A Hunted Man (The Men of Halfway House) (9 page)

"Sweetie, you want to take a break?" Lucy asked carefully. "You've been working all day."

Cameron shook his head. He sure as hell didn't need a fifteen minute break of doing nothing other than thinking about those piercing silver eyes.
Fuck
.

"I'm going to be out back cooling the new batch. If you change your mind, just come get me, okay?"

Cam nodded and finished working the heart design for the thin blonde in the green business suit. Lucy delivered the coffee order to the customer before disappearing to the back.

Cameron closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths. He had survived the extra busy morning crowd and typical lunchtime rush without any issues or obstacles. If Hunter hadn't shown up by now, then he probably wasn't going to come in today, and he'd just have to deal with not seeing him for yet another day.

"Cam, register please," Bill called over from the sandwich station.

He took a deep cleansing breath. He had a job to do. It was no one's fault he was lusting for a guy who might or might not be gay. He started to walk over to the register and stopped.

Hunter.

There, standing at the register with his head down, talking on the phone, dressed to kill in a dark blue suit and blue-gray tie. Cam inhaled deeply and tried to calm his breathing. Damn, the man looked good.

"They panicked after yesterday's testimony and walked in today wanting to cut a deal. I'll finish up the paperwork when I get in," Cameron heard him say into the phone. "No, don't reschedule anything, I'll just use the time to prep for the other cases. I'll see you in a bit, if anything comes up, just text me."

Cam walked to the register as Hunter closed and pocketed his phone.

Hunter looked up and half smiled. "Hi."

Cameron was mesmerized by those silver eyes. The slight ease at seeing Hunter warred with the sexual tension at being near him.

Hunter arched an eyebrow.

Cam realized he hadn't responded.
Shit
. "How can I help you, sir?"

Color rushed to Hunter's face as he looked away. Damn, he liked knowing he could unsettle this man with a simple word.

"Turkey sandwich, cookie, and one of your lattes please," he mumbled.

"You a lawyer?" Cam asked.

"Yes," Hunter responded, making eye contact again.

Cam stood there and assessed him, uncertain if Hunter being an attorney should concern him. He didn't cause Cameron to put up his guard or get the vibe that Hunter could easily be bought or swayed by others.

"Does that bother you?"

"I'm trying to figure out if you're one of the good guys or bad guys," he said candidly.

"I promise I'm one of the good ones," Hunter said softly with a tired smile.

Cam nodded. One thing he had learned in the last ten years was to trust his gut. "Chocolate chip or macadamia?"

"Chocolate chip."

Cameron went to the back and returned with a chocolate chip cookie in a bag.

"Is Cam short for Cameron?"

"Yeah."

"Have you worked on any other designs today?"

"A leaf looking thing called a rosette. Are you gay?" Cameron froze the moment the question escaped his mouth. He was so preoccupied with the rapid-fire questions and answers he didn't realize the one question his brain kept asking should have remained quiet.

"Yes."

His heart pounded against his ribcage and his chest tightened. Now that the question was out of the way, he didn't know what to say or do.

"Is that a problem?" Hunter asked.

Cam shook his head. He rang up the rest of the order, gave Hunter his change, then went to his machine to prepare the coffee. He returned a few minutes later with a latte bearing a combo rosette heart design.

"Nice," Hunter said with a full grin.

"Are you going to drink it this time or stare at it?"

"You could take a break and join me to supervise."

Wait a minute. Is he flirting? Is Hunter flirting?

"Cam, take your break," Bill said with a smirk, clearly overhearing the exchange.

Cameron was dazed. He looked over to Bill then back to Hunter. He wanted to sit with him, hell, he wanted to pounce on the man and lick every inch of him. But what if he said the wrong thing or asked another question best left unasked?

Hunter's phone chirped. He reached into his jacket and read the display. He groaned. "I need to go to the office."

Cam nodded.

"How old are you, Cameron?"

Does that matter? What am I supposed to say?
Crap. His brain was getting fried, and damn, he loved the way his name sounded in that
sexy-as-fuck
voice.

Hunter's phone chirped again.

"Damn it. I've got to go."

Cameron stuffed the sandwich Bill passed over to him into a bag then immediately grabbed the latte mug, emptied the coffee into a lidded cup, and handed it to Hunter.

"That's the second design you've erased," Hunter said with a wry grin.

His cell phone chirped again, and Cam could swear he heard Hunter growl. His rock hard dick was going to explode he was so turned on right now
.
"I'll make you two tomorrow. Now go before you scare the other customers."

Hunter looked at Cam with an odd expression then shook his head. "I'll see you tomorrow."

Cam nodded and watched Hunter as he turned to exit the diner. He knew his attempt at flirting had completely failed with his inappropriate questions and comments. Who was he kidding, he didn't know the first damn thing about how to flirt. He should have kept it professional.

Just before opening the door, Hunter turned and gave Cam one of his piercing glares. He then smiled and waved good-bye.

Cam returned the smile before Hunter turned away to leave.

Well, damn. Maybe this flirting thing wasn't so hard after all.

Hunter sat in his living room, staring at a case file, trying to make sense of an illogical situation. Preston had agreed to a lesser sentence with a simple condition to turn in a decent lead of a 'business associate'. Not even an hour after leaving the courtroom, his office had received notification the defendant was reneging on the deal and wanted to finish the trial. Hunter raced back to court. In the end, a deal for a three year term was declined in exchange for a twelve year prison sentence.
Fucking moron.
It didn't make any sense at all for someone who swore the drugs found in his possession were not his.

