of using them. In the end, she chose not to. “I probably shouldn’t be talking with you guys about this.” Her gaze drifted over to Kristen, the green-eyed blonde who was also the aunt of the triplets, babies who had been in the custody of the Brewster brothers since the death of their father and Kristen’s sister, the babies’ parents. “Especially you,” she said to Kristen. “After all, your husband is Hunter’s partner. I wouldn’t want to say anything to cause trouble or hard feelings.”
“Well, you just hush up, now,” Kristen said, her Texas accent obvious in the hills of central Pennsylvania. “Hunter may be Grant’s partner, but you’re my friend. And where I come from friends take care of friends.”
“Thanks, but I don’t think anybody can take care of this.”
Claire frowned. “Frankly, I don’t see what the problem is. For seven years you’ve been waiting for Hunter to ride back into town and take you away from all this,” she said, waving her hand to indicate the aging diner. Cody, the triplet for whom she and Evan took responsibility, patted her cheeks as she spoke. “If you ask me, everything will be fine after a few weeks of the two of you getting reacquainted.”
Abby shook her head. “Reacquainted” didn’t quite fit the bill of what was happening between them. While Abby remembered a bright, wonderful man full of promise, the Hunter Wyman who had returned was quiet and brooding. And bossy. They couldn’t even have a reasonable discussion about Tyler. Getting “reacquainted” was completely out of the picture. “I don’t think so,” she said.
“Why?” Claire demanded. “Has he suddenly grown a second nose?”
“No,” Abby said, heat suffusing her when she brought up Hunter’s image in her mind. His looks were the very last of his problems. If anything, age had made him even more gorgeous. “He hasn’t lost one ounce of his attractiveness.”
“Oh, look at you,” Lily said with a laugh. “You’re blushing.”
“She’s always adored Hunter Wyman,” Claire told Lily as if speaking a confidence, but she didn’t bother to lower her voice. “He was the older man in her life. The rebel.”
Both Lily and Kristen sighed with delight, but the observation made Abby frown. “Maybe that’s it.”
“What?” Kristen asked.
“Maybe I don’t like him because he’s not a rebel anymore.”
Claire gave her friend a confused look. “You don’t like him because he’s not a borderline criminal?”
“No, that’s not quite it.” Abby pulled her lower lip between her teeth as she tried to draw her conclusion. “I think I don’t know how to deal with him because he’s not a rebel. Seven years ago, if Hunter would have decided he wanted Tyler, he probably would have kidnapped him.”
All three of the women gasped. Abby shook her head furiously. “I wouldn’t have let it happen,” she insisted. “But the point is, back then I knew how to handle Hunter. I knew him so well I could have kept him from doing something rash and foolish. I don’t have a clue how to handle the man he is now.”
“I still say you’re worrying over nothing. This is a chance for you to reunite with your one true love,” Claire said dreamily. “So, things aren’t going exactly as planned. Give it a chance. It will all work out.”
“My one true love was passionate and wonderful,” Abby said dully. “This guy isn’t. This Hunter might be handsome and sexy, but the passion is gone. In some ways he behaves as if he thinks passion is wrong. Or as if he believes passion is the ‘bad’ trait that held him down in Brewster County.”
“Or,” Kristen proposed, “because Grant is the passionate partner, maybe Hunter thinks he’s the one who has to be in control. Maybe all he needs is a little time or a little push to loosen up.”
“So what are you going to do?” Lily asked.
“I have no choice but to let Hunter see Tyler,” Abby said. “He’s coming over tonight after dinner.”
“Maybe you should try to be a little seductive and refresh his memory about what you shared,” Claire suggested, waggling her eyebrows.
Abby blushed furiously. “Not on your life.” She might have done that under other circumstances, but she was afraid to now. For all she knew, this Hunter might scold her if she flirted with him.
“What was it you loved about him, sugar?” Kristen asked suddenly.
Though anybody reading her thoughts of the morning would have said the way he made love to her, Abby knew that wasn’t true. “He was honest,” she admitted quietly, because in her life there had not been enough honesty. Poor as Hunter had been, lonely as he had been, he didn’t know any way to behave but with honesty and simplicity. Being with him, loving him, was the easiest thing Abby had ever done. “And direct and genuine.”
“Okay,” Claire said, sounding relieved. “Those things don’t change. Now if you had said his looks, we’d all think you were crazy because looks can fade. But honesty doesn’t fade. Neither does forthrightness. He’s still the same guy, Abby. You only need to bring out the best in him.”
Just the thought that he was the same man filled Abby with yearning. Not simply sexual, but emotional. In that second, she realized how much she missed him, but more than that she understood that she had never stopped loving him. If there was a chance, even a teeny, tiny chance, she could bring out the simple, honest man in him again, Abby knew she had to try.
Dressing that evening, after rushing Tyler through dinner, Abby also reprimanded herself for being impatient. She couldn’t believe she had jumped to the conclusion that Hunter had drastically changed merely on the basis of two short meetings. Good Lord, seven years had passed. Many, many things stood between them. Of course, he wouldn’t act like her best friend the first time he saw her after a long separation. And he certainly wouldn’t behave like a lover.
Confident, composed, Abby jogged down the steps when she heard the front doorbell ring. Though she hadn’t exactly dressed up, she hadn’t worn jeans and a T-shirt, either, as was her usual practice. Instead, she had exchanged the jeans for a short, flared skirt and the T-shirt for a soft mint-green sleeveless sweater. She wasn’t a woman who believed in high heels, but she did have chunky-heeled mahogany sandals that more or less suited the outfit.
Reminding herself that her friends were right and she shouldn’t judge Hunter too harshly or too quickly, Abby pasted on a smile and opened her front door. When she saw him, her jaw fell.
He wore charcoal gray slacks and a black turtleneck sweater that not only made him look wealthy and sophisticated, but also made her short skirt and sandals seem totally inappropriate. She felt poor and humble and something like the beleaguered heroine of Cinderella, instead of the lonely, ivory-tower princess she used to be.
“Hello, Hunter,” she said gaily, though inside she was dying. “I’m afraid I’m a little behind schedule, and I haven’t had a chance to dress yet,” she said, adding the lie because she refused to be in the submissive position with him again. Surely she had something in her closet that could give his charcoal gray slacks a run for their money. “So, I’ll just run upstairs and—”
He caught her hand and kept her from turning to the steps. “You look fine,” he said quietly, then almost groaned. Had he said “fine”?
