Chapter 12

 

“Thanks for tagging along with me, Hunter.” She steered her cart through the obstacle course of harried mothers, and shrieking children, the dinner rush filling the supermarket to near-bursting. The cereal aisle was always the worst.

“Why no kiddo tonight? Was kinda looking forward to seeing the little guy.”

Lacey sighed, blowing her hair out of her face, the messy ponytail she’d pulled it into already coming apart. “Hayden is in such a shitty mood today. Troy’s working late tonight so I convinced Mom to take her grandson for a while. Nice to have some adult company, for a little bit.”

“It’s cool.” He strolled along next to her, one of the battered black plastic grocery baskets swinging from his fist, his long legs taking one stride for every two of hers. “Troy asked if I minded going to the store with you since he was stuck at the office.” He gave her a quick, dazzling grin. “Not exactly an imposition hanging around with you. Needed a few things anyway.”

“Sara not taking care of you?” She bumped his hip with hers.

He grunted, the twist of his wan smile signaling something more than mirth. “I’m on a solo mission. She’s out of town for at least a week.” He plucked a box from the shelf, dropping it in his basket. “I don’t do this, I starve.”

“Not if you’d fricking come over and eat with us, you wouldn’t!”

The truth was, she’d have him over every night if she thought Sara would go for it. Troy was totally okay with it, but she knew Hunter’s wife would see it as a threat.

Would she be wrong in that?

The woman was away on business so much, it hardly seemed like she was married anymore. Lacey couldn’t imagine how it made Hunter feel. Especially considering what he’d recently confessed to his wife. Her pulling away wasn’t likely the reaction he’d been looking for when baring his soul to Sara.

“Once in a while is fine, Lace. Every day? Yeah, I’m a big boy — and Sara…”

“I know, I know.” She navigated the cart to the shortest checkout line she could find, zipping in behind a cute old woman wearing a brilliant red patterned hair scarf. The woman perused the tabloid rack with an intense interest.

The line was still eight people deep in front of her. They weren’t getting out of there anytime soon.

“How are… things? Any better?”

Hunter’s gaze slid away, his veined fingers clenching the handle of his basket tighter. “Not so hot.”

Shit.

She didn’t feel it though. Not in the least. What kind of woman — what kind of friend — acted like this? She knew she should have felt bad about the news, but instead all she felt was hopeful he’d finally grow sick of it and ditch his wife.

The wrong wife is worse than no wife at all.

Wasn’t that what her father had repeatedly drilled into her? He’d always admonished Lacey never to pick a man because he was convenient, at hand, good enough. She needed to find the one that fit her, in every way — and then she’d found Troy Warren. And she’d never been more glad she’d listened to her father.

Now, she needed to help their friend find the same thing. Sara damn sure wasn’t going to fit the bill for the adorable Hunter.

Adorable? You need to stop this shit.

“Things are… getting worse. I think. I hardly see her, and even when she isn’t at work, it’s like the lights are on but nobody’s home.”

She peered up at him, murmuring. “Is she… are you guys…?”

Hunter snorted, giving her a resigned shake of his head. “Please. Iced out.”

“Jesus, I’m sorry.” She touched his shoulder, stroking it gently, trying to ignore the urge to do a lot more. The image of cradling his head against her breasts, comforting him, her fingers lightly gliding through his hair, had her drawing a sharp breath, her nipples gathering to tight points.

Stop it, you idiot!

“Maybe I can patch things up when she gets back.”

There was even less conviction in his eyes than there was in his words.

“What about… just letting her have her space?” She hoped her words didn’t sound as hollow as they felt. “Think it through?”

He shrugged. “I know now it was a mistake to tell her. Not only isn't she kinky, but it's… driven a wedge between us. I think it’s something she avoids rather than wanting to talk to me about it. Stupid of me.”

Lacey's heart broke for him at the stark hurt she saw in his gaze. And that hurt caused a surge of anger to well within her at what Sara was putting him through. It shouldn’t be Hunter who suffered just because Sara couldn’t see what a wonderful man she had on her hands.

How many women would kill to have their husband make the kind of confession he had? Weren’t women always lamenting the fact men never wanted to talk, to communicate what they were feeling inside?

Well, he shouldn’t have been punished for having the courage to tell Sara what he really wanted. What the man was.

“I probably shouldn’t say this — they’d burn my feminist card right in front of my face. But I think it’s the truth — at least as I see it. You need a woman who will respect you, and obey you.”

Hunter’s eyes went wide at that.

“A woman who will love you — for you. A woman who can be all the things a guy like you needs. Someone who can accept, and… enjoy doing the things you want. Even the... darker things.”

Only the little old lady was ahead of them now. She’d decided on a copy of The Sun.

Hunter set his basket down on the black conveyor belt of the check stand. “Why can’t I just be… normal?”

“Said every kinky person ever.” Lacey slapped his chest gently with the back of her hand. “Come eat with us tonight.”

“I think I’m gonna pass.”

“I’m making spaghetti. You love my spaghetti.”

He nodded, chuckling. “True. But what I don’t love is torturing myself with thinking about the injustice of knowing what I want, but knowing I can never have it.”

“You mean Sara?”

He met her eyes, a tiny glint of mischief dancing in their dark depths. “Did I say that?”

She blinked, her mouth falling open. “Oh.”

They didn’t say another word as the checker scanned their groceries, the long silence taking on an uncomfortable awkwardness by the time they were walking out to the parking lot. Hunter helped her load her things, then headed for his truck, parked three spaces down.

Lacey leaned an elbow against her hood, hoping the cool autumn breeze wasn’t putting her nipples on high-beam. The thin knit top wasn’t the best idea that time of year. “Hunter, you sure you can’t come over for dinner? I’ll even let you throw your food around like Hayden does.”

He laughed, opening the mud-encrusted door to the huge pickup, and climbing in. But he didn’t shut it, meeting her gaze instead. For a breath, he merely looked at her, his head tilted slightly. “What you said in there. About the things you think I need. What sort of girl would that be, exactly?”

She knew she shouldn’t have said it, but the words tumbled from her lips anyway.

“Well, probably someone more like me.”

Though his eyebrows shot up, he gave her a warm smile. “I should be so lucky. Have a good night, Lace.”