what guy wants to feel like he’s competing with his brother?”
“You’re not competing with him.”
“No?”
She shook her head. “There was never anything between us except for me and my imagination.”
“I hope there’ll be much more than that between you and me. I have a pretty active imagination when it comes to you.”
She stopped walking and turned to him. “I’m worried you didn’t hear what I said before.” His words along with his nearness made her feel overly warm as they walked along the sidewalk. People were staring at them, not that Hunter seemed to notice.
“I heard you, and I understand you believe you’re incapable of anything that smacks of serious. But I don’t want you to have any doubts that I’m interested, and I want to get to know you better.”
“What if you don’t like what you find out about me?”
“That’s not going to happen.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“Well, obviously I can’t be totally sure, but I have a good feeling where you’re concerned.”
“What kind of good feeling?”
“The kind that tells me to trust my instincts, that it’ll be well worth my time to get to know you.”
“And these instincts are reliable or have been in the past?”
“Extremely.”
“It must be nice to have an internal compass to guide you. Where can I get one of them?”
“You can borrow mine any time you need it.”
The comment made her laugh for the third—or was it the fourth—time since they left the diner. He was charming and smooth, but not in a creepy way. No, he was smooth in the way of a man who knew himself and was comfortable in his own skin. She was finding that to be an exceptionally appealing quality.
Outside the diner, Hunter straightened his arm and put his hand on her lower back to guide her inside. He did this so naturally, like he did it all the time, or like he wanted to.
She was still processing those thoughts when they entered the diner, where Nina was seated at a table going through a stack of papers with the checkbook, a calculator and her ever-present cup of coffee on the table.
“Hey,” she said. “Thought you went home. Oh, hi, Hunter.”
“Hi, Nina.”
Nina took a closer look as if trying to determine exactly where Hunter’s hand was on her sister’s back—upper or lower. Definitely lower. Nina’s mouth fell open and her eyes widened, but she tamped down her reaction before it could venture into the realm of embarrassing.
“What’s up?” Nina asked.
“Hunter would like to talk to you about the diner.”
Nina gestured for them to join her on the other side of the booth.
He let her go in ahead of him. Megan wondered if he purposely sat close enough to her that his thigh was pressed against hers.
“What about the diner?” Nina looked from Megan to Hunter and then back to her sister, a million questions reflected in her dark brown eyes. Whereas Megan had gotten their father’s cool patrician coloring, Nina was a replica of their Italian mother, right down to the dark curls and olive-toned skin that Megan had envied all her sunburned life.
“On behalf of my grandfather, I’m inquiring about the potential purchase of the diner.”
Nina’s eyes lit up with surprise and what looked like pleasure. “Oh, that’s wonderful! Except—and don’t take this the wrong way because I love Elmer—is he really up for running a business at this point in his life?”
“Hell no,” Hunter said with a laugh. “He’s delegating that to me, which is why I’m here talking to you rather than him.”
“So how would this work exactly?”
“Our thought was to hire Megan to run the place for us, and she could hire someone to replace her.” Hunter didn’t let on that it was
his
plan, not
their
plan. His grandfather had never mentioned Megan’s name.
“Interesting,” Nina said, again letting her gaze dart between them.
To his credit, Hunter never blinked as he withstood Nina’s scrutiny. Megan knew this because she was
“You’re not competing with him.”
“No?”
She shook her head. “There was never anything between us except for me and my imagination.”
“I hope there’ll be much more than that between you and me. I have a pretty active imagination when it comes to you.”
She stopped walking and turned to him. “I’m worried you didn’t hear what I said before.” His words along with his nearness made her feel overly warm as they walked along the sidewalk. People were staring at them, not that Hunter seemed to notice.
“I heard you, and I understand you believe you’re incapable of anything that smacks of serious. But I don’t want you to have any doubts that I’m interested, and I want to get to know you better.”
“What if you don’t like what you find out about me?”
“That’s not going to happen.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“Well, obviously I can’t be totally sure, but I have a good feeling where you’re concerned.”
“What kind of good feeling?”
“The kind that tells me to trust my instincts, that it’ll be well worth my time to get to know you.”
“And these instincts are reliable or have been in the past?”
“Extremely.”
“It must be nice to have an internal compass to guide you. Where can I get one of them?”
“You can borrow mine any time you need it.”
The comment made her laugh for the third—or was it the fourth—time since they left the diner. He was charming and smooth, but not in a creepy way. No, he was smooth in the way of a man who knew himself and was comfortable in his own skin. She was finding that to be an exceptionally appealing quality.
Outside the diner, Hunter straightened his arm and put his hand on her lower back to guide her inside. He did this so naturally, like he did it all the time, or like he wanted to.
She was still processing those thoughts when they entered the diner, where Nina was seated at a table going through a stack of papers with the checkbook, a calculator and her ever-present cup of coffee on the table.
“Hey,” she said. “Thought you went home. Oh, hi, Hunter.”
“Hi, Nina.”
Nina took a closer look as if trying to determine exactly where Hunter’s hand was on her sister’s back—upper or lower. Definitely lower. Nina’s mouth fell open and her eyes widened, but she tamped down her reaction before it could venture into the realm of embarrassing.
“What’s up?” Nina asked.
“Hunter would like to talk to you about the diner.”
Nina gestured for them to join her on the other side of the booth.
He let her go in ahead of him. Megan wondered if he purposely sat close enough to her that his thigh was pressed against hers.
“What about the diner?” Nina looked from Megan to Hunter and then back to her sister, a million questions reflected in her dark brown eyes. Whereas Megan had gotten their father’s cool patrician coloring, Nina was a replica of their Italian mother, right down to the dark curls and olive-toned skin that Megan had envied all her sunburned life.
“On behalf of my grandfather, I’m inquiring about the potential purchase of the diner.”
Nina’s eyes lit up with surprise and what looked like pleasure. “Oh, that’s wonderful! Except—and don’t take this the wrong way because I love Elmer—is he really up for running a business at this point in his life?”
“Hell no,” Hunter said with a laugh. “He’s delegating that to me, which is why I’m here talking to you rather than him.”
“So how would this work exactly?”
“Our thought was to hire Megan to run the place for us, and she could hire someone to replace her.” Hunter didn’t let on that it was
his
plan, not
their
plan. His grandfather had never mentioned Megan’s name.
“Interesting,” Nina said, again letting her gaze dart between them.
To his credit, Hunter never blinked as he withstood Nina’s scrutiny. Megan knew this because she was
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