Love Out of Focus Read online

  “What’s she doing?” Mal asked, feeling impish.

  “You tell me.”

  Mal fought the urge to bite her lip as the tables were suddenly turned on her. Yet again, she felt her face and neck heat. “She … she wanted me to drive you crazy. In a good way.”

  Something in Hunter’s eyes caught fire, and his smile turned smoldering. “Mission accomplished. In the best way.”

  She grinned and tilted her head. “Thanks. Shall we go?”

  “I think I’m the one who needs to say thanks,” Hunter muttered as she took her handbag and exited the house. “But yeah, let’s go.”

  They drove down to the pavilion, and Mal was enchanted by the changes they’d made for the evening. The entire pavilion was now hung with basic light bulbs that created the perfect aura for the place and fit in well with the music coming from the band on risers, who had multicolored lights around their backdrop. And they were good—not in an amateurish way, but a real could-be-recording-artists way. She said as much to Hunter as they approached, and he shrugged with a smile.

  “We attract all sorts here,” he said in an offhand way. “Just wait till you hear their vocalists.”

  He squeezed her hand and smiled. Mal felt his excitement and matched it with her own.

  Most of the people there were old, but not all of them, and they all seemed to know each other. When Hunter and Mal entered the pavilion, everyone called out to Hunter in excitement, and he grinned openly and waved to a few of them.

  Mal watched with fascination as he greeted every single one of them by name, asked after kids or other acquaintances, and held light, joking conversations with back slaps and high fives.

  He was an entirely new person.

  But somehow, it was still him.

  This was the version of him that Mal had come to know in their private moments—this easy, warm man with no airs or distance. His quick smile and quicker laugh were a hit, and he was truly adored by his guests.

  And he wasn’t leaving her out of it.

  He introduced her to everyone he talked to, holding her hand or wrapping an arm around her waist, keeping her close and leaving no doubt in anyone’s mind, least of all hers, as to where his head was. She earned herself some gentle ribbing from some of the older men, and they were ecstatic when she played along.

  Hunter disappeared for a moment when someone needed to discuss a problem at their rented house, and Mal found herself leaning on the railing of the pavilion, looking out at the lake under the light of the moon. It was one of the most surreal moments of the trip, with the band playing smooth, emotional jazz behind her.

  Could anything on earth be more perfect than this?

  “Darlin’, gimme five minutes to get my car, and I’ll take you away from here,” rasped an older voice near her.

  She turned with a raised brow to the old man now leaning beside her, his smoking jacket, no doubt once well fitted, hanging on him like a sack. But his eyes twinkled, and the hint of cigar on his breath reminded her of her grandfather.

  “Where’ll we go?” she asked, leaning closer.

  He wheezed a laugh and gave her a wink. “Saucy girl. I like you.”

  “Arlo, leave the girl alone, will ya?” cawed another male voice. “Honestly, your wife is right over there; show some respect.”

  Arlo gave the newcomer a look. “Don’t get involved, Richie. You haven’t had a broad since the seventies. You wouldn’t know what to do.”

  “You can’t call them broads anymore,” Richie scolded as he came to Mal’s other side. “It’s disrespectful.” He shook his head and looked at Mal. “I apologize for my friend’s rudeness, miss. His wife doesn’t let him out much.”

  Mal grinned, looking between the two of them. “How long have you two known each other?”

  Arlo chuckled and looked at the taller man for a moment. “Fifty years?”

  “Near enough,” Richie said with a nod, folding his long arms over his sweater vest. “My Ann and his wife were girlfriends from school, and we all met here by accident one year. After that, the girls did almost everything together, so Arlo and I had to get along—or else.” He made a slashing motion across his throat.

  “It wasn’t that bad,” Arlo assured her with a smile. “Ann was too soft hearted to threaten anything in the world.”

  Richie smiled and sighed. “Yeah, she was one of a kind, my girl. And she could dance like an angel.” He looked at Mal with a flick of one furry brow. “Can you dance?”

