There were things he needed to tell her, and he selfishly wanted her to be in his home when he broke the news. It would give him a leg up.
After a quick shower, Hunter put his clothes back on from the day before and headed down the stairs. He found Layla sitting on the gaudy floral couch in Marge’s living room, legs curled under her, one of Marge’s photo albums in her lap. As with the rest of the house, the living room was out of style, from the wallpaper to the furniture. However, Marge had taken good care of everything. Nothing was in disrepair or overly worn. This house was well loved.
Layla didn’t seem to notice him until he sat next to her. When she lifted her gaze, her eyes were wide. “Aunt Marge took a lot of pictures. I feel like I can practically walk through the steps of her life.”
“Yeah, she often had a camera with her. Maybe she wanted to leave you girls something.”
“That’s so sad,” Layla murmured before she set a finger on the page in front of her. “My great-grandmother sent Marge pictures of us all the way up until she died. Look.”
He tipped his head down to find a picture of Layla and Elena playing in the sprinklers. They were about six years old. He smiled as he leaned in closer. “You were adorable.”
“I was gangly and awkward, and I knew that at all times because I lived with a 3D mirror image of myself,” she joked.
“That must be so weird. Staring at someone who looks just like you all the time.”
“Very.”
“It’s fascinating how much you two look alike even though you’ve been living apart. Your hair isn’t even cut differently.”
She nodded. “If you could have seen my grandmother even after their separation of fifty years, you wouldn’t have been able to tell them apart. Eerie. But as for Elena and me, we don’t have a lot of easy hair options without a lot of work. We learned what works for our hair at a young age. If we cut ours too short, it poofs out.”
He reached out and picked up a lock of the golden curls, which were so pale they were almost white. “I love it.”
“You should see how it looks when I leave the hairdresser. For auditions I usually straighten it and get it styled. The wild loose curls don’t earn me any favors when looking for a job.”
“I don’t see why not. It’s natural. Carefree. How is that not a thing people want to see?”
She chuckled. “Yeah, you’ll never understand.”
“Nope.” He dropped the curl and followed her gaze as she continued flipping through the pages. There were pictures of the twins at their birthdays and Christmas. “Your great-grandmother did an amazing job keeping Marge in the loop. She must not have agreed with Mabel at all.”
“Looks like it. It’s so sad. I bet Elena was in tears when she looked through all these. Since they were all left on the coffee table, I can tell she beat me to them.”
Hunter took a deep breath and slid a hand on top of hers, making the connection he craved, knowing she did too. “Come home with me.”
She didn’t move or say anything.
“I need clean clothes. I can make us lunch.” She lifted her fingers and brushed them over his cheek. “I want you to see my house. I want you inside it.”
She lifted her gaze and nodded. “Okay.”
He closed his eyes and tipped his cheek into her palm. Blessed angels.
Chapter 15
Something changed the moment Layla entered Hunter’s house. She’d been hesitant to go there, afraid of this very possibility, but he’d been so insistent. It had meant a lot to him. So, she’d consented.
Luckily, he left her to her thoughts, saying nothing as she wandered around in his space. The home was beautiful, inside and out. The view from his back windows was breathtaking. Mountain ranges extending as far as she could see in the distance.
The entire back wall of the living room and kitchen area was windows. Floor to ceiling. And she understood why. Who cared about the house itself with a view like this? She could sit on his back patio for days on end staring at the landscape.
The inside was decorated with a rustic, country-western vibe. Hardwood floors, wooden furniture, rugs, a chocolate-colored sofa she could sink into. “Do you run out there? In wolf form, I mean.” she asked as she returned her gaze to the back.
“Not often. I can, but I like to get farther out of town. It’s better if few people see us shift or race off in lupine form. Even though intellectually people grasp the concept, it’s still more than most people can wrap their minds around.”
“Yeah. Me too,” she whispered. The entire thing was surreal. She’d known this man less than two days, and it was unnerving how attracted she was to him and everything about him. His house somehow felt comforting and inviting. As if she were home. That made no sense.
It also smelled like him. If she thought being around him was powerful, being in his home was far more intense. Every breath drew him inside her.
She could sense him coming closer until he stood next to her, staring out the window. “Somehow the view looks different today, seeing it through your eyes,” he murmured. When he turned to her, he didn’t touch her. “Wander around. Do whatever you want. I’ll make us some lunch.”
His openness and candor should have been shocking. It wasn’t. It was as if there were no other options. She belonged here. This house was hers. She was welcome to explore. That was his insinuation.
It was difficult to argue. She sensed it all. The truth of it burrowed inside her. Whether or not she could accept it was another thing.
Yes, she’d left Los Angeles with no intention of returning, but she hadn’t intended to stay in Canyon Springs either. That had been the furthest from her mind.
What about Elena? She hadn’t come home last night. She was with Caleb. That was so unlike her that Layla had to admit chances were she was feeling the same intensity.
Layla took Hunter up on his offer and wandered toward the hallway. The house was a ranch, so the hallway led to several rooms. She found an office, two guest rooms, and a master bedroom. She sucked in a breath when she realized the master bedroom had the same view of the mountains. Breathtaking.
The master bath had a large picture window facing the view also. Based on the quality of the building materials and the unique design, she assumed this house was a custom design. Even his walk-in closet was perfect.
It turned out he was pretty tidy for a bachelor, especially one who hadn’t specifically been expecting company. The king-sized bed was made. It was also four-posted which reminded her of the scarves they’d played with last night.
She trembled as she set a hand on his dark navy comforter and ran it down the material. It was impossible not to picture herself lying on this bed, spread eagle with his lips all over her body.
A noise behind her made her spin around to find Hunter in the doorway. He was swallowing. “Lunch is ready, but if you don’t stop fantasizing about my bed, we’ll never get to eat.”
She gasped. “How do you know what I was thinking?” It scared the hell out of her how often he guessed her mood or her thoughts.
He shook his head. “Not because I can ready your mind, Layla, but because I can smell your arousal.”
“Oh. Right.” She shuffled her feet back and forth. “For some reason, I feel like I can smell yours too.”