I tap my chin. “How about war? I’m basically in one, a little battle would be welcome.”
The sound he makes is somewhere between a chuckle and a laugh, and it shakes his newly grown facial hair. I wonder what that would feel like against my skin.
Walker deals the cards, splitting it into two equal piles
He looks at me over his cards. “If I win, I want a kiss. I’ve missed them.”
“And what do I get if I win?” I shrug a shoulder in a cutesy way.
“Whatever you want.” The sexy tic in his jaw is downright sinful.
We slap our cards down, going through the piles fast, and laughing the whole way through. When our piles begin to dwindle, you can feel the heat and competition in the air.
Our eyes snap to each other, and then we’re practically leaping over the coffee table, our mouths crashing in the middle.
I’ve never relished losing so much.
22
Walker
“This isn’t exactly what I had in mind when I said we should keep things private.”
Hannah looks up at the house looming in front of us, and I hope that its beauty and the snow surrounding the driveway can change her mind.
“I know it isn’t. But none of these people will say anything, you know they won’t. And you deserve the time off,” I state for the hundredth time before turning to the back. “Everyone ready to make some snow angels?”
Noelle and Breanna, Hannah’s daughters, clap and cheer excitedly. Dahlia looks up from her phone from the back seat of the Explorer I rented to drive us all here.
“I’m ready to get in the hot tub and drink my weight in apple cider, if that counts?” Hannah’s sister quips.
“That works, too! Let’s get unpacked.”
When I finally convinced Hannah to come to the Poconos house Clark and I rented, I felt like I’d won an epic battle of wills. Hannah insisted that this isn’t really under the radar, and her girls might be suspicious of all the new people. But once I mentioned Dahlia could tag along, and that this vacation is my Christmas gift to her since she hasn’t let me get her anything else, she somewhat relented.
In reality, she needs the break. I know she needed to get away from Packton, to take a couple of days to just enjoy some stress-free time with her daughters in a fun location with people she trusts. Colleen and Hayes are tagging along, Clark is coming, and so is our cousin Whitney with her husband and two kids. The kids are similar in age to Noelle and Breanna, and the cabin we’ve rented is more of a luxury resort in the middle of the woods. It has eight bedrooms, a hot tub, all kinds of snow toys like snow mobiles and sleds, massive fireplaces, and a chef that will cook two meals a day.
Plus, I told her we’ll finally be able to share a bedroom overnight, without either of us having to go home or make up an excuse about why we’re sleeping in the same bed. Over the past two weeks, our under-the-radar relationship has taken off once more. After the night playing cards, and then undressing each other in haste before Dahlia got home with the girls, we’ve been solid. No, I haven’t been able to take her out publicly, but we’re communicating every single day, and she’s come over to my place. I’ve gone over to hers twice; once when the girls had visitation with Shane, and another time when Dahlia was a good sport and took them out for dinner so we could have an in-home date night. Obviously, I wish I could see her every day, that I could bring her coffee at work or take her out to a movie on Friday night. Right now, those aren’t options, but I wouldn’t give this up.
“This place is insane,” Dahlia remarks as I haul our bags into the entryway.
The house is meant to look like a ski lodge or log cabin, and it’s all oak wood trims and stone floors. The fireplace looks like it was carved from boulders, but all the furniture is overstuffed and creamy. A fire rages in the hearth, and there are gift bags lining the foyer, with faux fur robes and slippers spilling out.
“Those are from the rental company.” Clark points to the bags as he comes out of one of the rooms above, an almost treehouse looking balcony surrounding the second level with doors branching off of it.
“Oh, hell yes!” Dahlia grabs one up. “Girls, let’s go see what kind of stash they have in the kitchen. Maybe they’ve got candy!”
Hannah’s daughters peel off after their aunt at the mention of candy, and Hannah just chuckles. She looks beautiful today in an apple-red sweater, jeans, and her black curls tumbling out of a bun.
