Hunting Eden (Triple Trouble 1)

Chapter Five

Crabbit: Adjective, bad tempered. Pronounced: Crab-bit.

* * *

Eden

“No way,” I whisper under my breath. “Don’t let him in. Don’t let him in,” I mutter to myself, hoping that Ella picks up on our triplet spidey sense.

Sounds of casual chatter get closer. Shit, well, that didn’t work.

I slouch into my couch, trying to bury my head under my blanket.

“Hey, Eden. Are you hiding?”

Hunter.

Please, sofa, eat me up now.

His incredible American voice is laced with amusement.

That voice. It does things to me.

I shuffle myself up the couch and pull the blanket down. Peering over the blanket, I slowly meet his eyes. And there it is again. That zap of electricity. It creates a shivery sensation all over my body.

I felt it the other night too.

It wasn’t the car crash after all.

What is wrong with me?

We stare at each other. A sincere but cheeky smile floods his face.

He’s so skyscraper tall compared to me. He must be like six two or three, higher. Really bloody tall. And he’s wafted in here, filling the room with his citrusy scent. I remember that. Familiarity. That smells lush. What is that? Lemon, orange, and like a sea salt smell combined with Christ knows what, but that’s everything. I’m pretty sure my panties are taking themselves off. Pure Pantie Dropping aftershave, that’s definitely the brand name for sure. Gee whizz.

He’s so dark and dreamy and he’s not wearing a baseball cap today. I can see him in all his glory.

Natural thick eyebrows. Full head of sweeping floppy dark-brown hair on top. Shaved up the sides and designer beard and stubble. And don’t get me started on his no-nonsense full lips and those eyes that caught me out the first time we collided. He oozes confidence and sex. I can smell it. It’s like an Abercrombie & Fitch model had sex with the Greek god, Aphrodite. Wearing all black again. Black skinny jeans, plain washed-out tee, and chunky black designer sneakers. No socks. Brave in Scotland. Strong, tanned, toned arms. I remember those arms. Mmm… I bet he could swing me about. No tats that I can see. Definitely takes care of himself.I bet he manscapes too. Watch it.

He’s divine.

“Eden, don’t be rude.” Ella shakes me out of my fantasy.

“Eh, hi,” I squeak.

Smooth. Real smooth.

“Hi,” he replies.

Ella bounces her gaze between the two of us.

“Okay, riveting conversation, you guys. I need to text the girls. They’ll be so excited about your news,” Ella says as she gathers up her stuff. “We have lots to do and I have a full bucket list of shit for you to accomplish, Eden. No backing out now.” she declares before turning on her heel.

Oh crap, where is she going? Is she leaving me with Hunter? And how did he know this was my house?

I whip back my blanket and leap off the couch with way more enthusiasm than my battered body allows, being careful not to bang my thumb. You do not know how inconvenient spraining your thumb can be. I’ve hit it at least three times today already. Every time, I yelped like a Chihuahua.

“I’ll see you out.”

I catch Hunter ogle my toned bare legs. Shufflebums. I changed into my comfiest clothes when I came home. I only have a skimpy pair of gray jersey booty shorts on with my oversized pink hoodie that says Fries before Guys and a bright-pink pair of bed socks with a cute burger pattern. I do like matching my patterns. Burger and fries to go, anyone?

I’ve not got on a stitch of makeup either. With this bruised face, there’s no point in trying to cover it. It’s way too tender to touch, anyway. And crap, my hair. It’s piled on top of my head in a messy bun because I haven’t washed it for two days.

Fantastic. I’m winning all the glamor awards.

As we get closer to the front door, I grab Ella’s arm and spin her around. “Where are you going? Why are you leaving me here with him? How does he know I live here?

“I’m not even properly dressed. Look at me. My ass is hanging out of my shorts. And you’re leaving me here with a complete stranger and I’m half naked. Christ, he might jump my bones,” I say, now biting my nails.