  “Only with me,” Hunter said as he appeared as if by magic. He clamped a hand on Richie’s shoulder, smiling. “You should know better, Richie. You want to dance with a pretty girl? I think Mrs. Howard could use a dance.”

  “Judith?” Richie said with interest, looking across the dance floor. He suddenly straightened his bow tie. “Excuse me.”

  That drew chuckles from the rest of them, and as a new song started up, Arlo patted Hunter on the back. “Enjoy your dance, Hunter. Hang on to this one, eh?”

  Hunter smiled and met Mal’s eyes. “I intend to.”

  She had to swallow hard as Hunter slowly pulled her onto the dance floor and into his arms. The soft strains of “As Time Goes By” floated on the breeze, the piano and saxophone playing off each other in flirtation.

  “Are you having fun?” he asked as they slowly moved to the music.

  She nodded, smiling at him. “The music is amazing. Honestly, this is the best I’ve felt all week.”

  Her answer pleased him, she could tell, and he pulled her closer. “I’m glad.”

  “You know everyone here,” she commented softly, smiling as Arlo led his cute wife onto the dance floor.

  Hunter nodded, humming in agreement. “I make it a point to. Grandpa did that, Dad did that, and it’s become the trademark. But I like doing it. People trust a place with owners and managers they can put a face to.” He turned his head so his mouth was close to her ear. “But then you get guys like Arlo and Richie thinking they can make moves on my girl, and I have to remind them who’s boss.”

  Mal half giggled while goose bumps raced across her skin. “Yeah,” she murmured. “I was this close to running off with them.”

  Hunter chuckled. “I knew it.” His hand on her back tightened, and he touched his head to hers, slowly dancing with her in this perfect place, with this perfect feeling between them.

  And then, very softly, so low she wasn’t sure she heard it at first, she heard him sing, “Moonlight and love song, never out of date … Hearts full of passion, jealousy and hate …”

  “You don’t sing,” she whispered, her words as shaky as her breath.

  “I never said that,” he replied, and continued to sing along in her ear.

  Mal swallowed hard and slid her hand to the back of his neck, resting her face against his shoulder. He serenaded her softly, just for her ears, and his voice was velvety smooth, sensual, perfect. He could sing, however unexpected it was, and she might be the only person who knew it.

  There were no words for that either.

  But here, dancing in his arms, his lips at her ear, words weren’t important.

  Hunter couldn’t take his eyes off Mal, and it was obvious. He’d been teased about it all night, residents and visitors alike seeing how taken he was with her. He didn’t mind. He could shrug it off and laugh about it because he knew very well it was true.

  She was an absolute vision tonight, and he would always remember the way she looked here, the way she felt in his arms, and how right it felt. He was going to have to tell her at some point. Tonight. There was no possible way he could hide it anymore, especially not when it must be obvious.

  They took a breather after “As Time Goes By,” and he drifted off to collect his bearings, speaking with the bartender and the manager, making sure things would be cleaned up and ready for the wedding reception the next day—anything to take his mind off the breathtaking woman who had stolen his heart.

  It was productive, but it didn’t work. Mostly beca
use he never stopped looking at her. And she looked at him just as much.

  A peppy number ended to applause, and the lead vocalist took the microphone again. “Ladies and gents, we’re going to slow it down again. This is one of our last numbers of the night and one of our favorites: ‘It Never Entered My Mind.’”

  The piano started in slowly, then the cymbals joined in, and when the trumpet began its soulful notes, Hunter found himself moving in Mal’s direction, unable to stop himself.

  She saw him coming, and he saw her throat work, then she came to him on her own. Without a word, she put her hand in his, wrapped the other around him, and laid her head on his shoulder. Slowly, they began to sway, and it felt as if they were the only people in the world, let alone on the dance floor.

  All he could feel was Mal’s hand in his, her arm around his neck, her body brushing against his. It was enough to drive a man insane, but despite that, he was comfortable. It felt natural to hold her like this, to move like this with her in his arms. He leaned his head on hers, eyes closed, and moved with the music, unaware of anyone or anything else.