Clark has disappeared once more, and it’s just the two of us standing with our bags, looking out the massive windows to the tufts of snow in the woods.
“See, aren’t you glad you came?” I wrap my arms around her, stealing a kiss from her lips.
“Yes.” She sighs against me. “I needed this. I needed some time away with them, and with you. This place is so peaceful.”
“And romantic. Don’t think I don’t have some things planned for later when the rugrats go to bed.” I wink at her.
“I was counting on it.” Hannah’s smile is sly, and my balls are already tingling in anticipation.
We’re interrupted when said rugrats come screeching back in, boasting faces full of truffles that they found in the kitchen.
“Want one, Walker?” Noelle holds out a melty chocolate ball to me.
I gobble it right out of her hand, which makes her giggle. “Don’t mind if I do.”
We take the next half hour to choose rooms, and while Hannah gets the girls’ room set up, I unpack some of my things. We’re here for four days, and being that I’m usually on the road, I know how to settle myself in with an end date in sight.
After we’re situated, it’s time to head out into the snow. Clark is already ripping around on the snow mobiles, Colleen and Hayes are playing a game of snow horseshoes, and Dahlia has commandeered the hot tub all by herself.
I help Hannah suit her daughters up in their puffy coats, mittens, and hats, and then we stomp out in our snow boots.
Watching the two little ones romp out in the mounds of snowflakes gathered on the ground is freeing. Their childlike glee puts a smile on everyone’s face, but especially Hannah’s. I’ve never seen her look more calm, and seeing her this peaceful makes me extremely happy.
I put Noelle on my shoulders, trudging into the snow until I know it’s fresh and soft, and then dumping her off in there. She squeals with delight, and before I know it, Breanna is toddling toward me. The snow is practically up to her shoulders, but her face is so alight with joy that she’s unperturbed.
We spend the afternoon having snowball fights, making angels with our limbs in the fluff of white ice, and then all congregate by the fire and drink hot chocolate to warm up before dinner.
The chef prepares us a meal of steak, potatoes, and seasonal vegetables. Whitney’s family arrives shortly before we all sit down, and the dinner table is one big cloud of noise, smiles, and scarfing down the delicious spread. This is what I had in mind when Clark and I went in on renting this place together; a getaway from reality where we could all let our hair down and I don’t have to hide the fact that I’m holding the hand of the woman I am falling in love with. Albeit, under the table, but it’s a step in the right direction.
Once the girls are down, the adults congregate in the big open-concept great room. The windows of the cabin reach from ceiling to floor, revealing a darkened winter wonderland outside. The fireplace roars in the corner, and Hayes is passing out steaming mugs of hot toddies.
“Can we stay forever?” Whitney leans into her husband, Ian.
Whitney is Dad’s cousin’s daughter, so technically she’s a second cousin, but titles like that don’t matter in the Callahan family. We all grew up around each other all the time, so we’re close. She and Ian have been married for a while now, and have two sons, a four-year-old and two-year-old.
“If only.” He chuckles. “I’d give anything for the boys to be this tired out in real life.”
“I know what you mean. When they sleep so hard that their heads
hit the dinner table, it’s been a good day,” Hannah agrees.
“I don’t know how you guys do it. I can barely keep track of this one.” Colleen hooks a thumb at Hayes.
“Good thing you’re retired, old man, because you could have seriously jacked up your knee on that snow mobile.” Clark busts Hayes’ chops.
“Watch who you’re calling old man. You’re just salty I beat your ass.” Hayes pats himself on the back, and Clark nods good-naturedly.
“Should we do the naked snow challenge, then?” Clark switches topics.
“The naked snow challenge?” Dahlia giggles next to him, and I notice they’re sitting awfully close on that couch.
I chuckle. “Why are you always suggesting this when we get drunk in the winter?”
“This is a regular occurrence?” Hannah raises an eyebrow at me.
I shake my head. “Whenever Clark has one too many and sees a snow pile, he’s challenging whoever is in the room to a contest. Basically, you strip naked and stand out in the snow. Whoever can last the longest out there wins whatever prize you agreed on.”
