5. Hunter

FIVE

HUNTER

I n any other situation, I'd be pleased to have a woman on her knees in front of me. I've fucked a lot of women all around the world, even though I've slowed down considerably over the last few months—the episode on the plane on the way to D.C. notwithstanding.

That was more about domination—control—than chasing after a nut. It was about feeling okay in my body. I've taken in enough self-help advice to be somewhat self-aware.

Nonetheless, stunning women staring up at me with wide, pleading eyes is a look I'm used to. So I'm confused and annoyed that I'm unsettled by the beauty sprawled across my foyer.

The woman, who I presume is the interviewee for the therapist position, holds her arms out in front of August's tense body.

Before she noticed me, I noticed her, and I took an irrational and inappropriate interest in the way her chest heaved with every word she spat at the fuckhead to my right.

My attention should be solely on the fucker who just apparently hit or threw or otherwise harmed my son. The fact that I don't know what happened before I walked into the room further aggravates me.

But I'm distracted, and no matter how mature I try to be, I can't help the bolt of lust that arises as I contemplate the angry woman on my floor.

So yeah. Distracted.

Her practical black skirt stretches over her ample ass and hips, and the soft curve of flesh right over her stomach makes her look like a sculpture of a Greek goddess. Her thick, dark brown hair hangs straight down her back from the severe middle part, and her hair looks glossy with the sunlight streaming through the windows surrounding the entryway.

Her medium brown skin looks sun-kissed and supple, reminding me of amber. I'm close enough to her to smell the rose scent wafting from her skin and see deep into her expressive brown eyes. Her eyes display whorls of hazel, just like Tiger's Eye, and they're filled with fury as she protects August fiercely. I can tell that her pillowy lips come from genetics rather than vials of filler.

I'm enamored. I'm disgusted with myself.

Because this is the woman who is supposed to help me with August.

Because I should only be thinking about August, but my dick has other plans.

She is a distraction I so don't need.

Part of me is overjoyed at the thought of seeing her every day. Another part realizes it's a fucking terrible idea.

Unfortunately, the overjoyed part, i.e.,my dick, has all the blood in my body coursing through it. The rational part, my brain, has left the building, it seems.

Fuck.

A good time to focus, fuckface.

I re-center my brain to be present in the foyer.

Rodrigo stands with his hands balled at his hips, his head downcast. Ella pipes up, "So yeah, you're fucking fired. "

"What the fuck is going on down here?" Leo's voice echoes against the marble tile as his legs eat up the distance down the hall to where we stand.

"This fucker doesn't know what child abuse is," Ella rages, and a red flush crawls up her neck, making her skin blotchy.

"Cállate, pinche puta," Rodrigo spits out, and she whirls around and takes two steps toward the bodyguard, clearly not appreciating him calling her a bitch.

That is the moment in which Rodrigo fucks up.

He steps toward Ella with outrageous aggression, his arm raised as if he'd hit her. I step between the two, ready to make him eat his teeth, when Leo hurls toward Rodrigo and punches him dead in the temple.

The crack of the man's skull hitting the marble floor reverberates, and he drops like a sack.

Ella covers her mouth.

Leo delivers a kick to Rodrigo's kidney and says, "Si te vuelves aqui, cortare tu maldita cabeza." He spits on him.

A growl crawls into my throat.

Leo vows to slit Rodrigo's throat if he shows his face around here ever again.

It's not a threat. It's a promise.

"You two, get him the fuck out of here." Two more of our guards come from the shadows and drag their unconscious comrade out the front door. He leaves a smear of blood on the floor.

That should have been your move, shithead.

"Lydia will have a heart attack seeing all this blood," Ella says, her eyes never leaving Leo.

"I'll take care of it," Leo says. After a few heavy moments of us standing in the foyer, Leo snaps, " No me mires asi."

Ella stares at him with her mouth open, ignoring his instructions not to look at him. Holding her arms to her stomach, she walks away toward the kitchen .

I nod and cut my eyes toward the door leading to the courtyard.

Fuck.

"I need to check on August," I say.

"Tell him I'm sorry. I'm sorry that happened." Leo runs an agitated hand down the side of his face.

I nod again.

Leo may seem hard and cold-hearted, but he has a soft spot for children and women.

I put my hand on the door leading to the courtyard and pause, looking out the glass windows framing the exit.

The woman—damn it, I don't even know her name—rolls up her skirt, bunching it so high I see the muscles in her plump thighs.

The statue in the middle of the fountain holds August's RC helicopter hostage. It sits in the angel's hands like an offering.

This whole fucking house is the biggest, most absurd thing ever, even though Ella has updated the fixtures to bring the antique home into the 21st century.

The estate has four buildings, and our main house now has twelve bedrooms and eight bathrooms.

August and I have only been here for a week, and setting up an outdoor space hasn't been at the top of the priority list. August likes being outside, regardless of the weather. I don't know why he likes it so much. I also didn't know he was so into RC helis, but how would I, really?

