The question was a rhetorical one, and she didn’t bother to answer him as he swung her up in his arms and carried her to her bedroom. Housekeeping had been in to turn down the covers of the bed and flick on the lamp beside it, bathing the room in soft light.
Still holding her in his arms, Will dipped his face into her neck and said, “You smell good. Like springtime and flowers.”
How could anyone resist such words, offered with utter sincerity by a man who gazed down at her in admiration?
He lowered her legs and, still holding her by the waist, let her slide down the length of him. Then, resting both hands on her shoulders, he eased her onto the bed, dropping to one knee before her, raising the inside of her wrist to his lips for a soft heartfelt kiss.
He raised his head and forced her to meet his eyes. “I wish I could have prevented what he did to you. If I could go back and change it—”
She pressed a finger to his lips. “Will, I don’t want to think about the past tonight.”
There in the quiet haven of the elegant hotel room, he kissed the tip of that finger, then leaned forward and pressed his lips to the skin above the neck of her dress. “Then we won’t,” he said in a husky voice.
And they didn’t.
Chapter Fifty-seven
A shaft of moonlight illuminated the bed. On the streets below, a siren wailed. In the sanctuary of their room, Hannah lay curled against Will, her braid on the pillow, her hair fanned out behind her. He rubbed her lower lip with his thumb, then leaned closer to press a kiss to her mouth.
She pulled back and said softly, “Would it have been like that ten years ago?”
He folded her closer. “I just wish we hadn’t waited so long to find out.”
“Me, too,” she said.
Two hours later, they got dressed in casual clothes, then strolled through the lobby hand in hand and went outside to jump in a cab. Will claimed he knew a place that was the world’s best all-night bagel shop. Once there, they climbed up on a pair of stools and proceeded to tuck away four between them.
“You might have to carry me back to the hotel,” she complained, resting a hand against her stomach.
“It’d be my pleasure, if the reward’s good enough.”
She sent him a look that had him wiping a napkin across his mouth, jumping off the stool and swinging her into his arms. He pretended to stumble a bit, then headed out of the shop in search of a taxi, oblivious to the looks of the other patrons in the shop. She laughed and knew a rush of joy more heady than anything she’d ever known.
Once back in the room, he ran a bath for her, ordered a bottle of champagne and then finally convinced her to let him sit on the edge of the tub while she soaked with bubbles up to her neck. He told her stories about the time his entire football team had spent the night in the same hotel only to leave when the manager almost suffered a nervous breakdown after one of the players let the tub overflow and leak through to the next floor.
She laughed and said, “You’d never do anything like that, I know.”
He reached out and touched her cheek. “Only if my mind were on something else.”
“Such as?” she asked a little breathlessly.
He leaned over and kissed her. “Such as the thought of climbing in there with you.”
Years of modesty prevented her from extending him an invitation, in spite of what they’d just shared. She looked down at the thinning bubbles and said, “I doubt if we’d both fit.”
He stood up and dropped the towel that had been draped around his hips. “Mind if we try?”
Hannah looked up at him, heat racing through her. “I guess it can’t hurt to try.”
He slid in behind her, his chest to her back. She tilted her head to one side as his lips found the curve of her neck. She sighed and said, “I think this will do.”
“I’d have to agree.”
The next morning, Will ordered room service for breakfast, and they sat there on the bed, sipping coffee and orange juice, watching the sun come up over the city.
Hannah savored every single moment, wishing they could stay here forever.
It was well after noon by the time they left the hotel. A typical spring day in the nation’s capital. The cherry trees had begun to bloom. Joggers made their way up and down Pennsylvania Avenue. Everything seemed fresh and clean, new and wondrous.
The newness of that day was appropriate. That was exactly how Hannah felt. As though she had been reborn into a woman who could feel, want, need. And even give.
They spent a few hours walking through the city, and it was well after five by the time they went back to the hotel.
“What do you say to room service for dinner?” Will asked once they were back in the room and lying on the bed together.
“I say that sounds wonderful,” she said, nestling into the crook of his arm, determined to keep the future at bay for just a little while longer.
They left the city around ten the next morning. But the closer they got to Lake Perdue, the thicker the silence between them hung. Will reached for Hannah’s hand once or twice, but he seemed as preoccupied as she was. She felt as though the separation between them had already begun.
Her mind shied away from thoughts of what lay ahead, and yet she knew she couldn’t avoid them forever. He would soon be leaving Lake Perdue. That much was a certainty now. Dr. Edwards was in Washington. And that’s where Will would be, as well.
She knew he would have to go. And a part of her had already begun to grieve at the thought of losing him.
When he pulled to a stop in front of her house that afternoon, he turned to her, his eyes asking questions he had not yet voiced. He reached across and rubbed a lock of her hair between his fingers, asking gently, “You want to tell me what’s wrong?”
She focused on the roses by the front porch, unsure what to say now that the stretch of time that had been completely theirs had come to an end. She cleared her throat and reached for the door handle. “I know you’ll be anxious to get home, so I’ll—”
“Hannah,” he said with a frown, reaching out to stop her. “You’ve barely said two words since we left Washington. What is it?”
