fan. He wasn’t a bad man by any means, just not much of one. I really did care for him for a time, but I can’t say my heart was broken when he skipped town to be with some other girl. It was more of a surprise to me than anything else, as I didn’t think he had the courage to do something that bold. Grace said it was a coward’s move and that there shouldn’t be any room in my life for cowards. I knew she was right, except when I get lonely and think about what it would be like to have a man, any man, even a man as cowardly as Phil, in my bed at night.

Anyway, I survived that break up. I kept strong and it turned out fine. I settled into a halfway decent little house close to work and my life returned to normal in every other way. The sun kept shining. The mountains looked as beautiful as ever, more beautiful in fact. Phil ended up returning to town a year after he left, but I didn’t succumb to my loneliness and get back with him. I’d realized that he wasn’t the man for me. I deserved better. I didn’t deserve to be dumped for some other girl. I deserved a man who chose me, and only me, and stood by that decision every day of his life.

Phil still gives me some trouble in Harry’s bar from time to time, he tries to hit on me, or does something stupid to get a laugh out of his friends, but it’s nothing I can’t handle. For the most part, I ignore him. When he gets really drunk, he says he wants me back. He’d never do anything about it though. And I guess that’s the reason I don’t go back. If he’s not man enough to step up to the plate and take what he wants, then he’s not man enough to have me.

I was polishing cutlery when the bell over the door chimed for the day’s first customer. Like yesterday and tomorrow, it was Dennis.

“Morning, ladies. How is everyone’s health today?”

“Oh, good morning, Dennis,” Grace called out from the grill. “We’re still ticking here. You going to surprise us today, or just stick with the usual eggs and bacon?”

“Nobody burns it like you, Grace. I’d be a fool to get anything else.”

“Cup of coffee, Denny, or you had your fill at the shop?” I asked.

“Never enough, babe. The new guy drinks it as much as me, so I have to rush my way through to get some before it’s all gone. I’m not used to fighting for it, and he’s got more than a few inches on me. Pick your battles, right?”

I didn’t exactly love it when he called me babe, but I let it go because he was a good man. He didn’t mean anything by it. And he was the fairest mechanic in town. He’d never charged me for the work he did on my beat up excuse for a car after Phil left, and I haven’t charged him for a coffee since. Never the arrangement, I just couldn’t think of a better way to return the favor. I don’t think Grace knew, but if she did, she wouldn’t care. Dennis was in every morning for breakfast and it was a pleasant way for everyone’s day to start.

“How is your new helping hand? You’re not working him too hard, I hope?” Grace called, as she fought the smoke billowing from Dennis’s burning bacon.

“Well, he’s a bit of an acquired taste, that kid,” Dennis chuckled. “One hell of a mechanic, though. Knows his way around a vehicle and doesn’t need to be told twice how to do something, if at all. Took a little while, but he’s warming up. Anyway, he’s just finishing a cigarette outside. You can judge for yourself when he comes in. And we all know how you ladies like to judge.”

“Hush,” Grace said to him as she passed me the plate of burned bacon.

Before I even turned around, I felt a presence walk through the door. It was as if the room had been filled, but I couldn’t see what with. As I set Dennis’s plate in front of him, two massive, grease streaked hands gripped the counter and slid the body attached to them onto the stool behind it. I could see his forearms ripple underneath the tattoos as he leaned in. He spoke to Dennis, but he looked at me. I didn’t look back.

“Goddamn, Denny, you didn’t tell me this town had girls that looked like this. I would’ve been in here for breakfast every day. What’s your name, sweetheart?”

I was almost afraid to look up to see who, or what, was sitting in front of me. Not because of the catcalling. Being a waitress anywhere, let alone a small town, gives you some pretty thick skin, not much phases me, but because I could already tell that this guy was different. I felt something, I don’t know why, but I knew he had a darkness and a power behind him that I had never come across in my life.

“I thought waitresses were supposed to be all chatty and shit? Can I at least grab a coffee off you, darling? Unless you got a beer you want to throw my way. That’d be all right, hey, Denny? A little breakfast of champions?” He patted Dennis on the back and grabbed his shoulder.

While this sounded like the usual jackass with an ego and a drinking problem that I was used to shrugging off, there was something behind his words that felt forced. It was almost as if he was playing a role. Regardless, I learned long ago not to give this behavior any more time or attention than it deserved. Just keep your head down and do your job, that’s what I told myself, and they take the hint eventually. This guy would too, if I kept my cool. I kept my eyes focused elsewhere and calmly walked to the coffee maker and poured him a cup. I could feel his eyes burning into the back of me, and I tried to shake the feeling it gave me.

