Hunter watched her flow through the room, as always, careful to keep her in the line of his periphery. A skill he'd mastered years ago when he wanted to check her out in a way that was subtle and discreet. She'd lingered at the base of the stairs for a moment, even looked back, at which point he had to advert even his peripheral gaze for the sake of avoiding detection. She hadn't seen him yet, and he wasn't quite ready to be spotted, not before he'd had a moment to get a good, long look at her.

She was beautiful, he thought with a dreamy buzz that had nothing to do with the beer he'd just guzzled swirling around in his head. So beautiful he'd felt like he'd been punched in the gut that moment she'd poked her head in through the room.

And as he'd discovered that unexpected morning outside of Studio West, three years of distance and separation hadn't affected him in the slightest; he was every bit as desperately in love with her as he had been since the age of seventeen.

Closing his eyes, the memory returned to him clear and bright as morning sunlight of that fateful summer, in the middle of a scorching July. The day he'd first caught sight of her at the public pool, slender in a pale blue bikini with red cherries, wringing out her mane of golden curls and a pair of mermaid eyes that knocked the breath from his lungs.

And when she'd smiled—laughed, it was over. She'd stolen his heart before he'd even knew her name.

Lynn worked through the party, pausing for a chat with a few of his relatives, relatives she'd grown up with, too, as she'd been a part of his life and his home for the last twelve years. And they all loved and adored her, as well. Hard not too, Hunter mused. She had a way with people, and whenever invited to the Mercer family home, Lynn was quick to leap in, roll up her sleeves and get to work. Not because she was asked, or that she felt it was expected, but because she wanted to.

That was Lynn, he thought. Always willing to step in and lend a hand, be it in the kitchen prepping the food, or downstairs playing hostess, clearing empties, checking to see everyone was happy and comfortable, like she was now.

Pulling his eyes from the television screen, keeping his fingers flying on the control keys, he watched as she stopped to ooh and awe over baby Stephanie, lifting her from Nancy's arms to wing her in laughing circles.

She looked good with a kid on her hip. The maternal kick came to her naturally. Always had. He could see her with a couple rug rats of her own. The problem came only when he tried to picture the lucky bastard responsible for creating that family without feeling a bitter surge of resentment and jealousy.

No, not this time, he thought. Not again. The next asshole to come along might actually succeed in taking her away from him forever. And Hunter wasn't about to let that happen.

Not when he was so intensely in love with Lynn that it almost hurt to look at her.

"You lose!"

Damn, he thought, jarred back to the computerized tournament. One life left and Joseph sat, bouncing gleefully on his knees.

Munching on a handful of nuts as the game counted down, he tried not to laugh as she flopped down with Stephanie on the carpet, planting sloppy kisses over her pink and squealing with laughter face. And when Skittles came loping over, where most girls would have pushed the slobbering, shedding mongrel away, worried about their dress, makeup and hair, she roped him in and tussled him down for a belly rub that had his tail thumping and tongue lolling with abject adoration.

Even the mutt was mad for her.

Yeah buddy, get in line.

Hunter slid his attention back to the screen just as Scorpion nailed his Spiderman with an aerial flip that sent him reeling and ended the game. Damn, he thought with a chuckle, he'd been too focused on her and let his showboat of a cousin murder him for the fourth consecutive time in old-school Marvel Vs. Mortal Kombat.

Smiling, he sipped from his tepid Heineken while Joseph shot up in a dance of squealing victory.

"Sucka!" Joseph bounded in crazed circles, arms in the air, wiggling his hips and hooting with laughter. "Smoked your ass!"

"Yeah, you got me." Hunter handed the controller to Adrian who had been watching with impatient yearning. "Let's see if your younger brother can dethrone you, punk." He paused to swipe a hand through Adrian's sandy mop of hair. "I'm counting on you, little man. Make me proud and kick his sorry butt to dust. Got a five with your name on it, if you do."

Adrian's wide, blue eyes filled with reverent awe, then, with all the grim determination of a solider facing his opponent in the battlefield, hunched his shoulders, drew in the controller and slid a steely glare to his brother who had yet to lose his smug grin.

"You're going down."

As Hunter strode away with a smile, he caught Joseph's taunting, "Bring it, wimp. I'll make you cry. Beg. And when it's over both of you will bend the knee to hail the awesomeness of the mighty Joseph."

Having been a kid himself, Hunter knew not to discount the powerful motivation behind a monetary bribe. And the five would still be there for Adrian even if he didn't, smoke his brother, he thought while smiling, and perhaps a there'd even be a fiver for His Royal Punk Ass, if he was a good enough sport to let Adrian take him in one.

Where was she, he wondered, tuning out the wild roar of the game, the disorienting buzz of a hundred various conversations carrying on at once over the music wafting in the background. He wiggled his empty bottle, frowned.

Well, as long as he was looking for her, he might as well make a trip over to the beer fridge for a top up. Whistling along to the tune of Part-Time Lover playing in the background, he turned the corner, Hunter pushed open the door and stopped.

Stopped moving, stopped whistling, and almost stopped breathing.

There she was, standing on tiptoe and straining to reach the top shelf where a package of paper towel was perched. She'd toed off her heels, and he slanted his gaze to appreciate the line of her shapely legs that ran up to the flowing hem of her coral skirt skimming above her knees.

"Oh, hey." The look and the smile she tossed over her shoulder snapped him back.