“I should go now.”
“Just like that?” he asked with a look of amazement. “You’re planning to leave just like that?”
She glanced away, unable to meet that disconcerting gaze, seeing in it what they had shared, what she might never know again.
“Don’t you think it would be easier that way?”
“What would be easier?”
She leaned back against the seat and closed her eyes, voicing aloud what was only too obvious to her. “You going your way and me going mine.”
He remained silent a moment before shaking his head and saying, “No. I don’t think that would be easier.”
“Our lives are about to take separate directions, regardless of what happened between us this weekend.”
He tilted her face toward him and studied her for a long moment. “What happened between us meant everything to me, Hannah.”
She looked down at the floor in an effort to hide the pleasure those words brought her. She believed that here and now, in this moment, he meant it. But that didn’t change the fact that he had his own life to lead. When she looked up again, her voice held no indication of the turmoil taking place inside her. “It was special, Will. But I think we ought to step back for a day or two and see what happens. For the past couple of days we’ve been living in a fantasy world. This is reality for me. Reality for you right now is Dr. Edwards. Go home and make your plans, and then we’ll see where we fit in. Okay?”
He sat there and stared at her for several seconds. She could see the indecision on his face. The knowledge that what had happened between them this weekend was special. The further knowledge that he’d been handed an opportunity to prove to himself that he could be so much more than he’d ever allowed himself to believe. Finally he answered, “That’s not how I want it.”
“T
hings have happened so fast. How can you be sure?”
“I don’t know. But I am.”
She forced herself not to throw her arms around his neck. When she spoke, she struggled for a note of conviction. “We should take a couple of days. You need to think. And so do I.”
He studied her for a long time before he nodded and said, “All right. We’ll give it a couple of days. If you think that’s what you need.”
She swallowed the lump of emotion in her throat, blinked and smiled brightly enough to convince him she believed this was the right thing. He’d agreed. Wasn’t that what she’d wanted?
“Thank you, Will. For this weekend. For everything.” And with that she scooted out of the Cherokee, reached for her bag in the back seat and headed for the front door. She didn’t want to give herself a chance to consider what she’d just done.
Chapter Fifty-eight
Will drove home that night well under the speed limit. Down Main Street, past Tate’s and finally over the little knoll that opened up onto Tarkington’s Cove. He barely noticed the sights or sounds of Lake Perdue, this town he’d once again come to love.
Most people would have been bored stiff with it after living in one of the country’s most vibrant cities. But not Will. He loved it here. The people. The space around him. The fact that he didn’t have to worry about some kid pulling a knife on him for his tennis shoes.
Lake Perdue was not Los Angeles. And Hannah was not like Grace or any other woman he’d ever dated. But he’d grown to love both this town and the woman who’d been little more than a girl when he’d left so many years before.
Her name played over and over in his head that night as he lay in bed. Hannah. Hannah.
He’d never known anything like what they’d had. He’d had several lovers. But they’d never been friends first. He and Hannah had become friends. Two people who had something to offer one another. Two people with holes in their souls that had done a lot of healing in the past couple of months. And as lovers, the passion between them had been all the more gratifying. More than he’d ever imagined. Being with Hannah, he’d known a sense of belonging that he’d experienced few times in his life. Known the rightness that comes when two people touch, body and soul.
And now, just when he’d found that, he’d also been offered an opportunity to prove to himself that he could be more than a dumb jock whose career had ended. He could do something worthwhile, something that didn’t involve football.
He lay there in the dark, knowing that he had to go to Washington, certain that he couldn’t lose what he and Hannah had found.
For the first time in years, Will wished he could talk to his father about it. Like any normal son. Maybe he would try. One more time. What did he have to lose?
The next morning he drove out to his father’s house shortly after nine. He’d been ready to go at seven-thirty, but didn’t, not wanting his father to suspect how the situation troubled him.
He let himself in through the back door, startling Aunt Fan who let out a cry and then clasped him in both arms and squeezed. “Land sakes, what’re you doing here so early, boy?”
“Smelled that bacon clear into town, Aunt Fan. Got anymore?”
She grinned. “Won’t take me but a minute to throw on a few more strips. You sit down. I’ll call your daddy.”
Will pulled back one of the bar stools and propped an elbow on the counter while she went to the kitchen doorway and yelled, “John! You come on down. Will’s here.”
She bustled back, opened the refrigerator door, pulled out a Tupperware container of bacon and began forking strips into the already heating pan. “Haven’t seen too much of you lately. What’s been keepin’ you so busy?”
Before he could answer, John Kincaid strode into the room, a look of surprise on his face. “Will. I thought I must have heard Fannie wrong. What’s got you out so early, son?” he asked uneasily as he finished knotting his tie.
“I wanted to talk to you, Dad, if you’ve got time.”
John glanced at his watch and, with a nod, lowered himself onto the stool opposite him. “Got a few minutes.”
Fannie looked at Will and then, wiping her hands on her apron, headed for the doorway.
“No, Aunt Fan, you stay. I want you to hear this, too.”