I poured the coffee with my back to the counter, and whispered, just to myself, “this is all you’re getting off me, so just keep talking your big talk.”

I realized I was saying it to convince myself.

Dennis cleared his throat. “We do our drinking off the clock, Hunter, but I’ll be happy to put that coffee on my tab. You had a hell of a first week, boy. And ladies, don’t let this guy get to you. Like I said, he’s an
acquired taste
. And as for you, boy, let go of my shoulder. What are we using vice grips for when you’ve got those things?”

“Ah, Denny I’m only trying to get a rise out of the girls here. My apologies, sweetheart, if I offended your delicate self.”

“My name’s Kelly, not sweetheart. Here’s your coffee,” I said firmly, as I placed the coffee down, trying not to give this guy anything else to work with.

But the harder I fought, the more I felt it. That power he had over me, the feeling he gave me in the pit of my stomach, just by his mere presence. What was happening? Why was I letting him get under my skin? I hadn’t even allowed myself to look at his face yet. I slowly let my eyes rise from the cup of coffee on the counter, to see his hard chest and broad shoulders, hugged by a white tank top stained from a morning’s work. The shirt wrapped the body so tightly I could see every angle and ridge underneath, and I found myself wishing I could run my fingers over them and take them in with my touch. I snapped back to reality quickly enough to gather myself and keep my feet on the ground.

Get a hold of yourself, Kelly. What are you, fourteen?

Almost as if he sensed my new found grip on myself, the man stood up. It was as if he wanted to show me just how much his body dwarfed mine. As if he was reminding me that he could knock me off balance at any time. My eyes shot back to the countertop and it was all I could do to keep them there and not look up.

And then, a rippling, tattooed arm reached out to shake my hand. I wanted to back away from it. I could smell the mix of sweat, cigarettes, and oil that poured out of him and washed over me. I felt my knees start to shake and my stomach flutter. What was this? Was I getting sick?

“I’m only clowning you, Kelly. You’re wound pretty tight, hey?”

My glance rose further and I finally saw the man standing in front of me in all his glory. His overalls slung down covering his lower half. His stained tank top clung to abs and a chest that didn’t have one angle out of place. Intricate tattoos covered every inch of skin I could see on his arms. I could feel the hairs on the back of my neck stand up and something inside me clenched. When I took his hand, it was as if he passed some sort of electric current from his body into mine. It shot through my arms and into my entire body. My head felt light and I only hoped I wasn’t blushing.

As my eyes rose again, I saw his strong jaw and the thin layer of rough hair that covered it. I knew I had to meet his eyes with mine, but part of me felt so weakened by his touch that I didn’t know if I could do it. I felt powerless. When I finally lifted my gaze, everything I was feeling seemed to explode, bringing a rush of heat that swept over my whole body. Every sense I had fired at the same time and I was motionless. His eyes were bluer than anything I had ever seen and had an intensity behind them that made my thighs quiver in anticipation. Of what, I didn’t know, but I wanted it.

As his rough hand swallowed mine, he stared into me as if he knew every flurry of excitement, every tingle of nervousness, that was passing through me. It was as if he could sense the strange dance of fear and anticipation that was building up inside me, beyond my control. I didn’t care. I’d spent too long being in control of myself. I’d spent too long being the perfect girl for everyone else. This was something different, something strange and new, and I didn’t want it to end. Still holding my hand inside his, his gaze sending a shockwave through me, he spoke as if I was the only person in the room. No, the only person in the whole world.

“My apologies, honey. I’m Hunter.”

Chapter 3

Hunter

T
HE TROUBLE WITH LAYING LOW
is that you have to blend in like you’re just any other clown in whatever nothing town you’re in. Maybe that’s just how some people are and that’s why it looks so easy, but it’s not me. I don’t look for attention, I just get it. I tried to make small talk with this chick while Denny threw back his breakfast and now somehow I was stuck offering her my hand and saying I’m sorry because she can’t take a joke. Like I’m some kind of chump. Thing is, I have to be some kind of chump if I have any chance of fitting in here, or anywhere, but it is fucking eating me. Broads. So damn sensitive. Especially the pretty ones.

When she finally looked up and took my hand, I realized she wasn’t just pretty, she was fucking beautiful. Her hair fell across her face as she raised her head and when she brushed it aside, her puppy dog eyes hit mine like headlights on a highway. I was drawn in, even though I knew I should look away. They were practically begging me to fuck her, right there. When she smiled back at me, I could feel my cock start to swell in my pants and it was all I could do not to picture her soft, supple lips wrapped around it.

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