by Anna Argent
She would ignore them. Just like she would ignore how good they'd been together, and how she'd never come so hard in her life before him. Just like she would ignore how wrong she'd been when she'd told him that sex would change nothing.
As she lay there, her body cooling and settling, she knew the truth.
Sex with Nate had changed everything.
Chapter Twenty-one
Nate woke up the way he'd fallen asleep—holding Hanna like he never wanted to let her go.
He'd drifted off after two more rounds of sex. One hard and fast with him calling the shots, forcing her body to follow along so he could hear that sweet, high scream of her orgasm again. The last time had been slow and languid, partly because he wanted to take his time and discover every intriguing detail of her body, and partly because they were both exhausted from the frenetic action earlier.
He couldn't regret what they'd done last night—nothing that good could ever be regrettable—but he knew better than to think there would be no consequences.
Nothing that good came without consequences.
She'd been clear from the beginning that she wanted nothing from him but a temporary job. Sure, it had been her idea to fuck him last night, but that didn't mean she wouldn't hold her decision against him. He'd known plenty of women who would.
He left her deeply asleep and went in search of coffee. The sun was just painting a blush across the eastern sky when he realized that her cupboards were empty. No coffee, no cream, no breakfast.
A man couldn't fuck like that and skip breakfast. He'd die of starvation.
He scribbled a short note for Hanna so she'd know he hadn't snuck off, and then headed for town.
Hanna had enjoyed the muffins from the Rise and Shine Bakery so much, he decided to get them again. The bakery opened early, and the OPEN sign was already glowing when he parked and went inside.
The cheerful tinkle of the brass bell announced his presence, and as soon as he passed through the door, the scent of yeasty fresh bread and sweet concoctions greeted him. He was in the middle of a deep inhalation when he spied his parents sitting at their usual spot under the windows in the corner.
He knew they liked to come here before church, but hadn't expected to see them this early.
Dad smiled and nodded. Mom's greeting was cooler, but he had no idea why.
Aunt Beth appeared behind the counter, her white apron pristine and perfect. She was in her seventies, with a frail build and silvery white hair constantly worn in a twisted knot. He'd known her since he was born, and she'd baked every one of his birthday cakes as a child. With a smile always on her face, and an offered treat always in her hand, she was one of the most beloved townspeople in Whisper Lake.
"Good morning, Nate," she greeted.
"Morning, Aunt Beth. You're getting around a lot better these days, huh?"
She'd fallen and broken a hip a few months ago, and had only recently been able to abandon her walker for a cane.
She beamed at him. "I've got to be in shape to dance at the wedding. Been working hard to get there."
"Which wedding?" he asked, knowing full well the gossip around town was that she and Cotton Cyrus were all hot and heavy with each other. "Gemma's or yours?"
Aunt Beth blushed and waved a hand at him. "Stop it. You know I'm talking about that brother of yours. He'd better hurry up and propose to my Gemma before someone else swipes her away."
"I'm working on it," Mom said from her spot a few feet away.
Nate leaned over the display filled with pastries. He lowered his voice to a stage whisper. "The proposal would come a lot faster if Mom would leave the two of them alone."
"I heard that," Mom said.
"I know," Nate replied.
Aunt Beth laughed. "It's a mother's prerogative to meddle. It's how she shows she loves you. Now, what can I get you?"
"Two large coffees, and a half a dozen assorted muffins." He probably shouldn't have ordered so many, but in the back of his mind, he was already wondering if Hanna would want him to spend tonight as well.
"Gemma made some blueberry scones that are out of this world. Want one of them, too?"
"Better make it two."
Aunt Beth bobbed her eyebrows. "Taking breakfast to that new girl again?"
Did everyone in town know everything about what he did with Hanna?
"If I say yes, my mother will start hounding me to propose, too. I can't take the pressure."
Aunt Beth laughed and bustled around, preparing Nate's food.
He left her and went to greet his parents. Mom was still wearing a sour expression, but he knew making her the butt of his jokes would do that.
"I'm not meddling," she said as soon as he was within arm's range. "I'm caring. There's a difference."
"You know I'm just teasing you. We all want Saxon to propose to Gemma."
"When the time is right," Dad added. "No sooner. There's no rushing these things."
Mom's lips tightened and the look she gave Nate was nearly a glare.
"What?" he demanded. "What did I do now?"
"You didn't come home last night. I went by your house and your truck wasn't there. You're wearing the same clothes you were yesterday."
That was so like Mom to go checking on all her little chicks. If he didn't love her so much, he'd strangle her. "So?"
"You were with her, weren't you?" Mom asked.
"Bonnie," Dad said, his tone soothing. "He's a grown man. It's none of our business where he spent the night."
Mom turned her glare on Dad. "You're as worried about him as I am. Don't pretend like you weren't saying so only three minutes ago."
Dad put up his hands. "I'm more worried about his business than his love life. You told me to let it go. I'm telling you the same thing."
"I won't," Mom bit out. "He said he was just helping her, that he wasn't getting emotionally involved. How is that true if he is spending the night with her?"
