The Country Duet(62)

“Pancakes or waffles? I ain’t got time for this.” Baker gets right up in his face until they are nose to nose. “Pancake or Waffles?”

She doesn’t even give him a hint at cereal this time. It’s clear what she wants and if Hunter is a smart man he’ll pick waffles. The batter is similar, and I’m not sure of the difference after the gallons of maple syrup she pours onto her breakfast.

Hunter rolls over facing her. The light in his eyes makes my own heart stop. I watch him take in her dark red hair and matching aqua eyes. It all comes to life. I watch his love for me play out in his own eyes as he watches my daughter.

“Darlin’, what do you prefer?” he croaks out.

“Waffles.” Baker’s hands slap down on her hips in sheer victory, then her little face flips to me. “Momma, waffles!!!”

It’s more of a battle cry, and I watch as Hunter winces at the tone of her voice, but never scolds or corrects Baker. He does his best righting himself up on the couch into a sitting position. It’s like slow motion as I watch everything play out on his features.

None of it matters except the fact it was my number he called first. It means something. I’ve shattered the man, but he’s one of a kind and the attraction is mutual.

“Sissy, can you show Hunter where the bathroom is and I’ll start your waffles?”

Baker wastes no time ripping him by the arm down the hall. She couldn’t care less about his injury. She tugs and pulls just like he’s an ordinary rag doll of hers and he follows.

It takes all of my concentration to mix the batter, following the simple ingredients on the side of the box. Seeing Hunter with Baker is all too much. It’s like a wrecking ball has been assigned to me, destroying everything I have left in me.

There’s no way I could tell Hunter that my high school English teacher had sex with me and I fell pregnant. Then his family took her from me. I was allowed weekly visiting rights, and she knew I was her mother, but his brother, Jerico, was adamant at keeping her with his family. It was his older brother who knocked me up, and Jerico spent every one of his last dimes to keep Baker locked away in his family.

It was my Dad who pushed, even though he was in Idaho and me in California. He shoved me to fight the law, no matter how high the mountain was. The final obstacle course was a steady career, and she was mine. I was forced to move to my Dad’s and focus on my career, then Hunter entered my life, complicating the impossible piece of my puzzle.

But now I mix a simple batter while my daughter leads Hunter around my house. The man was running on fumes then he had his accident, but he’s up with Baker running around the house.

I busy myself finishing up the batter, then start pouring the batter in the cooker. I can hear Baker singing the hand washing song to Hunter. The tap of the water doesn’t turn off until she’s finished with the entire song. I’m assuming the drugs from the ER are still coursing through his veins since he’s so compliant, but then again, it’s Hunter. The man with a heart of gold and patience of a saint.

But it’s when Baker and Hunter round the corner that I find myself smiling. Hunter reaches up, swiveling his hat backward on his head.

“Gordon.” He smiles clutching tight to Baker’s petite hand.

“Hunter.” I duck my head hiding my smile.

“Momma, him’s hands are washed, and we are hungry.”

She points to the barstool for Hunter, then climbs up on the one next to him. “I’s been begging to have a friend over to eat at this bar. Glad Momma finally brought one home.”

Baker perches her little elbows up on the bar, resting her chin under her knuckles then stares at Hunter’s profile. Hunter’s busy gazing at me, but it’s the dream stare in Baker’s eyes that makes my heart light and full at the same time. She’s falling in love with him just as fast as I did. It’s the twinkle in her eye that gives it all away.

I plate the waffles and then place them in front of them. The two don’t waste any time digging into the butter and syrup. Once Hunter has a stable amount of food in his stomach, I slide his three pills over to him. He swipes them off the counter and swallows them down with a gulp of orange juice. Covertly, I thought until Baker pipes up.

“Momma, my gummies, please.” She shoves her little palm out with her perma-grin in place.

I place the gummy vitamins in her palm. Hunter peers over at her with a brow raised.

“What are those for?” he asks her.

“Makes me strong and healthy.” Baker pushes her little chest out.

“I reckon I need some of those then, Darlin’.”

I can’t speak for Baker, but when his deep, caressing voice speaks the word darlin’, my ovaries are down. Then just like her mother, so is Baker. Her dimples shine brighter while she stares at Hunter.

“Momma, can he have one?” she asks, but even though it’s stated as a question, it’s more of a demand.

I don’t think twice about slipping Hunter his own gummy vitamin. He rolls it over in his hand, thinking really hard about whether he needs it or not.

“Will this make hair grow on my chest?” he asks Baker in all seriousness.

I’m just a bystander on the opposite side of the island watching their relationship blossom. When Baker’s nose curls in disgust, I know exactly where this conversation is about to go.