Chapter 32

I walked out into the dining room and saw Hunter sitting at a table. He was looking at his phone with a deep frown on his face. What he was doing looked important and as I didn’t want to disturb him, I stood back and let him work. It didn’t take more than a minute before he looked up and saw me. His frown turned into a smile that caused butterflies to erupt in my stomach. I reminded myself once more that a man like him had no romantic interest in me and walked over to him.

“All done?” he asked as he stood up.

“Yes. Thank you for waiting. I can wait if there is something you need to finish,” I offered.

“It’s not something that is on a deadline, it can keep until tomorrow,” he said.

“Hey, are you just going to take her home idiot?” Chef called from the door to the kitchen.

“That was the plan,” Hunter answered. I could tell he was irritated.

“I’m surrounded by boys who don’t know fuckwhat about anything,” Chef grumbled as he turned around and walked into the kitchen. “And don’t think about leaving,” he called out to us. I looked at Hunter and he shrugged.

“It’s best to do as he wants when he’s like this. Do you mind staying a little longer?” he asked.

“No. I just have a date with my couch when I get home,” I told him, and he pulled out a chair for me. We sat down and had just got the conversation going when Chef came out with two steaming bowls. He placed them down in front of us and I was looking down at a big bowl full of noodle soup.

“Pho, it’s hot so go easy,” he told me.

“Thank you, it smells amazing.”

“You fucking make sure she eats before you drop her off at home. When you keep her out over dinner, you feed her you fuckin idiot. I’m going home, the kitchen is clean, as if you would notice if it wasn’t,” Chef then told Hunter and walked away. I followed him with my eyes as he left, stunned at his scolding.

“He is right, I should have made sure you had something to eat,” Hunter said. I shifted my focus to him.

“Why?” It was the first thing that formed in my mind.

“Why what?” he asked.

“Why would you make sure I eat? I can cook, I have food,” I said. The idea was foreign to me.

“Because I asked you to come here, and it makes it my responsibility that you haven’t been able to have dinner. And it’s not a heavy responsibility, I always enjoy when we have dinner together,” he explained. As if I wasn’t confused already.

“I enjoy it as well,” I said and picked up the chopsticks Chef had provided and got started on the noodles and vegetables. It gave me a reason not to talk and try to get my thoughts under control. “This is mind-blowingly good,” I finally said.

“It’s irritating how good he is,” Hunter agreed.

“You are good friends.” Hunter chuckled at my observation.

“We are. We met during one of my first deployments. Jason, Chef and I were in the same units for years, it’s hard to explain the bond. I could kill him most of the times, but I trust him explicitly,” he said. I nodded.

“He’s your brother. It’s important to have people like that in your life. I have Wictor. We are both family and friends,” I told him.

“No other family?” he asked.

“No. After my parent’s died I only had my grandfather on my dad’s side of the family. But he was old and hadn’t a clue how to raise a girl he said. That’s how I ended up in foster care.”

“Did you keep in contact with him?” Hunter asked, he was studying me. Probably to make sure I wouldn’t fall apart.

“I did. For years he arranged to meet with me at least twice a year and we used to talk on the phone once a month or so.”

“That had to be nice,” Hunter commented. I shrugged, my feelings towards my grandfather were complicated. “Did he do something?” Hunter asked when he saw my reaction. He reached out and took my hand.

“When I was eleven I stayed with a really nice couple. They were one of the good families that saw me as family and not as a pay check. After I had been living with them for six months they asked me if I would be okay if they adopted me. I got really excited because I liked them and it would offer me a security that I craved, even if I didn’t know how to put it into words at that time. But my grandfather found out and stopped the adoption,” I explained.

“What? But why?” Hunter asked. I shrugged again.

“He didn’t want his blood relative to belong to a family that wasn’t his.”

“That makes no sense, if he felt he couldn’t care for you, he should have been grateful that someone else could give you the stability,” Hunter said. He sounded upset. “What happened with the family?”

“At first nothing changed, we were sad about the adoption, but they were still amazing. But as time went by, Margaret, the wife, had a hard time coping with the fact I could be taken away from them at any moment. I think the situation was made worse by my grandfather denying the adoption. It made her think he would just one day come and collect me. Just before I turned twelve they sat me down and explained that even though they loved me, they couldn’t let me stay,” I told him.

“I’m sorry,” Hunter said.

“It’s okay. Things happen sometimes.”

“And your grandfather?”

“He passed away from a heart attack about seven months later. When I was younger, I used to wonder what would have happened if Margaret and Jimmy could have held out a year longer. Then maybe they could have adopted me. But I learned that those kind of thoughts aren’t really healthy for you. I’m sorry, I have really dampened the mood,” I apologised.

“Don’t. I would like to think we have got to know each other well enough that we can talk about things beyond what is fun and light,” Hunter said. Looking back at the topics we had covered, I couldn’t disagree. I tried my best to smile and nodded. We finished eating and Hunter insisted to wash the dishes while I kept him company. When he was driving me home I was happy, it had been a good day despite the unexpected visit. I even felt like Hunter wouldn’t forget about me and help the mother to his grandchild instead. As usual, Hunter insisted on walking me to my door.

“Hana, I have been meaning to ask you something but I seem to have put it off to the last minute,” he said as I took out my keys. I turned towards him and to my surprise, he looked nervous. He was scratching his salt and pepper beard and was rocking on his heals.

“Okay,” I said to get him going. I was becoming equally nervous.

“I feel like a teenager all over again,” he murmured before taking a deep breath. “I have enjoyed spending time with you these past weeks. Even though the circumstances maybe weren’t the best around how we met, I ‘m happy we did. I was wondering if you would like to have dinner with me on Saturday?” he asked. I didn’t expect him to ask that. Hunter was asking me out on a date? I could spend days with sorting through my feeling about that. But he was waiting on a reply. I went with my gut, when it came to Hunter, it had served me good this far.

“I would love to,” I said. He stopped moving and looked as surprised as I felt.

“Really?”

“Yes. I have enjoyed spending time with you as well,” I told him. He fired off a big smile at me.

“Good, great. I’ll call or text to tell you when I’m picking you up and where we are going. Is that okay?”

“Sure. Just give me a couple of hours so I can get ready,” I agreed. There was a moment when we both looked at each other without saying anything and I half expected him to walk up to me and give me a kiss. But instead, we ended up saying goodbye and I unlocked my door. Just as I was about to close it behind me, Hunter called out to me. “Yes?” I asked and opened it a little wider to look at him.

“Just to avoid any misunderstandings, you did get that I was asking you out on a date and not just dinner as friends, right?” he asked. I giggled.

“Yes, Hunter. I got that. But thank you for making sure.”

“Good, great. Then I won’t keep you. Have a nice evening, sweetness,” he said, and I could swear there was a blush creeping up under his beard.

“You too, Hunter. Drive safe.”