"I hate to tell you this, Bonnie, but a man can spend the night with a woman and still not develop feelings for her—at least not ones that go anywhere north of his belt buckle."
"Okay," said Nate, his tone firm. "This conversation is over. I haven't lived under your roof for a decade. You don't get to dictate my actions. I hate that you worry, but it's really just a waste of time and energy." He bent down and kissed his mom's cheek. "Love you both. Now butt the hell out."
He turned and paid for his food. Before he could make it safely out of the bakery without further intrusion, Mom called, "We'll see you at Grandad's party, right?"
"Wouldn't miss it," he said, and right before the door closed behind him, he added, "I'm bringing Hanna."
***
Doug tried to hide his grin and failed.
"Don't you dare take his side, Douglas Grace," Bonnie snapped.
"I was just remembering a conversation very much like this one I had over thirty years ago with my folks." He took his wife's hand in his. "See how that turned out?"
"I was not some homeless, jobless gypsy roaming around the country, tempting men into bad decisions when we met."
"No, but you weren't local. My parents were sure you were going to drag me away from them forever. You hadn't started med school yet—hadn't even decided you were going to go. You were just another teenage girl on summer vacation, wearing a bikini to seduce me off the straight and narrow path. They didn't see in you what I did. Maybe that's the way it is with this Hanna girl."
Bonnie narrowed her pretty blue eyes. "You're telling me to butt the hell out too, aren't you?"
"I'm telling you that you should be nice. She may be the mother of your future grandbabies. Open your heart and give the girl a chance."
Bonnie sat quietly for a moment, sipping her coffee. Grudgingly, she said, "She does have a high pain tolerance. Not a whiner, that one."
"That's good. I'm sure if you try, you can find more good things to add to the list."
She sighed and shook her head. "I swear that everythin
g would be simpler if my children would just let me choose their spouses for them."
Doug patted her hand, but could no longer hide his grin. "I'm sure you think so, honey."
Chapter Twenty-two
Hanna eased out of bed, wincing as her stitches reminded her they were still there, holding her skin together.
Sunlight beamed in through the windows, offering a cheery greeting she would have appreciated more on a different morning.
She'd had sex with Nate. She'd promised herself she wouldn't, but she had. Three times.
It had been easy to be strong and resist her baser urges in the light of day, but in the rich shadows that painted the small hours, her willpower had faltered.
He was gone now. She could feel the emptiness of the garage apartment without having to check to see if he was in another room. She knew he wasn't.
She told herself that this was a good thing. He'd got what he wanted—so had she—and had left. Transaction complete. It didn't have to be more than that. She didn't have to make a big deal out it, like some kind of teenage girl.
Sex was just a bodily function. No shame, no muss, no fuss. Moving on.
But she wanted it to be more. Mean more.
She knew it wasn't trendy for her to get all emotional about a fling, but she couldn't seem to help herself. She wanted true love. She wanted romance.
That notion made a bubble of jaded laughter explode from her mouth. Here she was, worrying about whether or not he'd call her after last night, when she should have been figuring out what she was going to do if he kicked her out on her ass because he was bored with her.
It wouldn't be the first time a man had fucked her and run. Only this time, that man was also her boss, which was why she never should have slept with him to begin with.
Stupid, stupid, stupid.
Hanna sighed and stretched carefully. Then she washed her face, brushed her teeth and hair, and then shuffled out to see what kind of caffeine the kitchen might hold. She couldn't face post-sex anxiety without some wake-up juice. She knew there was no coffee, but even an old, forgotten tea bag would have been welcome.
The first thing she saw was Nate's note, propped up on the little kitchen table. Went for food. Be back soon.
She read it three times before she understood what it meant.
He hadn't snuck out after getting what he wanted from her. He hadn't left her to fend for herself with a stale teabag left in the corner of a cupboard. He was out finding her food to bring back, like some kind of smitten caveman.
She didn't know what to do with that. She understood him leaving after sex. She understood him leaving her to fend for herself. But she didn't understand why he was still taking care of her after he'd gotten laid.
Was he really just that nice? Or was she simply reading into his actions what she wanted to see?
Sex with him had made her stupid. She couldn't trust her judgment around him—not after knowing how hard he could make her come.
How tight he held her after it was over.
Hanna shook her head almost violently, working to shrug off the childish, romantic notions that filled her head.
She didn't understand why he was still taking care of her, but there had to be a reason. She didn't need to spend hours figuring it out. She just had to accept that there was still something he wanted from her.
If she was lucky, it would be more sex, because she could really get behind that.
No, her inner voice warned. Sex makes you stupid. You can't afford to be stupid.
That was a true story if ever she'd heard one. She'd made far too many excuses for men's bad behavior simply because she was screwing them. She was done repeating past mistakes. If she wanted a different outcome, she had to take a different course of action.
Her panties were staying on.
With that decision made, Hanna slipped a loose shirt over her cami—no way was she letting a bra strap rub over her stitches—and got dressed. Now that she was clad in cotton armor, she felt more able to keep her promise to herself.
