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Chapter 4

How on earth was the sexy silver fox I had practically run over earlier today standing outside my door claiming to be my ex’s father? For a moment I wondered if someone had put some kind of hodo on my door that attracted strange men. Even though I didn’t believe in such things, an evening like the one I had, was fast making me a believer. He looked as surprised as I did. Behind him I saw Mrs Rowinski being her nosy self. A moment before I would have never dreamed about taking the safety chain off the door, not with the evening I was having. But I had questions I wanted answers to, and this man made me feel safe. Which was stupid. He was an easy one and a half head taller than me, his body looked to be made by a brick wall and there was zero chance of me ever overpowering him if he tried to hurt me. But then there were those honey-coloured eyes. Before I had a chance to think about it, I closed the door half way and as he started to object, I unchained the safety chain and opened it fully.

“I guess you better come inside,” I told him. He looked at me for a moment, then he nodded and walked past me. I got a hint of spice drifting to my nose as he walked by. I closed the door, locked it and put the chain back in place, because I had no idea where this evening was going and I pretty much assumed that someone else would try to get my door opened at some point.

“Please sit down, would you like some tea or coffee?” I asked and showed him my couch.

“I’m fine, thank you, Hana. Is it okay if I address you as Hana or do you prefer me to use Mrs Hunting?” he asked as he sat down on the couch. I realised how small my couch was. No matter where I sat down, I would be close to him. My body tingled at the idea, but my mind told me it was a bad move. Would he be offended if I got a chair to sit on? I decided not to risk it and sat down as far away from him on the couch as I could.

“Hana is fine. I don't go by Mrs Hunting anymore,” I told him and put the rolling pin I had in my hand on the coffee table. His eyes followed my movement and I thought I saw amusement in his eyes.

“And why is that?” he asked.

“Because I’m no longer married to Simon.”

“Since when?” I frowned at him. My sex starved body may react to him like a cat to catnip, but I needed to draw the line somewhere.

“I don’t want to be rude, you seem like a nice man. But that is private and I’m not comfortable sharing it with you.” He frowned.

“As Simon’s father I think I have a right to know,” he told me. It was my turn to frown.

“Not to be rude, Mr Gardner, but I have met Simon’s father. It’s not you,” I told him. This didn’t seem to get him in a better mood.

“First, call me Hunter. Second, I am his father. I may not be a prominent part of his life, but he is my son nonetheless. I’m guessing you have met my ex’s new husband, Rich,” the sexy man on my couch grumbled. I slowly started to put the pieces together. It was true that I had never heard Simon call Rich his father, but as he hadn’t said anything about having another father, I had taken it to be another one of Simon’s quirks.

“Oh. Sorry about that.”

“How come you have been married to my son and not know that?” he asked.

“How could I have been married to your son and never met you?” I asked in return. He gave me a quick smile and I could feel my heart racing.

“Touche,” he said. “Truth be told, Simon and me don’t have the best relationship. Since I cut him off financially four years ago I haven’t talked to him.” He sounded regretful. Part of why I had a hard time believing Hunter was Simon’s father was because how different they both seemed.

“Then why did you show up here today?” I asked.

“I have a buddy in the police department, he let me know Simon was in trouble. I think the police have already talked to you,” he said. At the mention of the police I tensed up.

“Yes, two detectives,” I said. He looked at me, like he was trying to figure something out.

“Did they treat you badly? Did they threaten you?” he asked and I was surprised to detect anger in his voice. I shook my head.

“No. I wouldn’t say it was a pleasant experience, but they just wanted to know where Simon was. I told them I didn’t know and that they would be better off talking to my lawyer as he has had all the contact with Simon since I filed for the divorce,” I told him.

“I knew you two got married, but I didn’t know you had split up,” Hunter remarked.

“It’s new. The divorce finally went through two weeks ago,” I told him.

“Did the detectives tell you why they were looking for my son?”

“Not in so many words,” I said. I knew I was being evasive, but I didn’t know if I could trust him with what had happened after the detectives had left. He looked at me again. I felt myself blush under his intense gaze and I told myself to get a grip.

“Could I get your lawyer's number?” he asked.

“Sure, but the detectives will have beaten you to him,” I said as I stood up. He shrugged.

“I have ways of getting information that the police don’t,” he told me and I felt myself getting more tense. Who was he? Why would he say something like that and what did it mean? Was he a gangster like the others? He kind of looked like one, like if one of the main characters from a dark romance novel had stepped out of their book and taken up a seat on my couch. The whole thing was making me nervous.

“I’ll get it for you. I’ll get some water as well, can I get you something?” I asked as I stood up. I tried to hide the small tremble in my hands.

“I’m good, thank you,” he said, watching me. As I walked out into the kitchen, I felt his gaze on my back. I scribbled down my Lawyer’s name and phone number on a post-it and filled a glass of water. During the whole time I could feel him watching me from the couch. My nerves were fraying quickly. As I handed him the post-it, I lost focus on the glass of water and tilted it as I bent forward. Water poured out and to my utter horror, it splashed on the bottom of Hunter’s pants.

“Oh god. I’m so sorry, I get so clumsy sometimes, I’m really sorry, just let me get some paper towels and I will clean it. I’m so, so sorry,” I told him, not daring to look at him.

“It’s okay, just a little water. It isn’t a big deal,” he said.

“No, no. It’s my fault, I should have paid better attention, I’m really, really sorry,” I continued. My anxiety was spiking and I was spiralling. As I tried to tell Hunter how sorry I was, I felt my hands and feet go cold and before I knew it, the glass had slipped from my hand. I tried to catch it, but my reflexes were too slow. Instead I managed to smack the glass against the table and it shattered. I was royally screwed. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I didn't mean to. I’m just clumsy, I try not to be, but sometimes things just happen,” I started ranting and trying to hold back my tears and kneeling between the couch and the coffee table to pick up the glass. I felt a heavy, confident hand on my shoulder. It felt warm as my body was forcing all the warmth out. Hunter was kneeling in front of me, looking into my eyes.

“Sweetness, I need you to take a deep breath. Can you do that for me?” His voice was deep and calm. I nodded. “Good, let's do it together.” He pulled in a deep breath and I followed his example. We released the air together. I felt the tension start to leave my body and my spiralling thoughts calm down. “That’s better,” he told me. “These things happen, it’s not a big deal. But you are hurt, sweetness. Let me look at your hand.” He reached for my hand and I was surprised as I let him take it that there was blood staining it. His fingers were gentle as he pried my hand open and he tutted as we both saw the piece of glass that had pierced my palm. “Let me help you up and then we will rinse it off in the kitchen,” he told me. I just nodded. It felt like his calm demeanour had made me put all my actions into his hands. Somehow it made me feel safe.

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