Chapter Seventeen
Hannah wanted nothing more than to close the distance between them and quite literally fling herself at him. Let him wrap her up and keep her close for the rest of his days. Let her do the same for him.
Hearing him say those words to her, bare himself to her as he had, was both wrenching and breathtaking. Wrenching because she could see the fear, hear the barely contained nervousness. This putting yourself out there, being vulnerable to someone, wasn’t for sissies. And maybe she’d been so caught up in the rush of pheromones that she hadn’t truly given that part a thorough look. It had been so very long since she’d even had to think about it. She’d met Steve in college. She hadn’t been involved with anyone else since.
Their relationship had been over a long time, and she had no ghosts there, no baggage. Not about her marriage, anyway. Losing her son had pretty much eclipsed any pain she might have felt regarding the end of her already dysfunctional marriage. It had been a relief more than anything, not having to devote any more of what she had left of herself to trying to save it.
Once it was over, she’d realized almost immediately that she’d been trying to save it because that’s what you did when you made vows, and they had a child together. When the truth was she should have been trying to save it because it was something she actually wanted. But she hadn’t. Nor had her ex, who’d proven that by his quick remarriage and immediate production of a whole new family. She’d stopped asking herself what else she could have done, and wishing she could help to ease Steve’s pain over their joint loss when she’d learned he’d been assuaging it with someone else all along.
So it was a bit of a shock to her system, standing there now, to realize that the risk she was running by getting involved with Will wasn’t really about putting her heart out there and possibly getting it stomped on. Her heart hadn’t broken, but had actually finally begun to mend when Steve left.
No, the far scarier part for her now was that she would have the power to hurt Will. And that was something she’d never forgive herself for doing, even if she’d never intentionally do so. She saw his chin dip, and realized she’d let her silence go on far too long. “My truth,” she said, not entirely surprised to hear the shakiness in her voice, “is that I am afraid.”
His gaze jerked back to hers.
“About a lot of things. The idea that you have found something in me to connect to, so strongly, thrills me. Down to my toes. That you’re willing to stand there, right now, and bare your soul to me, knowing that you might scare me off, that grounds me, steadies me. That takes real strength.” She smiled briefly even as she blinked away the wet sheen over her eyes. “And these past few days of silence notwithstanding, it tells me you won’t back down from saying what needs to be said, not when my well-being is at stake, anyway. I respect that, and I happen to like it a lot, too.”
His gaze turned wary rather than relieved, and she knew he heard the “but” coming. She wished there wasn’t one.
“I’m just not sure that . . .” She trailed off, wanting to find the right words, and not insult him, or worse—far worse—his late wife. She took a steadying breath and simply put it out there, as he had. “You have held on to your grief for your wife a very long time. I ache that you suffered for so long. But . . . I worry that—”
“I’m replacing her with you?” he said, no accusation, or worse, condescension in his tone.
“I would never presume that,” she said. “What I mean is that sometimes the easiest way to deal with a big, huge, hard thing is to transfer it onto something else, hopefully something better and happier, healthier. Sometimes, that’s a good way to deal with things, but other times it can just be another way of avoiding the big, huge, hard thing.”
“And you worry that you’re behind door number two.”
She nodded, a brief curve hinting at the corners of her mouth.
He didn’t immediately deny it, which would have worried her more, not less. Instead he seemed to take her words as intended and appeared to be truly thinking them over. “I’m sure there has to be some truth to that,” he said at length.
She wanted him, but she wanted his desire for her, his need and want of her, to truly be about her. So, his honest assessment was a good thing, even if it pricked at her heart at the same time.
He did step closer then, stopping when he was just in front of her. He held her gaze unswervingly, and every part of her responded to him, to his proximity.
“But just so you know, while in some ways this all seems very sudden,” he said, searching her eyes as he did, “you’ve captivatd me since I first saw you. All of this didn’t happen because we both suffered a major tragedy, or because of the time we spent together in your bed. That last part just made it impossible for me to duck it any longer.”
“It?” she asked, maybe a bit breathlessly, and not caring.
“This,” he said, looking deeply into her eyes. “You had my attention even before that day I pulled you out from under a crumbling chimney. But that was when I knew for sure something was there. Your soft eyes, the pretty smile, your unswerving optimism no matter how many setbacks you all faced with the farmhouse, your willingness to just say what’s on your mind. All of it got to me. All of you.” His gaze remained intent, but the rest of his oh-so-serious expression split into a grin that made her knees actually wobble. “The upward trajectory from there has been sharp.”
