CHAPTER FORTY-SIX Benedict

I slid my hand into Hunt's just before we walked into Smitty's. "Is this okay?" I asked. "If you're uncomfortable, I'll understand."

"I like it," he answered. "I want folks to know we're dating."

I stopped and tugged him to the side of the front entrance. "Is that what we're doing, Hunt?"

Like always, here I was again, checking in to make sure I was safe because of how I was feeling. I had a bad habit of never trusting emotional connections. No matter how hard I tried to just go with the flow , I simply couldn't flow. I had to have constant reassurance before I got too deep.

He studied my face. I kept my wishful thinking under wraps as he gazed at me. My feelings for him had to be crystal clear by then, but still I was afraid of what he wanted. What I wanted.

"I hope we are," he replied. "I want us to be."

"Okay," I agreed. "I mean, if you're sure," I quickly added, biting the inside of my cheek. "I was just wondering."

He moved his hand to the side of my face. His touch, as always, sent fire raging through my entire body. I'd never been so into a man in my life. Hunt did things to me that scared the holy spirit out of me.

"And do you feel the same way?" he asked. I quickly nodded. "I know you're scared, Ben. I know because so am I."

My eyes filled, and he pulled me against his chest and held me. "I'm sorry, Hunt, but I've never dated," I whispered. "No one has ever wanted to date me."

He held my wrists and gently moved me back a step. "I want to date you, Ben," he affirmed. "To be completely honest, I want you to be mine. And I know it's way too soon, according to the rules and shit like that, but I do."

I carefully studied his face, looking for any evidence that Hunt wouldn't destroy me. He was so handsome that I hurt inside. He was strong and masculine. I wanted him to protect me always. From what, I wasn't sure, but I knew with all my might that he could be a person who I could trust.

Had I ever trusted another human being? Sadly, no. Not even my parents were trustworthy. I'd felt like an inconvenience my entire life. And now, like a source of money to be manipulated by my father.

I was so inexperienced at talks like this one. "Does that mean you want me, like, as your partner?" I asked. "We would actually admit what we are to people if they asked one of us?"

"We could," he agreed. "We could agree to be dating and then we decide if we only want to date each other. I'm a one-man person, Ben. I couldn't share you," he acknowledged.

"You couldn't?" I mumbled, wondering why I wanted to cry so badly.

I was an accomplished man in my professional life. I also felt confident and like I could handle myself responsibly as I made choices about my career and my goals. But hearing Hunt say that he couldn't share me with another man made me feel something uncharted. He seemed to be saying that I was enough.

"I'd have to draw the line on sharing you," Hunt continued. "I like my man to be my man."

"And you're really gay?" I asked, probably sounding stupid.

"Ben? What is this? Are you worried about me?" he asked, pulling me into his chest again. He kissed the top of my head and spoke softly into my ear. "I want to be married again one day. To a man. I don't know about your last relationship, but I do not see us as simply a hookup. Is that what scares you?"

One of Plentywood's residents drove by in their truck and honked, giving us a thumbs up and a wave. It wasn't lost on me that this odd little town sure seemed accepting of its gay members.

"He never told me he wanted to be with me," I confessed, speaking about Rocco, burying my face into Hunter's neck. "After three years. Not even once."

Hunt held me closer and soothed me by rubbing the back of my neck. In his presence, I felt safe as he wrapped me in his protection. A protection that seemed so natural to him. A protection I had never felt from a man.

"If you're truly over him, Ben," he began. "I'd like to promise you that you'll always know where we stand with one another. I have no problem telling you how I feel."

I pulled away and locked eyes with him. "I'm kind of scared," I admitted. "I like you so much, Hunt. But maybe I'm not too good at this. I could never convince Rocco that I cared for him."

Hunt lifted my chin. "Maybe he didn't want to be loved by a man, Ben. Would it be so bad if you gave love another try?"

"Are you going to give love another try?"

"I already am, silly boy."

"Really?"

Hunter smiled and held my hands before kissing my forehead. "Really."

There was something about Hunt that made me think I could try. Toward the end of my three years with Rocco, I had become numb to the chance he'd ever love me back. Perhaps I hadn't valued my worth back then. I'd never required Rocco to be more than he offered. He'd wanted a simple, no-strings sex arrangement, and I'd tried to make us into something we weren't. As things turned out, he let me leave with not one iota of regret. As if our three years meant nothing.

"Okay," I sniffed. "God! I'm such a child," I added, swiping at tears and trying to compose myself. "I hate my insecurities."

"How about we accept each other's insecurities and voice them when needed?" he asked. "Because get ready, but I've got a dozen or so myself."

"Big man like you?" I teased, placing my hand on his broad chest and remembering the last time he'd been inside me. Hunter Copeland did it for me.

Hunt held his hand out for me to hold. "How about we go inside and show the town what's been going on over at the clinic late nights?"

"Stop!" I said.

"You sure?" he joked. "The basement was fun."

I slapped at him. "Never mind," I concurred. "Kiss me, sheriff."

The moment Hunter placed his lips on mine, my skin reminded me of what I felt for him. I was falling hard. How long could I go without admitting how I felt about him? And did I want to continue hiding that something else was happening in my life?

There were non-answered texts on my phone that I'd ignored for days. Texts from someone who'd resurfaced from my past. Was I truly over that part of my life? And now, add even more to that. Now there were persistent texts and calls coming from someone local.

"You ready, pretty boy?" Hunt asked, motioning toward Smitty's entrance.

I hated to admit that I loved when he referred to me as a pretty boy. I knew it made me sound soft or feminine, but it was how I felt with him. He made me feel beautiful and that even if I was passive sexually and loved a powerful man to dominate me, I could still be attractive to someone.

I hadn't felt that way in New York with the only other sort of serious man I'd been with. Rocco teased me incessantly about being kind of girly in bed. But not the big and studly sheriff. Hunter seemed to crave my body and the way it behaved when he touched me.

I grabbed Hunter's hand and leaned against him. "I'm ready, handsome."