Ella laughs. “I bloody hope he does. I’m enjoying your mini meltdown. Look, in the last few days he’s become a family friend. He wants to see you. He knows Beth. He’s all over the bloody media. He’s not a stranger. I gave him your private security gate code. We swapped numbers at the hospital the night of your crash. He’s living at the retreat for the next three months. Three. Whole. Months. He’s hired out several cabins for his entire team. He was the Championship Cup winner four years ago. Do you not remember we went to the final four years ago when he won, for a booze up? That was a mega day.” She beams, remembering.

“I was very drunk that day. That summer is a blur.”

Forgive me for trying to drown my sorrows and grief. Nope, no clue.

“He injured himself not long after that win. Now he’s back to maintain his title. Hunter King. Only the most sex on legs golfer to ever don a golf course. He is dreamy,” she says, swooning over my shoulder at him.

“He likes you. Accept that. I thought he was going to devour you right there in the living room. He sent those flowers too. The ones I told you about yesterday. I didn’t think you were listening to me. Please remember to thank him.

“Now he’s here. In your living room. Sexy as sin. By God, that man wears clothes well. They would probably look better lying on your bedroom floor though. But you, my girl, are going to lean into your bucket list. You need to find out what size his putter is. I bet it's magnificent. First on your list. Tap that.” She points over my shoulder.

My eyes widen with panic. “You cannot be serious, Ella?”

“Yeah, I am. Remember, no quibbles, no questioning. Your vagina is coming out of retirement, baby. Your year of adventure starts now.”

Winking, she sashays toward the door, waving her hand in the air.

“Shit yeah, so much fun. Bye, Hunter,” she calls back over her shoulder as she closes the door. Click. Gone.

I’m left there, standing openmouthed, staring at the front door, praying it will magically turn into a portal. I would like to step through it and erase the last crazy few hours of my life. I close my eyes, then open them. Nope, I’m still in my house.

Tucking my hands into the arms of my sweatshirt, I slink back to the living room where I find Hunter admiring the retreat view from my tall side window.

Okay, no one’s asking you to staple your nipples to the wall, Eden; you can do this. Just a simple conversation.

“It’s some view.” I genuinely can’t think of anything else to say.

Eden, pull yourself together.

“You live in one of the most incredible places in the world. I love it here. I was here a few years ago but never had the time to explore.”

With hands in his pockets, he casually turns to face me, his eyes anchored on me.

I feel that fluttering in my belly again, like I felt back in the car.

That does not feel like sickness. Something else.

“Would you like a cup of tea? We love tea here. It solves everything apparently.”

Cringe.

“Or are you more of a coffee guy? Or water, or…”

“Tea would be great, actually.”

“Okay.” I warmly smile. “I have a new locally blended tea I just bought.”

“Does that mean it has whisky in it then?”

I scoff, “Not today.”

As I shuffle my way around my kitchen. I take the milk out of the fridge, conscious not to knock my thumb.

Hunter startles me from behind when he asks me how I’m feeling. He’s crept up on me like a panther across the kitchen table. So stealthy. I feel like it’s open season and I’m his prey.

Does he want to eat me like Ella said?

The lack of actual clothes on my legs is making me feel a little vulnerable.

“I’m not going to lie, I’ve had better weeks. I’ve been crabbit with my friends and family too. I don’t think I’m in their good books.” I turn around and say with a half smile. “They reckon three weeks for my nose to get better. It currently looks like a peacock took up residence in my face.”

It really is so vivid blue, purple, and golden in places.

“Did you say you have crabs?”

“Oh my God, no. I said crabbit.” I widen my eyes. “Holy crap, Hunter.” I snort with laughter, then shield my face. I’m so attractive and in pain.“Ouch, my nose. It means bad-tempered.”

“Are you alright?”

I wave off the pain and continue with the tea making.

“I’m good. I'm going to buy you a Scottish dialect book. You need one pronto. Crabs?”

I stifle another chuckle. “You know, I watched a documentary. They said that pubic crabs are uncommon these days because of the deforestation of humans, you know, because of all the waxing and tweezing we do? I nearly wet my panties at that. They had a giant model of one—you should see that thing, it’s nasty—and they have these wee pinchers so they can grab on to the hairs.” I make a pincher motion with my good hand. “They are not pretty, but you can see why they call them cr—”

I turn around fully to finish my sentence, to face an utterly shocked Hunter across the kitchen who is trying to contain a wild laugh.

