His stomach crunched. It was true. And not meant to be. There hadn’t been a woman who came close to Brenna for waking him up, physically and even in the brain de
partment. Not before or after those amazing years together. He had tried to accept they’d had a once-in-a-lifetime relationship and it couldn’t be repeated so that he could move on, forge a future with another woman. Tried. Bombed. But that didn’t mean there was a hope in Hades now. It wasn’t why he’d come to Vancouver. Moving here, buying a house, getting a great job—all part of the making-Dylan-happy package that would make him happy on the way. Nothing to do with getting back with Brenna.
Nothing.
‘Did you have your own house back in Kamloops?’ Brenna asked.
She seemed hell-bent on learning all that he’d been up to since they’d split. Why? Same issues as him? But she didn’t look at all tempted to get close. With nothing to lose by filling her in on the mundane, he said, ‘I moved into the cottage behind the packing shed soon after I left here. I needed my own space, and I think Mum was afraid I’d leave if I didn’t have some breathing room, so she convinced Dad to agree.’ His father was hard to live with, his depression dragging everybody down. He probably would’ve gone crazy himself, living with his parents and the constant bickering and mood swings.
‘Handy.’
‘It was. You live alone?’ There hadn’t been any sign of anyone else in the house when he’d picked her up. No lights on, no other vehicle in the lane.
‘I do at the moment, and, to be honest, living on my own doesn’t bother me. I’m hardly ever there so I don’t have time to get lonely.’ Brenna was smiling to herself.
Hunter’s heart slowed. There mightn’t be a man living with her but that didn’t mean there wasn’t someone special in her life, and that smile suggested she was thinking about whoever was her up-close, extraordinary partner. Whoever he was, Hunter wanted to meet him at dawn, guns loaded. ‘What about your mother?’
‘Lives in an apartment closer to the beach.’
‘Ten minutes out.’ Andy came through the headset.
Ten minutes and he could get active, do something constructive, like transferring their patient onto the stretcher and hauling him on board using the hydraulic pulley, not planning the murder of someone he’d never met. Brenna could stop cruising through his head like she had every right to annoy him, wind him up, reminding him of what might’ve been if he hadn’t been caught between doing his best for his family and having the future he and Brenna had planned on.
It had been such a tough choice. Whichever way he’d gone would have been fraught with consequences that would remain with him for ever. In the darkest hours of his father’s depression he’d think about Bren and what might’ve been if he’d taken the other road. But he’d never have been able to live with himself if Dad had carried through his threats to end everything. Not that it had been easy living without Bren at his side, supporting him, loving him. There’d been no one to talk to in the easy, say-anything manner they’d had. Evie hadn’t come close.
Hunter glanced across as Brenna read more messages on her phone, a little smile teasing the corners of her mouth. Longing stabbed him. Hard. The lines at the edges of her eyes were an added attraction, making her appear wiser and more experienced than he’d known her, and she’d been no slug. Now an adrenalin junkie who’d taken up photography professionally in a part-time capacity. Who’d have believed it? This was a new Brenna to him. Of course, studying more hours than were available on the way to becoming a doctor hadn’t left her room for other interests.
But haring down a mountainside while using a camera to catch other people’s moves? Did she understand how quickly things could go wrong? And the damage she could do to herself? He’d learned that the hard and painful way, he did not want the same for Brenna. He’d been struck dumb when she’d mentioned what she’d been doing in Whistler. And dumber still when, after his shocked expression had registered, she’d shrugged and asked, ‘What’s for me to lose?’
That kind of said it all and had made him feel shorter than his phone. Talk about rubbing it in. He’d taken away what she’d hoped for and she’d been telling him she’d never allow herself to be vulnerable to another person again. She could relax. He had no intention of attempting to rekindle their defunct relationship. Hurting her again was not an option. Neither was having his own heart broken again—despite that longing that had snagged him a moment ago. But it didn’t mean he wouldn’t worry if he knew she was doing something hair-raising. It terrified him, knowing from his quad-bike accident how quickly things could go belly up.
Life in Kamloops had been busy, physically hard at times, but dangerous? Not really. Not even his heart had been in danger with Evie. He was glad he’d hauled the orchard out of debt and got a good price for it so his parents could move to town, but he didn’t miss the memories of the trees he’d climbed to hide when his father had been in a particularly foul mood. There were some good ones, like gorging on peaches, nectarines and apples after school, but all in all he was glad that time of his life was finished.
