46. Whenever, However and Always

Chapter 46

Whenever, However and Always

MEGAN

W hy not us?

I stare up at the man whom I'm already falling in love with.

My heart is racing.

He's usually so calm and composed, not a hair out of place. Even in his anger, he's like a frigid glacier, an immovable mountain. And yet right now, in front of me, he looks worked up, furious, his grey eyes boring into mine, demanding an answer—willing me to tell him exactly what he wants to hear.

I've spouted lie after lie at him, hoping that he bought my deceit and believed that I was content with a physical relationship. I hoped that if I said it fiercely enough, with just the right amount of conviction, even I would begin to believe it.

I never expected this reaction.

"So..." I choke on my salvia, feeling disoriented. "Do you want to date me?" I finally ask after a long moment, and I can hear the disbelief in my voice.

"That's a start," Hunter says with a tight facial expression.

"Why?" The question slips out of me before I can reel it back in. He stares at me, and his hands finally loosen their grip on my arms.

"Other than the possibility of being hurt, which is the chance all humans take, I need to know why you're so afraid of falling in love with me. After all, while you may know about some of the darkest parts of me, you can also see that there's some light, too."

My heart crawls up my throat as he puts me on the spot. I don't want to answer his question, and I can tell that he knows it. I'm just not sure that I have any more lies left in me.

"You have five seconds," he warns.

"I don't know how to explain it," I try bullshitting him.

"Try."

"It doesn't make any sense."

"It will to me."

I lower my eyes from his. I'm not sure that I can look at him as I say the words. "You make me feel safe."

"Is that it?"

I raise my eyes back to his. The disappointment in his gaze is crippling, but if he wants more of an explanation, I'll give it to him.

"Ever since you walked into my life, everything has changed. I feel hopeful about my work, where I live, and even my life at school. You've been kind to me, and you protect me. It's a nice feeling to know that someone has my back, and when I'm around you, I can see a better future, a happier one than the mediocre one I imagined."

I look away, disconcerted by his gaze that is stripping the truth from me.

"I can't get you out of my head," I tell him. "And it terrifies me."

The words are raw; this time, his head lowers to nuzzle my cheek. "Is that all?"

My eyes slip shut as his show of gentle affection creates a physical vibration within me. "That's all you get."

"Then will you believe me that I feel alive around you, too?" he asks, and my eyes flutter open to meet his. "It's been a long time since I felt that way. Truthfully, I'm not sure if I've ever felt something like this."

I'm silent, not knowing what to say because how could someone this fantastic have never fallen in love?

He lets out a heavy sigh, "You don't believe me, do you?"

"Seems a little unbelievable." I give him a wary look. "I'm hardly ever nice to you."

"I disagree." He gives me a slightly amused look. "You saved me from an armed gunman in my own home. It's almost as if you actually want me to stick around."

"So, where do we stand?" I ask, still feeling hesitant. "Are we?—"

He covers my mouth before I can finish my question, his brows knitting together. "If you say fuck buddies one more time, you won't like the consequences."

I abruptly push his hand away. "Stop threatening me with whatever these consequences of yours are. What are you, my principal?"

His grin is wide, and seeing that expression on his handsome face always makes my heart stop.

"That's something we can try," he teases. "I'm open to role-playing."

It takes me a second to process his meaning, and when my hand automatically lifts to playfully hit him on the chest, he immediately grabs it.

"Careful, Miss Taylor, you're still injured. I wouldn't want those stitches to pop. Since we're going to do this." He doesn't let go of my hand. "I would like to date you properly."

"I think your idea of dating and mine might be very different," I say hesitantly, still trying to grasp what is happening between us.

Hunter arches a brow. "Well, what do you call dating?"

"I don't know. It's been a while since I went out on a real one, but usually dinner or movies or something like that."

He pauses, and there is an odd undertone to his voice. "You want me to take you to the movies?"

I study him, suddenly finding the mental image in my head a little too funny.

"Why're you smiling?" he asks, almost defensively.

"I was trying to imagine you in one of those seats," my lips twitch. "I just can't see you watching a blockbuster movie in a crowded theatre."

"You're right." Hunter stares at me. "I can think of plenty of other creative uses of my time and yours."

"I'm not saying we have to do that," I say, hoping it's not apparent that I'm blushing.

"The advantage of dating me is that I can take you to the best restaurants or fly in the most talented chefs to cook us a gourmet meal at home."

Hunter steps closer to me and continues, "I can fly you to Venice or Switzerland for a weekend where you can watch the snowfall and ride in the gondolas. I can take you shopping in whichever part of the world you desire. That is my idea of a date."

"Of course, it is Richie Rich," I mutter under my breath.

"What was that?"

"Nothing. Look, I don't know, okay? Let's just go slow. I still need to process the fact that you just admitted to being a mass murderer."

He frowns. "It's not like you didn't know."

"I didn't!" I scowl at him. "Not really."

"So you pretended not to know?"

"I'm the manager of the Blue Whiskey. Whatever else it is you do is none of my concern."

"You're the manager because I needed to replace the old one," he reminds me.

"Did you kill Steve?" I practically whisper, praying that Hunter gives me the right answer.

"Would it bother you if I did?" he asks, his expression suddenly going blank.

I consider the question carefully before I answer it.

"I was exposed to violence at a very young age. Nobody ever protected me. Not until you. You may be a monster to the world, but not to me, and right now, that's all that matters."

I stand up, move past him, and clean the broken vase.

"Megan, I'm not a villain. These are not good people I deal with in my business."

"I never said you were."

"I have my own code, and I've never once hurt a woman or a child," he explains.

I toss some of the broken shards into a nearby wastebasket.

"I'm glad." I look up to meet his steady gaze. "Seriously, I'm happy to know that."

"But all this honesty between us also means that if you ever decide to leave me, you won't be able to," he explains, leaning against the edge of the desk, facing me. "I can't unsay what I've said in this room tonight. There are a select few people who know what I really do. I maintain my image as a business owner to protect my real identity as a professional fixer."

"Yes, of course," I say, dryly. "I figured you had a dual thing going on, but I just thought I‘d pretend not to know. Helps with staying alive, you know."

"Megan." Hunter strides across the room. His hand reaches out to caress my cheek. His voice is deceptively soft. "This is what I was trying to say earlier, albeit badly. I'm not some crazy control freak. What I meant to say is that if you decide to leave me, you will still have to work for me—in whatever capacity because it's the only way I can keep you safe. I hope you understand that."

I let out a deep breath, trying to steady myself. "If you think that saying this to me makes me feel comfortable about dating you, it's not. Threats in the bedroom can be both creative and enjoyable. Outside, I have an issue with them."

"These aren't threats."

"Humph. Last time I checked, I'm the one who saved you from a certain death by gunfire." I pat my stitches as a reminder. "So, maybe you're the one who needs to be careful about walking away from me. It seems to me that I'm the one who keeps you safe."

He leans forward, brushing his lips over mine. "I can't decide whether your reckless side stems from bravery or stupidity."

"It's a healthy mixture of both," I inform him, kissing him back.

Then, I reach out and pat his cheek, smirking, "Now, since you've forced me to break my vase of pretty flowers, you have to get someone to finish cleaning it up."

He backs me into one of my office walls.

"In a minute."

Hunter slides his hands back under my skirt.

"Sex again?" I ask facetiously as I slam my head against the wall in excited anticipation.

"Sex with you whenever, however, and always."