“I am way too old for that.” Whitney laughs. “And my parts are way too jiggly for them to be backlit by a bunch of white snow.”
Colleen rolls her eyes. “Right, like any of us think that. You’re as tall as a gazelle and have no cellulite after two kids. Bite me.”
“I have to agree,” Hannah pipes up. “My tiger stripes would put yours to shame.”
I hug her tighter around the waist, and bend to practically lick her earlobe. “I can personally attest that is just not true.”
“Maybe we should do the naked snow challenge, then.” Whitney has a competitive expression on her face.
“I’d beat all you motherfuckers.” Clark flexes a bicep.
“And you’ll have shriveled junk for three days. Nah, I think I’ll stay by the fire and drink my alcohol and then take my wife to bed.” Ian puts an end to the showboating.
“Amen to that.” Hayes raises his own glass.
A couple rounds of hot toddies later and we’re all tipsily toasted, happy in our sweats in front of the fire.
“What’s that all about?” Hannah is glaring at her sister, but leaning back into my arms.
I don’t think anyone is surprised we’re cuddled up, considering everything they’ve witnessed and rumored over the last few months. It feels so good to be able to hold her, just hold her, with other people seeing it. This whole trip makes the idea of us as a couple, no matter how far down the line it is, so much more real.
Dahlia is following Clark up the stairs, the two of them snickering and wobbling a little bit.
“Two single, attractive people taking advantage of a luxury house and a carefree vacation?” I smirk.
“He’s a total playboy.” Hannah frowns, moving to get up.
I secure her back against me. “And she’s a consenting adult. Don’t worry, I’m pretty sure your sister has Clark’s ticket, regardless. Plus, don’t you want to know what I have planned for us?”
“Hmm?” She turns to me, her big blue eyes a little hazy.
I lean down to whisper in her ear. “You, me, and a bottle of champagne in the hot tub.”
There is no mistaking the full body shudder that goes through Hannah.
“The girls … who will watch them?” She looks hesitant.
“Come on, we’ll take the monitor out with us. You know you want to get me in my bathing suit.” Really, I just want to get her in those hot bubbles completely naked, but who’s concerned with technicalities?
Hannah pauses for a beat, but then jumps off the couch. “Fine. But only because that hot tub does look amazing.”
It only takes us ten minutes to change into our suits, grab some flutes and then climb into the hot tub. Almost immediately, I have her in my arms, my lips on her neck.
“Walker …” Hannah moans, the cool air making her breath appear.
The contrast between the frigid outdoor temps and the heat of the bubbling tub only spurs our tipsiness, both from the alcohol and lust.
My hands slide down her sides and fingers hook into the waistline of her bikini bottom.
“No one can see us,” I whisper, my fingers traveling down until they connect with the bundle of nerves between her legs.
In truth, I have no idea if anyone else is watching us, and I don’t care.
A gargled groan is pressed into my neck. “We can’t do this out here. Take me to bed.”
That last sentence is one I’ve been longing many years for. Before I can assess if anyone is in the living room, I pick Hannah up out of the hot tub, wrap her legs around my waist, and walk into the house dripping wet.
When we finally pass out, the sheets are damp from the water of the tub and the sweat of our bodies. But it’s the first time I get to fall asleep with her securely beside me for the duration of the night.
And it’s heaven.
23
Hannah
Our long weekend away in the Poconos was exactly what I needed.
It cleared my head, allowed the girls to have some childhood glee, and brought me much closer to Walker. I also got to see what a relationship between him and my girls would look like, and I love what I saw. Not only would Noelle and Breanna not stop gushing about him, or asking when he would come over and play again, but I got to see how good he is with kids.
I’m not looking for a new father for them, or even considering the possibility that I’ll commit to someone so deeply so fast after my divorce is finalized. But it was a good sign that he could help prepare their meals while I juggled getting them set up at the table. And I appreciated how seamless he made everything; usually it’s me dealing with my daughters alone on all road trips or vacations, Shane was never much help.
