He stiffened, but didn’t move away.
She took that as an encouraging sign and continued to adjust his tie. Then she smoothed a hand down the front of it, noting the hard muscle underneath. “All better.”
Hunter’s attention was definitely on her now, and she noticed the look in his eyes was hungry. It emboldened her and made her think of her outrageous idea from earlier.
“Hunter?”
“Hmm?” He seemed distracted, almost dazed.
She reached for the loose collar of her robe and pulled it open. Stepping back, she flashed him her br**sts.
He stared, frozen in place.
“Now we’re even,” she told him lightly. “The field is leveled. Enjoy your meeting tonight.”
And she closed her robe and sauntered back into her room, grinning the entire time.
Chapter 6
One week later
The trouble with a flirt battle was that both parties had to actively participate. Both parties had to know how to actually flirt.
And Gretchen had been flirting her head off, but she was getting nowhere fast.
It wasn’t that Hunter wasn’t interested. If anything, he seemed more interested than ever. But when she teased, he froze up. When she coyly suggested things, he shut down.
When she’d made him dinner, he’d stared at her in silence, and her attempts at conversation had fallen completely flat. Her pleasure at showing him her cooking had been deflated by the fact that he’d looked as if he’d wanted to escape the room.
And yet . . . she continued to get roses every day. Delicate, scented blooms that were thoughtfully selected for her, along with a note inviting her to dinner. She’d declined it once or twice, just to see how he’d react.
He hadn’t reacted at all. And that had been even more frustrating.
She’d tried being sexy. In fact, she’d offered to help him in the greenhouse one day and had unbuttoned her shirt, declaring herself overheated and exposing a lot of skin. All she’d gotten was an abrupt suggestion that she take a shower and him turning away.
Not exactly the reaction she’d wanted. She was utterly mystified. How could she break through to him? She supposed she could state it baldly. I’d really like it if you and I did a little mutual exploring. I’ll even go first.
But she was enjoying the challenge. And screaming out that she desired him seemed almost like a cop out. Plus, he’d probably run for the hills.
Virgins were so much trouble.
The letters weren’t helping things, either. Now that things had escalated between Lula and Benedict, they weren’t holding back at all. Letter after letter went into great detail of what Lula would do to Benedict with her mouth, and how she’d please him. He’d write pages back to her, describing how he’d like to lay her down under the trees, spread her petals wide, and lick her nectar clean. By the time she finished a day of the letters, Gretchen was squirming and overheated, her imagination on fire. She kept picturing Hunter as Benedict, and herself as Lula. Each graphic description left her breathing hard and her panties wet.
There had to be a way to get through to Hunter.
***
It was during one of their frequent dinners that Gretchen found a chink in Hunter’s icy armor.
Her phone rang while they were in the midst of a quiet conversation. Surprised, Gretchen picked up her phone and gave an apologetic look to Hunter. “I should take this.”
She rarely got calls out of the blue, so any sort of call concerned her. Especially if it was coming from Cooper’s Cuppa.
“Hello?”
“Gretch? It’s me.”
She glanced down the table at Hunter, who seemed to be staring at a painting on the wall and trying very hard not to listen in on her phone conversation. “Hey Coop. What’s up?”
“I was calling to, well, check on you. See how you’re doing.”
“Oh, I’m fine,” she said brightly. “The project’s coming along really well. I might even finish early.”
Hunter accidentally sent his knife skidding, the silverware clanking.
“That’s great news,” Cooper said enthusiastically. “I’ve really missed seeing you.”
“I’ve missed seeing you, too.” She watched as Hunter picked up his knife and gripped it, his knuckles white. “It’s weird being away from everyone,” she added to defuse the statement and make it friendly instead of romantic.
“When you come back, I . . . I think I’d like for us to have a nice talk.”
Her mouth went dry and Gretchen panicked. “Oh, Coop. I just . . . I don’t know. Can’t we just let things go as they do?” Her gaze slid back to Hunter, who was still staring at the painting. “Can I call you back some other time? Now’s really not great.”
“Oh, of course. I just . . . you know. Wanted to tell you that I missed you. That’s all.” His sad puppy voice grated on her nerves.
“I’ll see you when I get back,” she said, and hung up. Picking up her napkin, she folded it in her lap again. “Sorry about that.”
“Boyfriend?” he asked, and the word was almost a growl.
Gretchen’s eyes widened. That was . . . interesting. It was almost a reaction. Should she push harder or lay off? She decided to push a little harder. “A male friend. He misses me.”
“Then perhaps it’s a good thing that you’re finishing early,” he said abruptly. He stood, tossing his napkin to the table. “I won’t keep you from your work any longer.”
“Oh, but—”
Hunter turned and stalked out.
Gretchen sighed heavily. Good Lord, but the man was prickly. She sat at the table a moment longer, toying with the casserole on her plate. She didn’t want to leave things like that. Didn’t want Hunter spending the evening all annoyed and frustrated. She’d had her share of frustrated evenings herself lately.
Tossing her napkin down on the table next to his, she stood up and pocketed her phone, determined to find Hunter and talk to him.
She headed to his wing of the house first, but all the doors were shut, and no one responded to her knocking. He was either not there, or simply not answering. Before she’d give up, she’d try one more place.
Hugging her sweater close, Gretchen headed down the long walk to the greenhouse. There was a light inside, and one of the doors was eased open just a crack. Curious and a bit nosy despite herself, she moved forward and peered through the crack.