She laughed at that, wishing it would relax some of the tension mounting inside her. “I can identify with that,” she admitted. “I admired your work ethic, your focus, your steady and calm demeanor even when our house was literally crumbling around us. And it’s possible I might have spent a lot of time watching you toss big rocks around when I should have been picking lavender.” She grinned broadly when his abashed grin was matched with a bit of a blush. “I’ve never been so fond of white T-shirts before in my life.” His cheeks grew a bit ruddier still, and she delighted in discovering yet another thing she hoped to make him do more often.
They held each other’s gaze and she couldn’t seem to stop trembling in anticipation.
His grin peeked out slowly, and his gaze never left hers. “So, if I promise to wear a white T-shirt . . . does this mean our date is still on?” he asked, breaking the taut silence.
That made her laugh even as her heart pounded. Were they going to do this after all? She nodded. “Can we set the date and time now, though?”
He ducked his chin, chuckling as he did. “I deserve that.”
“A little,” she said, wondering when it would be okay for him to just kiss her already. She was dying for him to touch her.
He lifted his head and she might have gasped just a little because the fear was gone now, the nerves, too. Leaving only the heat. “Is tonight too soon?”
Her pulse leapt. “I guess I can wait that long.”
His grin was slow, and not a little wicked. “I was thinking dinner down in Turtle Springs. Maybe take a boat out on the Hawksbill River. You get a very different view of the mountains from the middle of the river. If you’d like to bring your sketch pad, I thought maybe some of the scenery would be inspiring.”
Touched at his thoughtfulness, she nodded. “That sounds lovely.”
“I was hoping you’d think so. I also figured being in a tiny canoe on a big wide river might give us a fighting chance to spend some time talking about more inconsequential things. Getting-to-know-more-about-you things.”
She laughed. “With our clothes on this time.”
“Though I kind of liked the things I was getting to know before, too.”
His husky voice and the way he was looking at her, coupled with all the things he’d said to her, made her want to beg off the river trip and drag him back to her place right then and there. And you were worried he was going to be the intense one?
“Then we have a lot to look forward to,” she said, thinking if he didn’t kiss her inside the next five seconds, she was just going to go full on Addie Pearl and take what she wanted. Right there on the park bench if need be.
Something of that must have shown on her face, because he took a step closer still, all but eliminating the rest of the space between them, yet still not touching her. “That hunger I mentioned is the only thing keeping my hands off you.”
She trembled and had to forcibly keep herself from simply leaning into him, against him. “Maybe . . . maybe dinner and the canoe trip could wait one more night,” she said against a suddenly very dry throat. “You know, just so we don’t jump each other right there in the restaurant. Might upset the other diners.”
“So considerate,” he said, murmuring now as his head bent imperceptibly closer to hers. “Always thinking of others.”
“That’s me.”
“How badly did you want to paint today?” he asked, his gaze dropping to her mouth.
She wet her lips and his throat worked, hard.
“I couldn’t hold a paintbrush steady right now if my life depended on it.” She looked from his eyes to his mouth. “Didn’t you want to sit in on Jake’s rehearsal?”
“I caught the first song. He knew I had a meeting with Addie Pearl.”
“Right,” she said, her gaze fixed on his mouth now. “Addie Pearl. We might owe her a thank-you.”
“It would go right to her head,” Will said, and leaned in so close now he was whispering into her ear.
“She earned it,” Hannah said, barely able to get the words out, she was shaking so hard with want.
“True.”
“Could we go somewhere, anywhere more private? To, ah, continue this conversation?” Hannah asked. Begged. “Because one more second of this torture and we might end up giving the youngsters that frequent this trail an entirely inappropriate nature demonstration.”
His chuckle was raspy and deep, and she wanted to rub her hands up and down her arms to stop the tingling sensation it sent skittering over her skin before it reached other places that needed no additional tingling right then. None. At all.
“Again with the thoughtfulness,” he said, and finally, mercifully touched her. But not in the way she’d anticipated. He took her hands in his, then wove his broader, warmer fingers through hers.
It was more shockingly intimate than she would have expected—their palms united, warm, bare flesh against flesh—as he rubbed his fingertips over her knuckles.
He tugged her that infinitesimal bit closer and shifted his head to take her mouth. Gently, but oh so fully. She almost whimpered in relief as his warm lips covered hers, parted them. Then he slipped his tongue inside, teased hers, suckled her. She heard a long, low groan from somewhere inside him when she did the same in return. Then he broke the kiss, pressing his forehead to hers. She could barely hear the sound of the creek behind them for the sound of her pulse throbbing inside her ear. Everything was throbbing.
“Maybe dinner tomorrow is a good idea,” he said roughly. “Jake can stay at Addie’s tonight.” He opened his eyes and lifted his head enough to look down into hers. “If you’d like.”