  Their bodies moved as one. He was leading, he supposed, but only in the loosest sense of the word. He could dance, had learned how years ago, but this was something else—something other than skill. Dancing with Mal wasn’t like dancing had ever been. It went beyond the physical and he couldn’t describe it.

  His heart pounded in his chest as emotion flooded him. His head swam, yet his thoughts were perfectly clear. His arms ached but had never felt so strong. His lungs seemed to expand with a newfound vigor, yet somehow he never drew a full breath. Each fingertip tingled, and every brush of Mal’s hair against his skin sent ripples coursing through him. With the music drawing on his emotions and this woman in his arms, it was all too much.

  But it was all so right.

  Suddenly, he wanted to be away from here. He wanted Mal to himself without any distractions. Just the two of them together.

  “Let’s get out of here,” he whispered.

  Almost sleepily, Mal nodded against him, and she let him lead her out of the pavilion, their fingers entwined. They walked down the stone steps to the beach, pausing only for Mal to remove her shoes, which she held in her other hand. They didn’t speak for a while, just walking and letting what was passing between them flow. He simply wanted to be with her.

  “I want to put my feet in the water,” Mal suddenly said, her tone playful.

  Hunter reluctantly let her fingers slide from his and grinned as she waded out ankle deep. “That’s what you did the morning of the first sunrise shoot,” he reflected.

  She laughed and tossed him a grin. “Yep! What can I say? I love walking in the water.”

  “I fell in love with you that morning.”

  Mal jerked, the water splashing loudly against her calves, and stared at him wide eyed. “What?” she half cried, half whispered.

  He cleared his throat. He probably shouldn’t have said it so bluntly, but it just came out that way. “I fell in love with you,” he repeated. He offered a small unapologetic shrug, smiling warmly and watching her.

  She was frozen as she stood the water, watching him. Waiting.

  “I’m in love with you,” he said simply. “I’ve been in love with you this whole time. I haven’t said anything because I know how crazy it is, and I was afraid it was all one sided, and I couldn’t risk you running off when I feel this way, and—”

  “It’s not one sided.”

  His heart and his words and his breath all stopped at once. He stared at her, something intense burning within him.

  Mal shook her head, swallowing. “It’s not one sided,” she said again, quieter.

  Before he knew what he was doing, he marched into the water, reached for her face, and kissed her hard. Her arms twined around his neck, her lips parting, returning his kiss with a fire of her own. She clung to him, as desperate and frantic as he was, her feet no longer touching the ground as he held her.

  He couldn’t feel enough, couldn’t breathe enough. Everything was completely occupied with Mal, with loving her, with the heady rush of delight in knowing that she matched the insanity of his feelings. They kissed deeply, tasting each other as if for the first and last time, again and again, as if it would never be enough.

  It would never be enough.

  Then their kisses became softer, tenderer, searching and comforting and soothing. Grazing lips, settling and unsettling all at once. Hunter shifted to capture her lips fiercely, drawing a ragged whimper from her that made something primal growl within him.

  After a few breathless moments, they heard whistles, applause, and catcalls from their older friends at the pavilion, who seemed to have a perfect view of them.

  Mal broke off gently, laughing low and sending his blood racing. He managed to laugh too, still breathless and on fire. He touched his forehead to hers, wrapping his arms around her tightly with a long-overdue sigh of relief.

  The noise from the pavilion faded, and Mal suddenly pulled back with a groan.

  “What?” he asked in surprise, keeping his arms locked around her.

  “I have to go back to the Hen House tonight,” she moaned, making a face. “And you have to go to stag night.”

  He’d forgotten all about that, which showed how important it was. He shook his head. “I don’t care. I’m staying right here with you.”

  He leaned in and kissed her again, gentling his touch and doing his best to tempt her into staying. She curled a hand around his neck, toying with his hair, and he wondered who was doing the tempting now.