Hunter strolled over, set down his empty on the counter beside her. Reached up. "Let me...I can—" Their fingers brushed and he almost swore the snap of electricity was more than static, but a spark forged from his own sexual heat. Surprised, she'd jerked away from him, her bracelet catching the plastic wrapped around the cardboard and the box tumbled down the shelf to bean him across the head.

"Oh!" She spun around, eyes wide and hands to her mouth. "Oh, Hunter, I'm so sorry."

"I'll live." He laughed, rubbing a hand to his brow; it hadn't hurt, smarting only his pride. But she was pulling at his hand, brushing back his hair so she could inspect. Not such a bad deal, he thought, backed against the counter as her breath skimmed the side of his face, his skin warming under the touch of her fingers stroking over his temple.

"How does it look?" He smiled. "Will I make it?" She answered him with a laugh, as he hoped she would. He'd always loved the sound of her voice, her laugh, and suddenly, he wanted to stretch out this rare moment with the two of them alone.

Free of prying family eyes.

When had they got this close, she wondered. Close enough for her to see the grain of stubble on his jaw, the texture of his lips...God, he'd done a lot of growing up over the years. A realization that struck her all the harder now that they were standing together. Alone. Without the blanket of predawn to shroud most of the details.

His face, once rounded with the boyishness of youth, had leaned out, trimmed of its adolescence. And it certainly wasn't boyish anymore but now all angular and with an edge that would have seemed dangerous were it not for the smile he often carried in his eyes, more gold than green and almost the same tawny hue as his hair.

Lynn swallowed hard. Those eyes weren't smiling now. And the look in them wasn't playful but searching...dangerous.

"Not sure." She eased away from him. "Might need three...maybe four invisible stitches. Could leave a scar."

"Can't you just kiss it better?"

She blinked at the request, eyes wide and bright as a startled puppy. "Excuse me?"

"I'm injured." Hunter tapped a finger to his brow, flashed a slow, easy grin that he'd learned to perfect during his time abroad. "And since you're at fault, I figure a kiss will let you off the hook. Or I can always tell mama you beat up her favourite son."

Was he flirting? The firing senses of her startled nerves choked her ability to think rationally, coherently. No, you idiot, he's just being Hunter. This is a game. A joke. Something for a laugh. Don't be a moron, just...do something!

"Oh, sure, big baby." She laughed to mask the quiver of anticipation, rising to her toes, slid her arms around his shoulders, and struggled not to think about the feel of his hands as they found her waist. Deliberately, Lynn slowed down her movements, gentle, easy so that her racing heart steadied.

But under the press of his hands, her skin warmed, those arms circled as he drew her closer and closed his eyes, savouring the sensations of her breath against his skin, followed by the soft, luscious texture of her lips brushing along his temple, for the briefest instant before easing away. The faint whisper of her delicate perfume swam in his head and made him giddy.

Suddenly, and with an urgency he hadn't expected to rise within him so aggressively, Hunter wanted to touch her. And not just touch, but possess. To feel the curve and contours of a body he'd only ever fantasized about, starting with those lovely breasts and down to stroke his hands over the length of Lynn's endless legs, to know the wild and wicked excitement of wrapping them around him.

A wild sort of need that boarded on the edge of irrational and insane.

"There," he managed in a voice far too serious to pass for teasing. "All better."

"Yes. Um." Edging away, she snatched up the large box of paper towel, hugged her arms around it, needing the distance and the shield.

"I could take those for you," Hunter offered, and when he took her arm, she made sure the smile she cast him was fast and impersonal. She needed to get out of there.

Now.

Another minute. Another second, anything longer would be dangerous. He was still watching her too carefully for her comfort. And Lynn was terrified of what he would see. She'd always been an easy one to read, and was why she'd never made a point of looking him in the eye too long. Or too closely.

"No, it's alright. I'm heading back up to the kitchen, anyway. Thanks."

As she fled, leaning back against the counter, Hunter tucked his tongue in his cheek, folded his arms across his chest. She'd almost leapt out of her skin when he'd touched her arm, just as she had earlier from the brush of their hands, startled by the spark of static.

Nothing to be skittish about, but then, he supposed, that was the sort of effect Lynn had on him for as long as he could remember. She was always sparking under his skin, jolting him with electric bursts of need.

And now, he began to wonder if perhaps she wasn't the only one doing the sparking.

No, there was definitely a spark between them.

And if he wanted answers, then he needed to find his damn balls and make a fucking move. No more games, he thought, no more missed opportunities. Tonight would be the last time he let her walk away without laying it all out on the table.

Wrestling his phone from his pocket, he punched in Grant's number, as he'd left the party a couple hours ago to join a few friends a bar, and waited to hear the sound of his voice shouting at him over the line, competing with the blare of music.

"Hold on," Grant managed, and the line muffled, phone probably pressed to chest, and the chaos of music bled away. "Fucking balls, its cold," he muttered. "Ok, Hunt, you've got two minutes before I'm a fucking snowman."

Too ticked off with himself to smile, Hunter kicked at a mound of snow. "This Saturday, you're heading out to that winery in Niagara Falls still, right?"

"Yeah." Grant sniffed, a note of disdain rang clearly in the sound. "Don't remind me. Hate that sort of shit, but gotta go. If I didn't love Aunt Shelley so much, I'd say fuck it, but well, what can I do?"

"Cool." Hunter nodded, mulling it over. "Good. If you don't mind, I'll be crashing there. Kinda need privacy, so just wanted to check and make sure, otherwise I'd just...I dunno, get a hotel or something."

"Yeah, no worries. She's all yours. Ok. Time's up and my nuts are getting frostbite, see ya around, f*cker."