“Jo, you’re my kind of fire.” His hands came around her, tangling in her hair to pull her face to his.
But before he could kiss her, she pushed off his chest and sat up. “Actually, I could eat.” She jumped up before he could grab her.
He sat up and threw a pillow at her. “Mean.”
She stuck her tongue out at him. “You started it.”
He ran a hand over his head, smiling at her.
“What?”
“You’re naked.” He wobbled his eyebrows at her. “And damn fine to look at. I’d have to say you’re the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen in my life, Jo Stephens.”
Her heart was thumping like crazy, but she said, “You’re just hoping you’ll get lucky again.”
He nodded. “But it’s true. Every word of it.”
She crossed her arms over her chest, shifting from one sock-covered foot to the other. “I... Th-thank you,” she stuttered. “I— Let’s eat?” He stood up then, all glorious manliness, and it was her turn to stare.
“Here.” He tossed her his undershirt.
She smiled and tugged it on. She rolled up the sleeves, hugging herself and sighing at the intoxicating scent of Hunter.
He pulled on his boxer shorts and his flannel snap-up shirt. “Stew?”
“Stew.”
They warmed up two big bowls of stew and a plate of honey corn bread, carrying it back into the living room to picnic before the fireplace.
“Yummy,” she said between bites.
“Cooking.” He held up the bowl. “One of the many skills I hadn’t planned on picking up.”
“Cooking is a good skill to have.”
“I didn’t want Eli to grow up on frozen dinners or scrambled eggs. I used my mom’s cookbook a lot, in the beginning.” He took a long drink of water. “Can’t touch her cooking, but we don’t starve.”
She grinned, imagining Hunter poring over cookbooks and meticulously following each recipe. He was a scientist, methodical and calculating. She had no doubt he’d spent hours making sure he’d done his mom’s recipes proud. Unlike Josie’s mother, Mags Boone was one of those women who excelled at motherhood. She had died in a car accident a year after Josie had gone to New Mexico. Josie had come back for the funeral—she’d had to. Seeing Hunter so sad, the Boone family so uncertain, had been a nightmare. So was seeing Amy with Hunter’s tiny son. She’d given each of them her sincere condolences and headed back to the safety of school. But she’d often thought about Hunter and the family, written countless letters and emails she never sent. Nothing she could say would ease the ache of Mags passing.
“I bet she would’ve loved that you cook her food for Eli.” Josie beamed at him, loving his answering smile. “What’s another skill you never thought you’d learn?”
Hunter sat back against the couch, his long legs stretched out in front of him. He stared into the fire. “Well...potty training.” He laughed. “I mean, I was planning on helping out. I just thought it’d be a team effort.”
Josie sat her bowl on the floor at her side. “When did Amy leave?”
Hunter looked at her. “We lived under the same roof for a little over a year. Then she went back on the rodeo circuit, stopping in now and then.”
“B-but Eli was a baby.” She couldn’t imagine leaving something so little and helpless. “You... How... Wow.” She took his hand in hers. “So, you were in school with a baby, on your own.”
He shook his head. “I was never on my own, Jo. My father, my brothers, Renata, hell, my aunts came down to help out whenever they could.”
She nodded. “I know. It’s just—”
“He never had a mother.” He squeezed her hand. “You know all about that.”
She scooted across the floor to snuggle against his chest. “Oh, I have a mother. She’s on husband number seven. But this is the second time she’s married this one, so maybe he’ll be a keeper.”
Hunter’s laugh was low. “You like him?”