  She eventually forced herself away from him, stepping out of his hold, and letting the night breeze come between them. “You have to,” she scolded, sounding winded much to his delight. “And I have to. If it were anybody else, I wouldn’t care, but it’s Tom and Jenna. We have to,” she repeated firmly.

  And he knew she was right. He put his hands on his hips and calmed his breathing, giving her a crooked smile. “You are going to drive me crazy, you know that?”

  She tilted her head impishly. “In a good way?”

  “The best,” he assured her.

  She gave him a curtsy and smiled, holding out her hand. “Walk me back?”

  His grin spread, and he took her hand, kissed it, then tugged her against him for one brief, searing kiss. “Fine,” he growled, chuckling when she came away panting. “But if I’m grumpy tomorrow, I’m blaming you.”

  Mal shuddered and released a tiny moan, making him laugh again. He intertwined their fingers again, and they slowly walked out of the water and toward the Hen House.

  Chapter 15

  She was going to be late to the breakfast, but she couldn’t be mad about that. Technically, it didn’t start until nine, and it was only ten till. But considering she was the photographer, she should have been there way before now to take pictures of the spread and everything else. Hopefully, Taryn and Dan were on top of things and had started already.

  It wasn’t her fault she would be late either.

  She’d been forced to regale Caroline with her stories last night, every nitty-gritty detail, and they’d stayed up too late, talking like teenagers. Then this morning, she’d woken up early and gone for a stroll along the beach, no camera, just her in her rolled-up jeans, barefoot in the water again, arms folded over her flapping flannel. She’d enjoyed the serenity of the brilliant morning while echoes of the night before played in her head.

  Hunter loved her. Was that even possible? They were worlds apart, and yet in this magical place, they’d become closer than she’d ever been with anyone, including some family members. He’d taught her to dream things and open her eyes for a better look at herself.

  She loved who she was with him.

  Wasn’t that the whole idea of love?

  She hadn’t told him she loved him, technically. She’d have to do that at some point when the time was right. She did love him, there was no question, and surely he had to know, considering she’
d told him his feelings weren’t one sided.

  But as Caroline put it last night, nothing in love is certain.

  She’d gone back to the house after her walk, but something had caught her attention: Jenna sneaking out the back patio door, hair down, in a simple T-shirt and yoga pants, grinning at something Mal couldn’t see. She’d moved for a better look just as Jenna dashed off the patio to Tom, who caught her in his arms, holding her tightly, her feet dangling.

  He’d held her for a moment, then slowly let her down. They’d cupped each other’s faces, talking softly, both grinning like mad fools. Mal had been too far away to hear them, and she was glad for that. It was their wedding day; they deserved a moment of privacy. She’d waited until they had disengaged themselves after a few quick kisses and Jenna had gone back into the house before doing so herself.

  Caroline instantly attacked her, forcing her to get in the shower before setting to work on her hair. Between sessions of drying and product and curling, Caroline pulled out the dress Mal would wear to breakfast so Mal could get changed. It was a formal occasion, so she’d decided on a designer dress—Alexander McQueen to be precise. It was a fitted cream dress with an ivory Celtic-lace overlay, cap sleeves, and a pencil skirt that would fall below her knees. Best of all, it was a knit dress, so it would hug her minimal curves. Mal balked at the idea of wearing something bridal looking, but once Caroline assured her that Jenna was wearing mint, it wasn’t an issue.

  When Mal tried to suggest it was too much, Caroline shushed her and said it was at least four years off the runway, so it wasn’t even the hot thing anymore. As long as it wasn’t trendsetting, Mal could deal with it. Thankfully, she’d been permitted sensible T-strap pumps, which meant at least her feet would be steady, if nothing else was.

  Caroline had done a perfect job with her makeup again, with a natural yet elegant look that had Mal shaking her head. The hair, on the other hand, would take some getting used to. She’d gone for blowout curls, and it had been mountainous at first. But once Caroline calmed it down, it wasn’t half bad. It just took forever.