By the time she was ready to face the world, she heard the crunch of tires on broken concrete.
Nate was back.
Her heart sped in anticipation of his appearance. She tried to tell herself that she was simply hungry and that he'd promised food, but she knew better than that.
She was excited to see him again, like a teenager waiting for her first date to pick her up. It was a silly, childish way to feel, but she didn't know how to stop herself.
Hanna had always been her own worst enemy when it came to relationships.
Nate walked in like he owned the place, which she guessed he did. His handsome face was made even more stunning by his bright smile of greeting.
"Good morning, sunshine."
Even in yesterday's rumpled clothes and sporting shadows of fatigue under his eyes, and beard stubble on his jaw, he was still the most alluring, sexy man she'd ever witnessed.
Her thighs clenched as she remembered just how good it had felt to ride him into oblivion. And to have him do the same to her.
"Good morning," she greeted, her tone a bit more reserved than his.
His smile faltered. "Are you okay? Is your shoulder hurting?"
He started toward her, but she stepped back. "I'm fine. Just hungry."
He looked skeptical, but accepted her statement as fact. "Let me change your bandage and make sure you're healing well."
She almost refused, but she couldn't do the job herself and she really had to take care of her health above all else—even her heart.
She went wordlessly to the little bathroom where the supplies were and stripped out of her shirt. Even that movement hurt, but she managed to hide all signs of pain from him.
His green gaze was hot, his eyes heavily lidded as he came in and saw her wearing only the thin camisole. Her nipples puckered against her will, and a stirring of sexual need flickered low in her abdomen.
She gave him her back, more to hide her nipples than to offer herself up for his doctoring.
He slid the thin strap off her shoulder so slowly, she could feel the material brush past every fine hair on her skin.
A shiver raced up her spine, leaving goose bumps spreading out behind it.
He was careful with her as he changed the bandage, causing her as little pain as possible. When the job was done and he declared she was healing well—no infection—he lifted the thin strap back in place and stared at her in the mirror.
His big body seemed to loom over hers, like some kind of knight protector sworn to keep her safe. His hands were tan against her skin as he cupped her shoulders and pulled her back against his solid warmth.
Hanna closed her eyes to block out the intoxicating sight of his hands on her body. She remembered all too well how those hands could make her feel, and she owed it to herself to stay strong. Sex with him had already rocked her world. She couldn't afford to rock it any harder.
His lips brushed across the side of her neck, moving up toward the hollow behind her ear.
"We can't," she said, though her protest sounded weak even to her.
"Why not?"
"It was a mistake."
"Hardly. You certainly didn't think so last night."
He was weakening her defenses—defenses she needed to stay strong if she was going to make better decisions for herself.
If she kept sleeping with him, she was going to fall in love with him. She knew that about herself. Accepted it, even. But she was trying so hard to get back on her feet. Another broken heart was only going to make everything harder.
And it was already hard enough to start a new life in a new state where she knew no one.
"Please, Nate."
He pulled back slightly, but didn't let her go. His hands still held her shoulders gently, his thumbs stroking her skin like he couldn't get enough of her. "Okay," he said, his tone lighter than she would have expected. No irritation or anger, just him moving on. "I won't agree that sex with you was a mist
ake, but I will back off. For now."
That was all she could ask. "Thank you."
He gave her a wink and walked out of the bathroom. "Want to eat outside? It's glorious out there right now—way better than this crap hole."
If he thought this was bad, he would have never stepped foot into her last cheap apartment. That place made this one look like it belonged on the cover of an interior design magazine.
"Sure. Outside works for me."
She followed him out. As soon as the cool morning air hit her face, she pulled in as much of it as would fit in her lungs. It smelled fresh and green and filled with the hope of a new day.
Already, her mood was lighter.
"Do you have plans for the day?" he asked.
"Just work."
He frowned at that as he sat on the top porch step of the Yellow Rose. "It's Sunday. You should take the day off."
"I'd rather work. You know I need the money for Rex."
Nate opened the white paper sack and handed it to her. "You pick."
She went straight for the triangular thing on top, having spied the blueberries. Coffee followed her first delightful bite, and all was right in the world.
"I'd feel better if you didn't push yourself today. Give your shoulder time to heal and all. Besides, I can guarantee you that Declan isn't working on Rex today. He's probably still hung over from last night, lounging around with whichever three women he took home."
"Jealous?" she asked, teasing.
Nate's gaze went soft as he looked into her eyes. "There are no three women in the world combined who could hold a candle to one of you, honey."
Something in her chest went still, lurched, then started working again. She thought it might be her heart, but that seemed far too sappy for a girl who wasn't getting emotionally involved.
She ducked her head, averting her gaze and struggling to find a response that fit his sweet statement.
"Nate," she began.
He touched her lips with his finger to silence her. "I made you uncomfortable. I'm sorry. Change of subject." His tone went brisk, businesslike. "There's something I'd like to show you today, maybe get your professional opinion."