Gahhhh… shut up, Eden. Crabs? What am I talking about?

Abort mission, abort mission.

I clear my throat. “Eh, you were asking how I was. My, eh, thumb is probably about the same, four weeks. Which is just as well, because I’ve had to fight to get these puppies under control and clasp my bra daily.” I look down and give my boobs a quick squeeze.

The words spill out of my mouth spontaneously.

Hunter grips the back of a kitchen chair, dips his head, and silently bounces with laughter, shaking his head back and forth.

I feel a deep heated blush wave over me. I’m so shit at chatting to guys.

“Yikes, sorry, I should just keep my trap shut. Sometimes I have no filter. Forget I said that.”

He must think I’m a dumbass.

“I should really thank you for helping me, Hunter. You were so kind and nice to me that night. The calm I needed in that moment. And thank you for the lovely flowers. Ella said you sent them. Very sweet and thoughtful of you. You really shouldn’t have, though. I did puke up all over your shoes after all.”

I cringe with embarrassment.

“I am so sorry. I’m totally mortified. Will you let me buy you a new pair?” I tuck my bottom lip into my teeth.

“No way, Eden. I have way too many shoes, anyway.”

The way he’s now standing tall with folded arms across his broad chest. Legs spread wide, all masculine and athletic-like—it’s a very distracting combination and I can’t stop myself from sneaking glances over my shoulder. Every time I do, he’s staring back at me. He must be checking out my ass. I should have run up the stairs and changed.

“And you’re welcome for the flowers. But they weren’t for you.”

“What? Who were they for then? But Ella said…”

“Your Minnie tee shirt. She was the primary victim in all of this; I think she deserved the flowers more.”

A smile shapes my lips as a small chuckle escapes.

I relax a little.

Okay, he’s a joker.

I like him.

He’s nice.

“Yeah, my tee is royally pee’d off at me; she’s ruined. Rest in peace lovely cotton tee,” I say, making Hunter laugh.

“Well, you’ll just have to buy another one.”

“You may have an overflowing shoe collection, I, too, have an overflowing tee shirt obsession. I literally have another twenty or more Minnie tee shirts where that came from. Minnie is life. She’s all sass and ass,” I say defiantly.

“Just like you then?” He licks his lips.

I giggle. Bloody giggle, like a teenager.

He’s flirting with me. Yikes, and I’m reciprocating.

There is no way he finds me attractive. Look at me.

I clear my throat and shake my body out a little, as if to bring me out of this alternative dimension I seem to have woken up in today.

Change the subject.

“Ella’s informed me you went to the hospital that night. I’m a little confused because I don’t remember. I honestly think I have some sort of temporary memory loss after we chatted. And you met my parents there too?”

“Ah, Charlie and Edith. You parents are really cool, Eden. You’re really lucky to have them in your life. They adore you girls.”

“Yup, they are something. They still act like a pair of teenagers. Although their level of PDA gives me the boke.”

“You can tell they really love each other. And hey, I know what that means now. Boke. Being sick? You guys speak funny.”

“Oh yeah? ’Cause saying the words aluminum and oregano the way you guys do isn’t speaking funny? Yeah, right?”

“We say it correctly; it’s you guys over here that say it wrong.”

“Whatever tomato, tomayto,” I say, waving my hand.

A devilish smile curves across Hunter's mouth.

“Ella tells me you’re staying here for three months. And you’re playing in the Championship Cup?”

“Yeah, staying here to get stronger and improve my swing. One of my fellow golfers told me about this incredible retreat and I just had to go. So here I am. I’ve taken a long time off to recover from my back injury, but I feel strong and ready, or I will be in a few months.”

“Honestly and please don’t be offended, but I had no idea who you were. My friend Beth, who you met today, literally just told me this afternoon. I didn’t mean to be rude the night of the accident.”

“Is Beth your friend?”

I nod confirming she is.