“I would very much like.”
“Seven?” he asked.
“What time is it now?” She leaned in close and nibbled his earlobe and had the satisfaction of feeling him tremble. She whispered in his ear, “Would now be good?”
* * *
Hannah pulled into the garage under her loft and shut off the engine. She couldn’t get out of the Jeep fast enough. It was only because they’d driven separate cars that they’d managed to make it all the way to their destination at all. If there had been any concern that their brief time apart would have allowed the heat to cool or second thoughts to rush in, she needn’t have worried.
Will pulled in right behind Hannah. The dust hadn’t even settled on the driveway behind them as they raced up the stairs. She might have been giggling madly and he might have been chasing her, and maybe, just maybe, she let him catch her right inside the door, grinning and breathless, just so she could feel what it would be like for him to back her against the nearest wall and finally, mercifully, thank-you-Lord, feel the entire length of his wonderfully warm, hard body pressed up against every last one of the soft, and quite damp, parts of hers.
There were gasps and moans, and there was laughter, always laughter, which somehow thrilled her and seduced even more fully than his very skilled mouth and his oh-so-clever hands.
When they couldn’t stand any longer, her carried her to bed—carried her—making her feel young and free, beautiful and desirable. Addie Pearl might have schooled her not to wait for her white knight, and Will McCall had more than a few dings in his armor, but he was all the knight Hannah needed.
This time they undressed each other fully before tossing off pillows and climbing into the delicious coolness of her soft linen sheets. He was hard planes and bunched muscles and she was soft curves and ample everything, and yet they seemed to fit into each other’s arms with very little angling and rearranging.
“I need to find my pants,” he said, when he lifted his head from where he’d been doing the most amazing things to her nipples. He grinned then. “I did come better prepared this time.”
Her head was still arched back, eyes closed in bliss, her hips pinned down by the weight of his arm. So she flung her hand somewhere in the general direction of her nightstand. “So did I.”
“So thoughtful,” he murmured, returning to his task.
“So needy,” she replied, then moaned in appreciation when he finally began making his way down her torso.
One thrust of his tongue and her most immediate need was met with a loud and guttural shout. So was her second. And her third. “Come here,” she said breathlessly, reaching for him. “I’m dangerously close to being climaxed unconscious.”
His grin bordered on smug. She figured he’d earned that right. “We wouldn’t want that.” He grabbed a condom from her nightstand, finally ripping the packet open with his teeth. Maybe she wasn’t the only one shaking with anticipation. He turned to her, pulled her into his arms, then shifted his weight until he was on top of her.
“True,” she said, still short of breath, thinking her blissed-out grin might be permanent. “This next bit would be more fun for you if I were an active participant.”
“Hopefully for you, too,” he said wryly, then bent his head and nipped at one earlobe while settling in between her legs.
Hannah felt a sudden rush of emotion, feeling his weight finally fully on top of her, wanting to feel him inside her, wanting him to fill her. More than once since her divorce, since the accident, and all that dealing with both of those things had entailed, she’d thought she should just find someone decent who wouldn’t mind a friends-with-benefits arrangement, leap that hurdle, and put it behind her, so it wouldn’t gain any unnecessary importance. Now, lying here, in her bed, with only the second man she’d ever been with, she was so very glad she’d waited. She looked up into Will’s beautiful green eyes, and knew, no matter where this led, for this particular part of her forward journey, she wouldn’t have wanted it to be anyone other than him.
Given their urgency to this point, she’d expected him to take her in some breathless rush of heat and need. Instead, he lived up to his word, about putting her needs first. He took his time. His wonderful foreplay had relaxed her and she certainly couldn’t have been more ready, but after years of celibacy, she was a bit snug, and he was a bit above average, so he entered her slowly, letting her body adapt to him. She closed her eyes and focused on the feeling, for so long not a part of her life, and at the same time, so wonderful. She opened her eyes in time to see him close his as he sank fully inside her. She arched up to meet him, holding him tightly. He groaned so deeply she could feel his chest vibrate against hers. He stopped moving and she spent a split-second wondering if he was trying to hold himself back from climaxing, or if he, too, was having to adjust to the idea of being with someone new. And if it was as positive for him as it was for her. She didn’t want those thoughts to intrude now but couldn’t stop them.
Before nerves or doubt could take hold, his eyes opened again, and his gaze pinned immediately on hers, and stayed there as he began to move inside her. She wrapped her legs around him and arched into him, moving with him as they slowly found their rhythm. Any and all comparisons to any other part of her life vanished as she gave herself completely over to him, to this new life she was living now. This was who she was now, who she was with now, and it was glorious. Nothing else mattered.