Not to mention, Walker and I got some rare couple time in a place that we didn’t have to shy away from displaying our attraction in public. No one who was on the short weekend stay is going to say anything about us, and it’s everything to be able to share a bed with the man I am seeing. As a single mom, especially one who is divorcing a man with a jealous streak and many connections, I didn’t really get to do that.
Falling asleep in Walker’s arms, waking up to him for those couple of mornings? It’s kept my heart warm and confident in the past week, when we’ve returned to reality and have to resume sneaking around.
I’m supposed to meet Dahlia at the nail salon after she drops the girls off for a little R & R while they’re with their father. Plus, it’s been a hot minute since my toes have seen a pedicure and the winter hasn’t been kind to them.
So I’m shocked when my sister walks in, thirty minutes after the time she said she’d meet me, with both of my daughters, who are carrying on about which nail polish color they want.
“Hey.” I try to affix a neutral smile to my face as I bend down to kiss Noelle and Breanna.
Dahlia shakes her head at me, as if instructing me not to ask until the girls are out of earshot. “We wanted to all come and get our nails done with Mommy!”
Her voice holds so much fake enthusiasm that I know something is wrong.
“It’s been so long since I’ve seen you!” Lily, the woman who owns the local nail salon and has known me and my girls for years, comes over to hug them. “Come with me, girls, and you can soak your feet in the bubbles!”
Either she knows I need a minute alone with Dahlia, or she really is just a godsend and loves spending time with my daughters. Either way, I shoot her a glance that says thank you.
“What’s going on?” I ask as the girls go to the back with Lily, their excited chatter echoing to the front of the shop.
“I waited for him in the driveway for half an hour. Called the house, his cell. Rang the doorbell, even tried to peer in a few windows. Either he was avoiding me, or he wasn’t home. No matter how you slice it, he missed his visit.”
My heart sinks, because this seems to be a pattern lately. First, it was the indecisiveness when planning visits,
which was odd because he really wasn’t doing anything else now that he’s suspended from the league. And now it’s missing visits?
“Shit …” I rub my chin, trailing off. “Do you think something is wrong?”
Dahlia rolls her eyes. “Please, don’t stick up for him.”
I immediately get defensive. “You really think I would? I just think it’s not like him to miss this, especially with how hard he’s been fighting on the custody issue.”
During the last round of mediation, which he didn’t bother to show up to but instead sent his lawyer, Shane rebuffed my suggestion that I retain primary custody and we work out a schedule for his visitation. I have no clue why he wants a fifty-fifty split, seeing as he never bothered to parent when we were actually living under the same roof.
“I think we should google him. I’m sure he’s got some shit on his social media.” Dahlia buries her head in her phone.
It’s not her worst idea, though part of me does not want to find out what’s being said by trolls and haters.
I haven’t been online in a month or two, mostly for my own sanity. I was never much of a social media poster, so it doesn’t bother me to stay away from those apps. I know any comments on there, or news articles, about Shane and me would be awful. I don’t need to know what random strangers on the Internet think about my divorce or the abuse.
But if Dahlia couldn’t get in touch with my husband, though hopefully, that status will be changing soon, then this is probably the next best option. He’s a public figure. If he’s out, someone has probably spotted him somewhere.
A couple of the most recent articles just detail what is going on with our divorce case, or how Shane is fighting the ruling that the baseball commissioners sent down suspending him from playing for any team right now.
But then one headline catches my eye: Former Baseball Hunk Mourns Death of Marriage with New Companions.
I click on it, my heart already in my throat. And then the sting of reality flicks my tear ducts, and the back of my neck. There, in a full spread before the article even starts, are a dozen pictures of Shane running around some beach with four different models. All thin, way too young, and barely clad. Scrolling back up, I check the date of the article … yesterday.
Stealing Home (Callahan Family Book 2) Page 13