He says, “You don’t even have to explain. You had way more things to worry about, and I couldn’t give a shit if you don’t, or didn’t know who I am; it's better that way. And who cares who I am. I actually found it refreshing. You were just you and I was just me. I was more concerned for your safety. However, I hope I won you over with my, how was it you put it, ah, let me get this right, ‘very kissable lips, like bouncy castles.’”

I slap my good hand over my mouth. Did I really say that? That’s so embarrassing.

“I’m sorry if I made you feel awkward. I feel awkward about that. Like super cringe. World, eat me up right now, kind of cringe. I had a bash to the face. It made me feel all dizzy and gave me foot in mouth syndrome.” That’s my excuse and I’m sticking to it.

Divert, divert…

“Soooo… cupcake? With your cuppa?”

Hunter gives me a smirk and a soft yes, please. Sensing my anxiety, he lets me change the subject.

I usher him back to the living room.

Must walk behind him so he doesn't get a full moon view of my ass again.

He sits on the opposite side of the couch from me. I’m not exactly unconfident about my body. Being a dancer, we wear skimpy outfits all the time, but I hardly know Hunter, so I grab my blanket to cover any bare skin I have on show.

I’m pretty sure my clothes will start peeling themselves off anyway if I get any closer to his aftershave. There are not many items to take off… They’d be off in seconds.

We ease into a comfortable and super easy chat over the next half hour. Hunter fills me in on what he’s been doing for the last few days. His training schedule and apparently he’s met all my family over the last few days, including my nephews. I’m stunned. He’s just slotted right in here at the retreat. Like he’s part of the furniture. And I feel like I’ve known him all my life. It’s peculiar.

I wonder if Professional Snake Charmer is listed on his resume.

“How’s the car? Do you know when it’ll be back from the garage?”

“It’s totaled. The only positive is that I can’t drive for a few weeks anyway, so I don’t need it. I need to sort the paperwork and get a new car sorted, pronto. These things always take so long to sort. The insurance people said they were sending all my information via email later today. I’m just so relieved that I’m okay. That deer could have killed me, you know? Those berries made me look like I already was, and Betsy. Poor Betsy.”

“Your dad said it was a deer. I think you should rename it Bambi.”

“Call what Bambi?”

“Your next car, we should call it Bambi. You're obsessed with Disney. It’s fitting.”

“I like that. A lot. You’re funny, Mr. King.”

I feel light. This feels nice. I hold eye contact with him.

A sudden flush of warmth rides over me.

We sit blissfully smiling at one other.

Hunter tilts his head slightly.

What is he thinking?

To stop myself from saying anything stupid, I take a bite of my cupcake. My third today. Well, if people buy them for me, I’m going to eat them.

I moan loudly as the frosting fills my mouth. Oh, that’s heaven.

“Are you enjoying that?” Eyes locked on me, a muscle in Hunter’s jaw ticks.

I lick my lips as I try to swallow my heartbeat. Time stands still for a few moments.

“Unashamedly so, yeah,” I whisper. “My weakness is cupcakes and ice cream. I’ve had three of each already today.”

I hope I’m not off work too long. Being a dancer keeps the cupcakes at bay. However, if I sit here too long, I’ll turn into a cupcake.

“Why, does Mr. King not have any weaknesses, or are you all protein shakes and vegetables?”

“I have a weakness.” He laughs loudly. “Ice cream. I love ice cream.”

“You’re a man after my own heart. My friend, Toni, owns the local ice cream parlor. Have you been yet? They have eighty-one to die for flavors. Hey, you’re here for a few weeks. You could make that your bucket list. Eighty-one flavors in three months. Tick.” I draw an imaginary tick in the air. “Could you do it?”

“Are you challenging me, Eden Wallace? ’Cause I’m game. Tell me. Your sister mentioned something about your bucket list. What’s that in aid of?”

How do I say this without going too deep?