I'll have to ask him why. Hopefully he'll tell me.

This whole week he's spent outside, the temperature cooperating and staying bearable. Setting up his outdoor space will be a priority now.

The woman steps onto the lip of the fountain, and my cock twitches in my pants as the muscles of her thighs flex.

Pervert .

I can't hear her clearly, her words muffled as she speaks to August. She holds a whole conversation with him.

That's something history taught me not a lot of people do.

She reaches the helicopter, and in slow motion, I watch as she loses her grip and flings it toward the grass. She goes hands and knees into the water.

In a second, she's soaked.

August rushes off to grab his helicopter. Her dog—a service dog, I guess, from the vest he wears—stands up and moves toward his soaking handler.

I take cautious steps toward the woman.

"Fuuu—Frick," the woman mutters when I'm close enough to hear her.

"Do you need help, Ms..." I shrug off my suit jacket and roll up my sleeves. Her eyes, filled with shock, snap toward me.

"Vaughan. I mean, my first name is Winter. My last name is Vaughan. So Winter Vaughan is my full name. I mean, Winter Leigh Vaughan is my full name, like, my government name. Shit, stop talking. Oh shit, I said that out loud." She groans and raises her wet hands to her face before jerking them away, probably remembering her already wrecked makeup.

"Ms. Vaughan," I say.

"Winter. Call me Winter, please," she says in a small voice. Her hands are still up near her chest, almost looking like she's praying.

"Winter." I taste her name on my tongue, then immediately give myself a mental kick in the ass. "I'm Hunter Brigham. Feel free to call me H. It's what everyone calls me." Everyone except my father.

"Would you like help getting out of the fountain?" I reach a hand toward her and grasp her wrist. Her skin is as soft as it looks .

"Oh, shoot, um, yes," she finishes with a grimace. In a second, she jumps up and stands in the fountain. The water almost reaches her knees, and her clothes are soaked.

Her white button-down blouse, which probably seemed reasonable when she dressed this morning, sticks to her chest. I try to avoid staring at the outline of her dark nipples and the lace of her bra beneath the fabric.

Stop perving on the therapist, Hunter.

That would be easier said than done—the warmth of her skin does crazy things to my nervous system.

She steps out of the fountain.

"I will…leave now," she says. Her eyes are wide, and a red flush runs up her neck and pools in her cheeks.

"I imagine you need to get dry," I reply.

"Oh, goodness, what happened to you!" Ella's voice echoes behind me, and I drop Winter's wrist. I didn't realize I still had it in my grip. Ella's eyes ping-pong between us, and that twinkle in her eye that I know means no good reappears—even after all this time apart.

"Jeez, this is a mess. August's tablet is broken. That's part of the reason why he was so dysregulated, I think. Please get his voice fixed ASAP. You wouldn't be cool if someone took your ability to speak away. By the way, do you have backups? If not, you should have several backups." She takes a sharp breath after the racing words trail off.

I resist the urge to smile at her babbling.

Stop. It. Hunter.

"Of course, you're right," Ella says brightly.

"I'll—I hope to hear from you. Heel." She snaps the last part in the direction of her pup. Winter steps around me to scoop up her shoes—black with stubby heels—and rushes back into the house toward the front door.

I should tell Ella to dump her resume. That would be the sensible thing to do.

But after seeing how fiercely she protected August and how she treated him in the brief moment they were alone, I can't help but feel that she is the whole package.

Yeah, and that could also be your dick talking.

"Sooo, that was interesting," Ella says, crossing her arms against her chest. She rolls her eyes and pulls a Now and Later out of her pocket.

"Your dentist bill must be astronomical." I smirk at her.

"Har, har," she says, giving me the middle finger.

I look over to August. He's barefoot and sitting on a sunny patch of grass. A look of pure peace rests on his angular face as he tilts his chin toward the sun. His eyelashes flutter in the breeze that's decided to grace us, and he runs a slow, absent finger around the perimeter of his broken communication device.

He looks completely unfazed by the events of the past few minutes.

"I think she's gonna be great for August," Ella says from behind me.

"What makes you say that?" I turn to her, rubbing the back of my neck. If I can direct my body's sensations to any place that isn't my dick, I can likely hold a conversation that requires thought.

"Well, she has some solid experience despite being not quite finished with school. Plus, as evidenced by what happened, she's great with Augie." Her jaw clenches, and her nostrils flare.

My hands ball into fists, so I shove them into my pockets.

"I don't think so, Ella."

She shakes her head at me, her face morphing from agitated to incredulous. "H, we can't keep going on like this. August needs better—he deserves better than this."

"Ella, she's not the right fit. Keep looking. I am his father, and I said no." My words are sharp, and she stares at me, her eyes narrowed to slits .

After a few tense and silent moments, she says as if it pains her, "Whatever you say, Hunter."

She turns on her heels to reenter the house.

And that's precisely why Winter needs to stay away. Because if it's whatever I say, it'll lead to all of our demise.