Hunter finished the last of the paperwork and stuffed the files back into his bag. He was too wired. He needed to let off some tension, or he was never going to get some sleep tonight. He quickly changed into his workout clothes and headed out to the gym.

While driving, his mind absently wandered to Cameron. Cam captivated him with his weary smile and mesmerizing blue eyes. He had been tense all damn day at the trial, bothered he would miss seeing him another day.

Why the hell hadn't Cameron answered the question about his age before the damn text messages kept interrupting? Maybe he wasn't as young as he looked. He could hope. For some reason, the thought of lusting after a guy almost twenty years younger than him seemed off.

Fucking midlife crisis.

He didn't feel his age. Cam calling him 'sir' just made the age difference more apparent. Maybe it was the whole, respecting elders and shit. He groaned. He hated being self-conscious, that trait wasn't part of his DNA.

He thought the interest was double-sided but then Cam became distant again when Hunter had asked him to join him for coffee. He sighed. Maybe it was best not to push. He could do that and maintain his sanity. Problem was, staying sane was not at the top of his list of priorities, seeing Cam and getting to know him was.

* * * *

"Hey, Dad?" Hunter asked as he closed the door behind him to his father's home. He put his keys and wallet on the table by the door before yelling again, "Dad, you home?"

"Where the hell else am I going to be at this time," his father responded, exiting the bedroom in his tank top and boxer shorts with his hair sticking up in all directions. "Be quiet or you'll wake the neighbors."

"It's only nine o'clock." Hunter chuckled and gave his dad a hug. "How ya doing?" he asked, assessing his father with an arched eyebrow.

"I'm fine," his father responded as he sat on the couch and motioned for Hunter to sit on the side chair. "Sit over there so you don't stink up my good couch."

Hunter laughed. "Sorry, Dad. I had to work off some stress at the gym." He took a seat and watched his dad position himself more comfortably. He noticed the thinner frame his father now bore and how his hair shone silver against the light. Regardless of his appearance, Thomas Donovan was fiercely independent and strong-willed.

"Stop looking at me like that. I'm not your courtroom prey."

He groaned and rubbed his face. "Sorry, Dad."

"What's wrong?" his father asked, obvious worry coloring his expression.

Hunter sighed. "Even when I don't want to, I think I give off that vibe."

"A case going badly?" he asked with concern. "You're married to that job. You need to go out, find yourself a nice young man, and settle down."

Hunter stared at his father in disbelief.

"Fine, then find yourself a guy and go fuck like bunnies."

"I'm
so
not having this conversation with you." Hunter got up from the couch and headed to the kitchen.

"You're not going to find any bacon in there," his father yelled from the other room.

Hunter shook his head and smiled as he raided the cupboard.

"Pantry, top shelf," his father said, leaning on the doorway. "Get enough for both of us."

Hunter looked over his shoulder and stared at his father as he walked over to sit in one of the seats at the kitchen table.

"And get some milk too while you're up."

Hunter grabbed the package of sugarless treats from the pantry then poured two glasses of milk. He slid one of the glasses over to his father and sat in the seat next to him.

"Wow, the whole package. That bad?"

"Dad, stop." He opened the container and dunked one of the wafers in the milk. "These things taste like shit."

"Suck it up. They're the only thing my stubborn son will let me sneak into this house."

Hunter glared.

His father watched him chew on the soggy treat.

"What!"

"What's his name?"

Hunter closed his eyes and heavily sighed while he finished chewing. The image of Cam immediately came to mind. Cam's bright blue eyes and the way he easily smiled with some of the customers at the diner. The way Cam's muscles flexed and his ass tightened slightly in his jeans when he moved boxes around. The smooth, firm timbre of his voice when he spoke, echoed in Hunter's head.

"What's his name?" his father asked again, jolting Hunter back to the conversation.

"Why do you assume there's someone?"

It was his father's turn to glare.

Hunter caved. "Cam. His name is Cameron. He works at the diner by the office," he finished before jabbing another wafer into his milk.

"Obviously, you like him. So what's the problem?"

"I don't know," he mumbled with a mouthful of moist treat. "I don't know what to say."

"That's a new one. Knowing you, you're probably doing that stare thing rather than talking to him."

Hunter shook his head as he chewed.

"You're a stubborn ass. You don't even know you're doing it. You're probably freaking him out."

"What the hell am I supposed to say, Dad? 'Hey, Cam, I like you—let's go fuck like bunnies?' You can't be serious."

Hunter almost spilled his milk when his father slapped him across the back of the head. "What the hell, Dad! Those were your words not mine," he said, rubbing the back of his head.

"I can't believe I'm having this conversation with you." His father pressed his palms to his eyes. "You obviously like him so damn much you don't know what to do. What are you worried about?"

Hunter shrugged. "He's younger than I am."

"Is he legal?"

Hunter pinched the bridge of his nose. "For fuck's sake, Dad. Really?"

His father laughed. "Son, it's not like you're my age. How
much
younger?"

"I don't know for sure. I asked him but I didn't get an answer."

"And?"

"And what?"

"I was fifteen years older than your mother, and I loved her more than I thought it was possible to love someone else, and she loved me the same. Age is bullshit. Ask him out."

"It's not that easy. Sometimes, I think he's flirting or something, but then I'm not sure. Maybe he's just being nice to me because I'm a customer. I don't know, Dad. I think he
sees
me as…old," Hunter mumbled the last part.

"Has he called you an old fart or something?"

Hunter just shook his head at the direction the conversation had taken. He couldn't believe he was sitting in his father's kitchen, having cardboard sugarless tasteless wafers with milk, talking about his love life or lack thereof.

"He calls me sir."

"So. Some people are into that stuff."