“Ella has it in her head that I’ve become somewhat of a bore over the last few years and that I need to find happiness and love and inner peace and yadda yadda. So she’s making me her pet project. No, sorry. She said she was going to become my clarity compass or fairy godmother or something stupid like that. Who knows? All I know is that I am now in a world of having to yes to everything she sets me to do for the next year. Can you believe that? It already sounds exhausting.” I scrunch my nose—ow, that is painful.

“You know, I think your bucket list sounds fun. If I can do eighty-one flavors of ice cream in three months—and is it individual cones I have to have for each flavor?—then you can do all the things your sister sets you to do. If this is going to be your year of yes, what’s the worst that could happen? You find love, happiness, and inner peace. Yeah, that sounds just awful.” Hunter rolls his eyes.

I could listen to his voice all day. I love his accent. It sounds a little raspy, but rich and sensuous.

“Are you mocking me, Mr. King? And yes, each flavor needs a separate cone.”

“I like when you call me that; it’s when you get all commanding, feisty, and shit with me. Your challenge is accepted, Eden Wallace.”

“Uh-huh.” I squeeze my mug in my hand a little tighter. He’s mesmerizing.

I feel my pulse race a little, acutely aware of how he makes me feel. I’ve thought about him a few times over the last few days. Wondering if he was, in fact, real or a figment of my imagination in the field. I didn’t even really know who he was until a few hours ago. But he’s handsome. A golfer. A pro, no less. The golfers I see always look so serious on the course when I’m down on the beach walking. The game looks boring as shit. But if they all look like him, I need to start watching golf, Stat.

Hunter is far from boring. Hunter King. Ella’s right, I need to Google him. I’m doing that as soon as he leaves. He’s here, in my living room, with little Eden Wallace from Castleview Cove. What a surreal week I’m having.

Do you think if I go back to the front door the portal will have opened yet?

Sinking his teeth into his bottom lip, I catch Hunter staring at mine.

What is he thinking? Does he feel what I do too? This pull?

“I think I should head off now. I just wanted to see how you were recovering.” He rises abruptly. “You have an impressive home, Eden.” He motions around the space and my ego jumps with joy.

“Thank you for letting me visit you today. Or well, thanks to Ella for letting me in to see you. Do you need anything before I go?”

Who the hell is this guy? Where did he come from? Why does he care?

“No, I’m good. My mum is coming over later to help with my dinner.”

I go to stand, but he gestures for me to stay put.

“Stay. Rest. I can see myself out.”

On his exit, he confidently makes his way over to where I’m sitting. Swiftly leaning down, facing me eye to eye, he places his hands on the back of the couch, encasing me with his arms, carefully brushing either side of my head. I can feel my eyes bug out in shock. I think he’s going to kiss me. I feel a nervous tightening in my throat. What’s happening here?

I can hear and feel my breathing becoming heavier and faster. My pulse racing. Feeling energized. Feeling a connection as warmth spreads between my thighs.

He softly tucks his head into my neck. His hot breath whispers into my ear, “Just as an FYI. I have a new weakness. Do you want to know what it is, Eden?”

He doesn’t give me a chance to reply.

“Scottish girls. One in particular. See you around, Cupcake.” His luscious lips airbrush my neck, causing a tingling wave of goosebumps across my body.

In the blink of an eye, he stands, leaving his fresh aroma everywhere.

Did he mean me? Does he like me? Shit, I think he means me.

I watch him swagger toward the door. Casually reaching up, he drums the wooden beams overhead as he passes. His tee shirt rises slightly. I catch a glimpse of a deep red, fiery orange, and black tattoo on his toned lower back.

The last thing I hear is him bantering back over his shoulder.

“You should definitely do all the things that your sister says you’ve to do on that list. Including me. I want to know what else is on that list. My putter is enormous, by the way. It’s definitely time for Miss Minnie to come out of retirement. And yes, I am talking about your vagina.

“And I love your Minnie ears you have on. You are cute as fuck, Eden Wallace.”

I reach up to my head. Oh shit, I’ve still got my ears on.

And he heard what Ella said about me fucking him.

I’m going to kill Ella.

He named my vagina.

Although I quite like my new nickname, Cupcake.

Enormous.

How big is enormous?

I need a ruler.

Holy shit.