Her gaze drifts past me to my overnight bag. “Six o’clock, huh?”
I nod, looking down.
Attempting to inject a note of cheer into her tone, she says, “Well, I can give you a ride, if you want.”
My gaze jumps to hers. “Really?”
She nods, offering a tiny smile. “Yeah, why not? I’m gonna head over to Ray’s after, help him decide what he should bring and what he should toss when he starts packing. It’s practically on the way.”
“That would be great. Thanks.”
Flashing me a smile, she says, “No problem. Don’t forget that promise, though. I want lots of pictures. Even kissy ones.”
I crack a smile. “I am not going to send you kissy pictures.”
Her smile widens, then disappears. “I mean it, though, okay? I’m gonna give Hunter a chance. A real one. I promise. Middle school forgotten—he gets a clean slate as of today.”
I stop what I’m doing and stare at her. “Really?”
She nods. “Really. I’m not guaranteeing anything,” she adds, raising her eyebrows. “He still has to make a good impression and not impregnate my daughter for 10 more years if he wants me to like him, but… I’ll be open-minded.”
“That’s all I’m asking for.” A smile claims my lips. Abandoning my packing, I cross the room and throw my arms around her. “Thanks, Mom.”
She wraps her arms around me and squeezes me back. “I love you, kid.”
“I love you, too.”
Chapter Forty Six
Riley
Mom drops me off at Hunter’s house. He told me just to let myself in when I got here, but even knowing he has the place to himself, I feel weird doing it.
“Hello,” I call out as I step inside the enormous entryway.
I ease the door shut behind me and wander past the foyer into the living room.
“In the kitchen,” Hunter calls back.
“Your house needs some kind of intercom system,” I mutter back, even though I know he can’t hear me. I make my way toward the sound of his voice, and stop when I approach a massive kitchen with a sprawling island.
A myriad of ingredients and cookware is spread across the marble surface. It looks like marble, anyway. Our counters are the cheap laminate kind from Home Depot, but whatever Hunter’s are made of, they’re much fancier.
Hunter stands in front of the stove with his back to me. He looks so sexy standing there, cooking me dinner, I can’t resist dropping my bags and going over to him.
“Mm, it smells incredible in here,” I say, wrapping my arms around him from behind.
Hunter looks back at me over his shoulder and flashes me a smile. His hands are full cooking, so he doesn’t hug me back. “Glad you think so. Dinner’s about done. You can take a seat and wait while I finish up.”
I unlock my arms around him. “You don’t want help?”
He shakes his head. “I’ve got it under control.”
I walk back over to where I dropped my bag and take a seat at the end of the island. “I feel like I should help.”
“You can help me make dinner tomorrow,” he says. “Tonight is simple.”
Since his back is to me, I grab my purse and draw out my cell phone, then I take a quick picture of him making us dinner to send Mom. I attach it to a message and type, “Off to a very good start.”
“Do you know anything about wine?” Hunter asks.
“I know I’m too young to drink it in this country,” I toss back.
He looks at me over his shoulder. “You’re not serious.”
I crack a smile. “I’ll have a glass with dinner, if that’s what you were thinking.”
He shakes his head, turning his attention back to the stove. “Such a goody goody. I was gonna send you down to the cellar to pick out a red, but I think I’ll handle that myself.”
“Probably a good idea,” I agree.
“Are you cool with room temperature, or do you want it chilled?”
I sigh dramatically. “I shouldn’t have come over this weekend. Now you’re going to know how unsophisticated I am.”
“Chilled it is,” he says, lightly amused.
Hunter finishes up cooking and as he does, it becomes clear he really knows what he’s doing. He lets the meat rest while he preps the salad, then he slices the meat at a diagonal and plates it like a pro. My mouth waters at the sight and the smell as I hover over him and watch.
“Are you sure I can’t do anything?”
“You can put our plates on the table while I go grab the wine,” he tells me.
While he goes to the wine cellar, I take the plates and the wine glasses over to the table. He already has two glasses of water and a place setting for each of us, so I know where to put them.
When he comes back, he has a chilled bottle of wine, so they must keep chilled and room temperature stuff in the cellar. I want to tease him about having a wine cellar, but right when I’m about to rib him, he leans down and kisses me. His lingering kiss steals the teasing words right from my lips.
My eyes are closed and I sigh when he pulls back.
I open my eyes and look over at him as he takes a seat in his chair. “This dinner looks and smells amazing, but I have to tell you, I would’ve been happy having you for dinner.”
Hunter smirks. “You’re having me for dessert.”
“Oh, am I?” I tease, grabbing a fork and knife so I can cut into the steak on my plate.
“Yep,” he says, before taking a drink of his wine.
“I’m loving the menu at this place,” I joke as I spear a piece of meat on my fork and prepare to take a bite. “I’d give it a five star rating, but I’m feeling a bit selfish; I don’t want anyone else to find out about it.”
“Don’t worry, it’s very exclusive,” he assures me before taking a bite.
I pop a bite of steak into my mouth, too. It smells good, so I didn’t expect it would be bad, but when the flavorful meat practically melts in my mouth, my taste buds explode.
“Oh my God,” I murmur, spearing another bite so I can make sure I’m not crazy.
Hunter looks up. “What?”
I take another bite, and sag in my seat. Once I’m done chewing, I tell him, “This is amazing.”
The flicker of concern falls off his face and he smiles. “Glad you like it.”
“It’s so good.” I grab my wine glass and take a sip. I know nothing about wine, but this one tastes pretty good with the flavor of steak still in my mouth. “Remember how we talked about you being good at too many things? We can add cooking to that list.”
“It’s a skill I picked up while I was living in Italy,” he tells me.
I point my fork at him. “I knew it. Who lives in Italy and doesn’t learn how to cook?”
“Well, I’m sure some people manage, but I wasn’t one of them.” He takes another sip of his wine. “When I first got there, it was pretty uncomfortable. I mean, I had nice accommodations and everything. My dad had this beautiful estate he tucked me away at, but he was afraid to move me into the family house. His wife had agreed to let him bring me over so I didn’t end up in the system and potentially cause further embarrassment, but she wasn’t exactly excited about the constant reminder of his infidelity, either.”