I braced myself for his wrath.
“He showed up on my beach. I didn’t encourage him. I was trying to get him home.”
“I know,” he surprised me by saying. “I watched you ineffectually leading him this way.” He shook his head. “How is it you can put some asshole clerk in an ill-fitting suit in his place and not be able to send my dog home?”
“I tried.” I crossed my arms. “He’s as pigheaded as you are.”
He lifted one eyebrow, regarding me in silence. When he spoke, I swore he was trying to hold in his laughter.
“I don’t appreciate you disparaging me in front of my dog. He’ll lose respect, and I’ll have to rebuild his trust.”
My lips quirked, and I tried not to laugh.
“I speak only the truth. He refused to come without me.”
“Well then, I suppose I owe you a cold drink for your efforts.” He held out his hand. “Come on up.”
I blinked and looked around. I peered over the edge, wondering if he was drawing me closer so he could indeed throw me off. He laughed at my hesitation.
“I’ll behave.”
“I haven’t seen much evidence of that so far,” I muttered, slowly walking up the incline.
I accepted his hand nearer the top and let him pull me the last few feet. I stumbled a little, and he gripped my arms, holding me upright.
“Okay?” he asked.
“Yes, I’m fine.” I indicated Cash, who was lying on the porch, looking innocent. “How did he get off the lead?”
Hunter scratched his head. “I can’t find it. I swear the little fucker hid it. I tied him to the porch, and he got out.”
“Maybe you should change his name to Houdini.”
He chuckled. “I’ll go buy a new collar tomorrow. After you leave, I’ll lock him in the house.” He pointed to the chairs I used to sit in with Mr. Owens. “I’ll get us a cold drink. Sit.”
I sat down, grateful for the canvas overhang. I peered up at it, noticing it was getting threadbare in places. It would have to be replaced soon.
Hunter came out and handed me a lemonade, the glass filled with ice, clinking against the rim. He pushed his hair off his forehead, only for it to fall back into place.
“I have this or water.”
“I figured you for a beer guy.”
“I’m out.”
“Ah.” I sipped my lemonade, absently scratching Cash’s head. He’d come to lie beside me on the porch, one paw draped over my feet.
Hunter looked down, pausing before he took a swallow of lemonade. He scratched at the back of his neck.
“Nice toes.”
I glanced down and shrugged. “I like pretty colors on my feet.” Last night after my bath, I had painted my toes a bright cherry red and added sparkles to the big toe. I wiggled them so the light caught the sparkles. “Want me to do yours?” I asked playfully.
Hunter snorted. “Yeah, sure. Maybe we could do each other’s hair too.”
“And I’ll wax your eyebrows,” I said seriously.
He blinked. “I don’t think so.”
I giggled at his incredulous look. “Teasing,” I assured him. “Your brows are fine.” I paused. “But your hair could use a trim.”
He actually chuckled at my remark. “I know. I need to find a barber.”
“Avoid the one in town. My brother tried them last year. It took almost six months until his hair grew back normal.” I smirked at the memory. Liam had looked as if he had done it himself, in the dark, with dull scissors.
He grunted, pushing his hair off his forehead again.
“You finding everything okay?” I asked, determined to be friendly.
He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “It’s a time capsule in there,” he admitted. “But I’m figuring it out.”
“Oh?”
He sipped his lemonade. I tried not to notice how his neck muscles worked as he swallowed.
I failed.
“It feels as if I am still five, walking through the door. I don’t think much changed inside since I lived there.”
“You lived with your grandparents?” I asked, shocked. No one had ever mentioned that fact.
His face became shadowed. “Briefly. More of an extended visit.”
He abruptly changed the subject. “What did Cash interrupt? Will your burly boyfriend be following you shortly to find out where you are?”
I laughed. “I was sitting on the beach, enjoying the breeze and the sun.”
His gaze flickered over me. “You don’t burn? Your skin looks as if it would.”
I shook my head. “I wear strong block.”
“And the boyfriend?” he prompted.
“No boyfriend, burly or otherwise.” I met his gaze. “Do you think I’m the sort of woman who would kiss someone while she had a boyfriend?”
He shrugged. “I have no idea what kind of woman you are.”
“Well, I’m not,” I snipped.
“Good to know.” He paused. “But you are the sort of woman who paints your toenails and puts purple streaks in your hair.”
“I like them. My mom has them as well. It’s fun.”