11. Cara

Chapter 11

Cara

It is agonizing to go back to the living room and watch holiday movies after the too brief, interrupted kiss.

I need more. I feel like I’m on fire.

And Hunter’s gaze is always, always on me.

All of my most secret fantasies feel fully on display for him, as if Daddy’s horny girl is tattooed on my bare skin.

Two movies and three dessert breaks later, Hannah finally yawns and announces it is bedtime.

“Santa will be coming soon,” she says happily.

I wonder if I should feel some kind of shame for the wicked thrill that goes through me as she says that.

I don’t. At all.

I follow her upstairs, and promise to wear my matching PJs in the morning. I go into the little spare bedroom and lay down on the bed, heart galloping a mile a minute. There’s no way I’m wearing the PJs she picked out to secretly meet up with Hunter tonight, so I leave my regular clothes on. Then I listen to the house settle, to Hunter going up and down the stairs a few times, bringing bedding down to Wyatt and crew in the living room.

Doors open and close. Water runs.

And then silence falls over the house like a cozy down blanket.

According to my phone, it’s only been about fifteen minutes since Hannah went to bed, which isn’t nearly enough time, but my body is aching to go to Hunter now.

I play a puzzle game on my phone. Lose badly.

Listen to the quiet nothing of the house.

Try to play again. Give up.

Finally, when it’s been twenty- three minutes and also a lifetime, I ease the door open, step into the dark hallway, and run smack into Hunter at the top of the stairs. He’s taken off his buttoned-down shirt, and is now just wearing a t-shirt over jeans. He’s also carrying a giant sack.

He gives me a wide grin. “Hi,” he whispers.

“What are you doing?” I whisper back.

“Playing Santa.”

That’s freaking adorable. And it feels maybe a decade late. “I hate to break it to you, but Hannah knows that the North Pole isn’t a real place.”

“I mostly do it for Wyatt.”

I giggle. That’s fair.

He jerks his head. “Can you find my room?”

Heat races through me and I nod.

“Go on then.” His gaze slides over my body, and he smiles in a deeply satisfied way that turns that rioting heat into something even more intense. “I’ll be right there.”

I walk past the bathroom at the end of the hallway and turn into the wing Hannah pointed to earlier.

Hunter’s private space.

A light was left on inside, a warm glow that pulls me deeper into the room. There’s a bed at the far end, but before that is a sitting area with an oversized reading chair, a large full-length mirror next to a door that looks like it goes to a walk-in closet, and on the other wall, a lot of framed art. In the centre of the sprawling display is a large illustration that catches my eye, of the same cartoon character in the framed print downstairs, but this sketch is rougher. And he’s sitting next to a little girl.

“Hannibal the Unterrible’s ignoble beginning,” Hunter says quietly from behind me. “Hannah always wanted a brother. But he morphed into a grumpy little tyrant. Which maybe would have happened with an actual sibling, too.”

I turn around. “Hannibal the Unterrible,” I repeat, looking at my first kiss in a whole new light. “I couldn’t remember his name. He was a big deal.”

Hunter shrugs a little, but he looks proud.

“So when you said you’re an illustrator…”

“You might be familiar with some of my work.”

“They made this into a movie .”

“They sure did.”

“That’s…” Well, that explains why Hannah drives a nice car. “Very cool.”

He puts his hand on the door. “Can I close this?”

A tremor of anticipation ripples through me and I nod. “How did the Santa Claus mission go?”

“They all pretended to be asleep downstairs.”

I smile. “That’s cute.”

“Wyatt likes you, you know. And my brother is an excellent judge of character.” Hunter’s gaze searches my face. “My daughter likes you, too.”

“I know.” I worry my bottom lip. “The nickname was a strong clue.”

“Practically kidnapping you and demanding you attend her family holiday gathering was another one? ”

“Yeah.” I nod. “Is she always that…forceful?”

“Only if she loves you.”

“I…” I don’t know how to tell Hunter that my relationship with Hannah is a bit lopsided.

He smiles softly. “It’s okay if you don’t love her back in the same way.”

“She’s just a lot.”

“She is.”

“Raising her must have been hell.”

“No.” He shakes his head. “I mean, yes. To the outside observer, that’s a likely guess. But no. I love being Hannah’s dad. I love how willful she is. It’s going to take her far in life, even if it does sometimes knock the wind out of anyone trying to make her slow down.”

I blink in surprise. It’s not what I expected him to say. It’s…better.

And the guilt that missed me earlier now floods my chest like a dam burst.

I have been a horrible friend to Hannah. “She really is remarkable.” A lump forms in my throat. “And, um… I should go ba ck to my room.”

“Why?” He frowns. “Cara, wait?—”

“I can’t get between you and Hannah.” I shake my head and go to step around him. “She might not believe in Santa anymore, but she still believes you are the world’s greatest dad, and I can’t be a part of ruining that for her. Or for you, for that matter. If we do anything more than what we’ve already done, I think you’ll regret it in the morning.”