When he’d realised he had to take Dylan away from the Okanagan, Vancouver had been the first—only—place that had come to mind. Dave was here. This was the one place he’d been truly happy, and he’d wanted, needed, another chance at happiness. The only snag was that Brenna lived here, but she wasn’t why he’d returned. Or was she? Underneath all the talk, was Brenna part of his reason for coming back?
CHAPTER THREE
‘I’M COMING TO your front door,’ Hunter told Brenna in his don’t-argue-with-me voice that she recognised from once upon a time. He’d attached the battery charger to her dead car, and now all she had to do was wait for her battery to suck in some energy. ‘Just in case that thief’s been back to the neighbourhood.’
‘Your telling-Dylan-off voice?’ she grumped unfairly. He hadn’t done anything wrong, had insisted on bringing her home and hooking up her car when it would make him late to see Dylan. She couldn’t blame lack of sleep, more like she’d been out of sorts since he’d turned up on Monday.
‘Not even close. He’d ignore me if I spoke like that.’
‘Again, I’m outsmarted by a four-year-old. I have to meet this kid.’ Shouldn’t have said that. Hunter would think she was looking to get friendly with him. ‘Come on. I know you want to get cracking.’
Hunter was beside her in an instant. ‘Does Poppy stay inside while you’re at work?’
‘No, she’s around beside the garage in a kennel with a large run.’
The sensor light came on as they headed around the corner, sending their shadows across the lawn, tangling them together as they walked in sync. Warmth stole through her. The tension she’d worn all day softened.
When was the last time she’d come home with a man? Not since Shane. Not that Hunter was coming inside to settle in for the evening. Or to make love in her big, soft bed. He might be causing these random feelings of longing and possibility, but he could not return to her life in any way other than as a colleague.
Though that was a temporary position, whereas if he became her life partner again there’d be nothing temporary about it. And she was afraid to try for that. Her mother hadn’t stayed around to see her grow up. Hunter had left her once. It was all too scary.
‘Hey, Pops, how was your day?’ She’d shower her beloved pet with all the love she’d stored up and have it returned without question.
Poppy stood on her hind legs to place her paws on Brenna’s shoulders for her customary pats. Her tail wagged non-stop and her tongue lolled as Bren’s fingers worked through her fur.
Brenna kissed the top of her head. ‘Missed you too.’ The best part of coming home was the welcome she always got. It warmed her and made her feel loved.
‘She makes you look smaller than ever,’ Hunter muttered, his gaze fixed so firmly on Poppy he had to be avoiding looking at her.
Was he having similar errant thoughts about her as she’d had about him over the last two days? ‘We make a good team, don’t we, Pops?’ Small? He used to like it that she was
slim and short, used to rub it in about how she should carry a ladder with her everywhere she went. But tonight’s comment didn’t seem like he was teasing. He also used to say short on stature, big on attitude. He hadn’t mentioned that tonight either. But, then, how would she feel if he did dredge up things like that from the past?
‘Dylan wants a puppy, but he has to wait until we’re settled into the house. I doubt we’ll get such a large breed, though.’ Finally, a glint of humour entered his dark gaze. ‘Though if Poppy can contain herself and not drag you all over the show then Dylan can definitely con a Lab into watching out for him.’
Brenna unclipped the chain that attached her pet to the wire running the length of the back yard. ‘Poppy, this is Hunter. Play nice with him.’
The dog dropped her front feet to the ground and strolled nearer to Hunter, watching him, her tail moving slowly from side to side, her I’m-sussing-you-out move.
‘Pat her so she knows you’re friendly.’
Hunter crouched to do as he was told. The wagging intensified. ‘Hello, Poppy. I’m glad you’re here to protect Brenna. I don’t like her coming outside on her own. Especially at night,’ he growled.
Brenna stared down at him, gripping her hips, her fingertips pushing deep, her chin forward. ‘You do realise you’re giving me the willies when it’s entirely unnecessary, don’t you?’
He looked chastened. ‘It worries me, thinking of you out in the dark if some brute’s hanging around.’ His expression softened. ‘Then again, if I’m making you more vigilant it’s not a bad thing.’
This was true Hunter. Caring, concerned, willing to put himself out there for someone. For her. She would’ve melted at the intensity in his voice, except she had to be strong and keep him at arm’s length. Damn. It wasn’t easy. And it should be.
‘I’ve been doing it every night since I brought Poppy home. She’d be the first to warn me if anyone undesirable was hanging around.’ She headed for the door. ‘I’m going inside. You want to come in?’ Brain slap. She should not be letting him into her space or there’d be further images to deal with. Too late. She couldn’t retract her invitation without looking lame. ‘I’ve made a few changes.’