Stalk the Moon by Jessica Lynch

Author:Jessica Lynch [Lynch, Jessica]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Curse the Flame
Published: 2018-09-07T05:00:00+00:00

22

I don’t dream. Thank friggin’ God.

Even better? When I drag myself out of the tent, Hunter is sizzling bacon in a pan over the campfire.

I’m not an idiot. I know it’s a peace offering. He’s probably thinking that it worked yesterday morning. I don’t blame him for sticking with what works.

My stomach grumbles. That settles that. Even if I was stubborn enough to refuse it, I won’t. I’m so hungry, I’m willing to accept the bacon for what it is.

Flexing my fingers, rolling my head on my neck, I take stock of how I feel. My headache is gone. My appetite is back with a vengeance. As for that strange fatigue, I’ve got to admit, I’m doing okay. Hunter was right when he told me that I’d be all better today. Nothing hurts and my strength has returned, too.

All in all, I’m in a far more forgiving mood as I approach Hunter at the fire. The scent of sizzling bacon in the air makes my mouth water. And that’s not at all.

I try to tell myself it’s not the sight of Hunter crouched down by the fire, tending to the pan, turning the bacon with the flat of his knife. Colossal failure. Why does he have to be so damn sexy? It makes it so much harder to stay mad at him.

My shadow falls in front of him. He lifts his head.

His expression is guarded. “Mornin’.”

“Bacon almost done?”

“Uh, yeah. I can serve you some now.”

“Sounds great.”

Reaching for the two metal plates he has set aside, he motions for me to take a seat beside him. I think about it for a second. Bacon’s gone a long way in me being civil. Sitting down next to him, though? That’s pushing it.

I wait until Hunter’s divvied up the cooked bacon—pretending not notice he gave me twice as much as his portion again—and then purposely move to the other side of the campfire. I decide to stay standing. I kind of like towering over Hunter.

Hunter looks disappointed, but he doesn’t say a word.

I watch him as I eat. He plays with his bacon, picking up a slice and putting it back down. He keeps his eyes on his plate, like he’s afraid to catch my gaze. I catch him peeking over at me a couple of times.

It hits me after a while. The bacon, the gentlemanly attitude, the leery way he sneaks a look my way. That’s guilt all right. He’s practically swimming in it.

Alex’s voice pops in my head, reminding me about using Hunter’s guilt to my advantage. I know from experience what a powerful motivator guilt can be. When I was a kid, I used it against my mom all the time.

Question is: will it work on Hunter?

Only one way to find out.

“You know,” I begin, purposely adopting a conversational tone, “it’s kinda quiet. No one’s actively trying to kill you or me at the moment. Why don’t you tell me about this place?” I crunch one of my last pieces of bacon with more force than I need to.

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