She checked her steps, then went back to her bacon.
“I went up to Washington this past weekend to see a doctor.”
John’s eyebrows shot upward in the first gesture of alarm Will had seen on his face in years. “What? About the knee?”
Will shook his head.
“You sick, son?”
Feeling awkward and uncertain now that the time had come to voice his problem, he decided to be straightforward. “No, I’m dyslexic, Dad.”
The only sound in the kitchen was the sound of bacon frying. John frowned. “Dyslexic? Isn’t that when people read backward?”
Will inclined his head. “Sometimes. I have a certain form of it. It’s why I never learned as fast as others in school.” He hesitated and then added bluntly, “It’s why I never learned to read the way I should have.”
Color suffused John’s cheeks. “Never learned to read? What do you mean? You were just slower than-”
“No, Dad,” Will said. “I learned enough to get by in school. That’s all. After a certain point we stopped talking about it. I always felt you were ashamed of me. And I guess I was ashamed of myself, too. School was a nightmare for me. When I got drafted to play ball, I told myself I’d never have to worry about it again. Maybe that’s why I was so driven by football. As long as I was a success in it, I didn’t have to face my shortcomings. But that’s when it all began, really. Paying off lawyers to keep my secret. Hoping I could trust the people I’d hired to handle my finances.”
John Kincaid stared at his son with a look of open-mouthed shock. “You couldn’t read?”
“Only to a certain level.”
Will looked up to find Aunt Fan staring at him with love and sympathy. She moved the few steps necessary to pat his arm. That one gesture came as close to telling Will that everything would be all right as a whole book of words might have.
John’s mouth worked silently, but he couldn’t seem to push the response past his lips. He finally managed a hoarse, “Why didn’t you ever tell me, Will?”
“You want an honest answer, Dad? I was afraid of what you’d think of me. In sports, you were always proud of me. I didn’t want to give you reason to be ashamed. So I guess it seemed easier to let everyone think I was the typical jock, too much in love with football to pay much attention to academic subjects.”
John Kincaid looked away, his voice gruff when he said, “I always wanted you to have both, son.”
“I know you did. That’s why I felt like I’d failed you.”
“So now what?”
“There’s a doctor in Washington who specializes in this type of problem. He thinks he can help me.”
“You’d live there?”
“For as long as I needed to, yes. I’ve got a lot of work to do on myself.”
John looked down at the counter, but not in time for Will to miss the flash of guilt in his eyes. When he raised his head again, it was gone. “So when are you leaving?”
“There’s a small hitch in the plan, Dad.”
Puzzled, John said, “What?”
“I’m in love with Hannah Jacobs, and I want to marry her—if she’ll have me.”
Had Will announced he’d been chosen to run in the next presidential campaign, John Kincaid could not have looked more shocked. “You what?”
“Hannah was with me this weekend. She’s the reason I went to see that doctor in the first place. We had a great time. But she thinks we ought to spend a couple of days apart and see what happens. It wasn’t what I wanted, but I agreed.”
“Hannah Jacobs?” John repeated as if he still couldn’t believe he’d heard Will correctly.
“I love her, Dad.” The words were firm, but he still wanted his fa
ther’s approval. After all these years, he still needed it.
John’s gaze remained steady as he said, “You sure that would be the wisest thing right now? Sounds like you’ll need to be awfully focused the next few months.”
Will nodded. “I’m not telling myself it’ll be easy. But I know what life is like not being able to read. I don’t think I want to know what it’ll be like without Hannah now that I’ve found her.” He looked up to find Aunt Fan beaming at him. The nod she sent his way went a long way toward making up for his father’s negative reaction.
Tapping a thumb on the counter, John said, “Sounds like Hannah might be on to something. Give yourself a few days to cool off.”
Will looked up at his father, realizing this was as close to a blessing as he was going to get. Leaving the bacon on his plate untouched, he pushed away from the counter and stood up. “I already know how I feel, Dad. But I guess I’ll have to wait and see if she feels the same.”
John remained silent.
“I’m going to L.A. for a couple days to get things straight with Dan and tie up a few loose ends. I’ll call when I get back.”
He got up and gave Aunt Fan a hug. She smiled and said, “You come back soon. And bring Hannah with you next time.”
Will nodded and raised a hand at his father, wondering why, as he closed the back door behind him, the familiar sense of disappointment surprised him.
Hannah let herself in her front door that night feeling as though she’d just run a marathon. She’d spent most of the day on the bookmobile, driving out by Silas Creek on the far edge of the county, making stops at the Methodist church and Sally’s Food Mart along the way. She’d deliberately kept herself running at full throttle, determined not to dwell on the questions prodding her from every angle.
But despite her efforts, her doubts sat like weights on her shoulders, pulling her down until she wondered if she might just sink beneath them. She imagined a thousand different scenarios of what lay ahead for her and Will. But the same theme threaded its way through each one. Will would leave Lake Perdue. He had no choice. He’d been offered an opportunity to turn his life around, to prove to himself that he was a capable, intelligent man.
Truths and Roses Page 20
