There was a long pause and then a soft laugh. “If you’re waiting for me to be surprised, don’t bother,” JT said at last.
Hunter laughed then, a short, sharp bark of sound. “Well hell, boss. It surprises me.”
“It shouldn’t, Hunt. You’ve got a life to go back to now. That wife of yours deserves better than a parttime husband.”
Margie. She was a part of this decision, no doubt. How big a part was something Hunter hadn’t let himself figure out yet.
“Yeah, I guess she does,” he said because it was easy and it was a reason JT would understand. “Look, I don’t like leaving the team in the lurch, so I wanted you to know so you could start looking into my replacement.”
“Nobody’s gonna be able to replace you, Hunt,” JT told him. “But I appreciate it. We’ll talk when your R and R is over, okay?”
Hunter scraped one hand across his face and nodded, though his friend couldn’t see the action. “You bet. See you in a few days.”
When he hung up, Hunter stood in the swath of sunshine and waited for regret to claim him, waited for the feeling that he’d made a mistake to slam home. But it didn’t come. Instead, he felt a sense of peace he hadn’t felt in a long time. Then he turned and looked up at the big house behind him. As if he sensed her presence, Hunter’s gaze locked on the bedroom window.
“One more conversation to have,” he told himself and stalked across the stone patio, determined to finish setting his life on its new course.
Margie was in the bathtub when Hunter went upstairs after getting off the phone. He saw steam wafting from the open bathroom door and heard the splash of water and her soft voice humming a little off-key. Even as his body went stiff and eager, his mind chided him, reminding him just what he’d come to see her about.
Now that he’d made the decision to take on the family responsibility, he and Margie had to talk. Damned if Hunter wanted to admit it, but Simon had a point. If Hunter was going to stay, there was no reason for Margie to go.
Nodding to himself, he stalked across the room, stepped into the bathroom and leaned one shoulder against the doorjamb. With her back to him, she sat in the dark blue, oversize spa-jetted tub, one arm draped across the edge of the tub, jasmine-scented bubbles floating on top of the water, caressing the mounds of her br**sts. The tips of pink ni**les poked through the water and his body reacted instantly. He had to shift position to ease the discomfort in his jeans-which only told him that continuing this “marriage” was a good idea. They’d already proven they were more than compatible in bed. She loved Simon and this town. Hell. She was happy here. Why wouldn’t she want to stay?
Smiling to himself, he tore his gaze from the delectable sight of those twin ni**les and said, “Margie?” “Whoops!” She shrieked, slipped lower under the water and flipped her head around to stare at him, eyes wide. “God, Hunter! Are you trying to kill me?” She slapped one hand to her bubble-covered chest and added, “And if you are, could you not do it in the bathroom? Jeez, first in the shower, now in the bath. I really don’t want to be found dead and naked.”
He was smiling. Damn it, he usually ended up smiling around Margie. Hadn’t really thought about it before this moment, but Simon was right. She did make him happy. When she wasn’t making him crazy in bed. She was fun to talk to. Easy to be around. She’d made him realize there was more in his life to think about than his own ambitions. She wasn’t afraid to stand up to him, either, and he liked that. He liked her.
Plus, the sight of her na**d body turned him into a pillar of fire, burning up from the inside out. All good things.
Hunter watched as she pushed herself higher up against the back of the tub, and his gaze dropped to her br**sts, almost completely exposed by the disappearing curtain of bubbles.
His body went even harder than it had been before, and Hunter fought down a groan. Hell, he told himself, get the talking with over-then he’d join her in that soapy water and show her a few things with the tub’s jets.
“Is everything all right?” she asked, smoothing a wet washcloth up the length of her arm.
“What? Huh?” He blinked and shook his head. Talk. That’s right. He’d come here to talk to her. “Fine. Yeah. Everything’s good.” Better than fine, really, now that he’d made the toughest decision of his life. “I just left Simon and-”
“Speaking of Simon, his birthday party is going to be fabulous. I got this local band to play-they specialize in big-band music from the forties. I think Simon and his friends will love it.”
“I’m sure they will,” he said, smiling as she went on about the party. This was the right move to make, he told himself. The two of them were good together. She loved his grandfather. She was already a part of this town.
And while his mind was racing, he thought about Gretchen briefly and wondered why in the hell he’d ever even broached the subject of marriage to her. She would never have fit in here, never have wanted to. Springville was too small, too ordinary, too off-the-beaten-track. Gretchen would have hated this place, while Margie clearly thrived in it.
Yeah. He was doing the right thing.
“And the caterer is going to work with Simon’s cook, so everything will be perfect,” she said.
“Good.”
“Are you okay?” she asked, and the washcloth slowed a bit as she asked the question.
“I am.”
He walked into the bathroom, sat down on the edge of the tub and stared down at her. The scent of jasmine was so thick in the air that he drew it into his lungs with every breath, as if she were surrounding him. Her skin was rosy-pink from the hot water, and her lush, dark red curls were wet at the ends. Her lips were full and parted as though she were inviting a kiss, and he was too damn tempted to lean in and give her just what she wanted. But first he had to tell her about the decision he’d made.
Silently, he congratulated himself on finding the perfect solution for all of them and wondered why it had taken so long for him to consider it. Stubborn, like Simon said, he guessed. Didn’t matter, though. He saw things clearly now, and he was sure Margie would agree. Why wouldn’t she? It was a win-win for both of them.
“Who’s Gretchen?” she asked.
“What?” That question threw everything else out of his head.
“I heard you and your friends talking about her when they were here,” she said with a shrug that dissipated a few more strategically placed bubbles. “One of them mentioned you and Gretchen.”