by Jill Shalvis
As if that had been what he’d been waiting for, he rolled them, tucking her beneath him, pinning her to the bed.
“Your turn?” she asked breathlessly.
“Yeah. My turn.” His body was hard and muscular and felt so good against hers. “Pretty,” he said of her sundress, and nudged the spaghetti straps down her elbows, baring her to the waist. He smiled at her breasts. “Even prettier.”
She was busy trying to get his shorts off, but his clever hands were working on driving her crazy, and it was a short drive. Then he completely derailed her when he went on a southbound tour of her body. With his mouth.
“Mmm,” he murmured, pushing the skirt of her dress up. “Hold that for me.”
She mindlessly grabbed the material, and then in the next breath gasped, her head thrown back on his pillow as he slid off her panties, kissed her ankle just above the anklet he’d put on her, and then proceeded north to have his merry way with her.
She was still trying to find her way back to her own body when he lifted his head, bracing himself on his forearms above her. Reaching up, she entangled her hands in his hair and tugged him to her.
With a rough groan, he kissed her wildly until she was once again on the very edge, and then he produced a condom—thank god one of them was thinking—and finally slid home.
Breathless, heart pounding, she gazed up at him to find him staring right back at her, clearly just as moved. She drew a shaky breath. “I don’t get how you do this to me.”
“It’s you, Hannah.” His voice was husky. “It’s all you. You’re amazing. And you make me feel . . .”
“What?” She was struggling now for words, but she wanted to know. Needed to know. “I make you feel . . . what?”
“Everything,” he said roughly, a warm hand caressing one side of her neck and throat while his lips nuzzled the other side. Then he began to move, a slow, torturous grind, head back, eyes closed, sheer undiluted pleasure in every line of his face. When he opened his eyes and whispered her name, she lost herself in him, completely.
Just as when she was with him like this, she also felt . . . found.
Chapter 9
James opened his eyes, and in spite of the fact that Hannah had just blown his mind and melted all his bones, he managed to lift his head and run a finger along her temple, tucking a stray strand of hair from her eyes so he could see into them. “Hey,” he murmured.
She smiled lazily, looking so sated it boosted his ego. “Hey,” she murmured back.
He smiled. “Wish I could go back and tell teenage James that being with you is even better than I imagined. And trust me, I imagined a lot.”
That won him a laugh, which with Hannah felt like a huge victory. He knew there wasn’t much light in her world, and if he couldn’t change that, he could at least make her feel as good as he possibly could. To that goal, he nibbled his way to her mouth, and was kissing her and loving the little breathy whimpers for more when a sudden knock had her nearly leaping right out of his arms. “Shh,” he murmured, running his hands up and down her back. “It’s okay.”
“It’s not okay!” she whispered back, eyes wide. “You know who that probably is!”
And indeed, Harry’s voice came through the door. “See you at dawn for fishing, yeah?”
“Yep,” James called out, trying not to laugh because Hannah had dived beneath the covers. “First thing.”
“Okay then. Night, James.” He paused. “Night, Smalls.”
Hannah tugged the blanket off her face, grimaced, then called out, “Night, Dad.”
After her dad’s footsteps had faded away, she sat up. “Oh my god. If our moms were here, they’d already be planning our wedding.”
James snorted because that was true.
“This isn’t funny. He’s going to think we’re a we now.”
“Probably.” James kissed his way down her throat. “What’s wrong with that?”
“Right this moment?” she asked breathlessly, moaning when he added his hands to the fray. “Absolutely nothing.”
Later, they dozed, wrapped up in each other. At some point, James awoke with a smile on his face and couldn’t remember ever feeling so relaxed and happy. At the odd movement next to him, he cracked open an eye and found Hannah sitting up beside him, working on her phone. Stretching, he slid an arm across her and tucked her into him.
She didn’t even look over, just kept typing while also giving a huge, jaw-cracking yawn.
Huh. Guess he was alone in that relaxed and happy state. “How long have you been up?”
“Oh, I haven’t gone to sleep yet.” She yawned again, looking completely done in.
“I could’ve sworn you fell asleep after that last orgasm.”
She smiled. “Yeah, and thanks for those, by the way. It’s been a while. Sorry if I was rusty.”
“You were perfect.” He kissed her shoulder. “You really haven’t slept?”
“No, I waited for you to fall asleep so I wouldn’t bug you.”
He lifted his head and met her gaze. “That wouldn’t bug me. What does is your working in the middle of the night when you’re exhausted and could use some rest.”
“I’m not exhausted—” She broke off for yet another yawn and then flushed. “Okay, so I’m a little tired.”
“You mean dead on your feet.”
She smiled ruefully. “I’ve got to do this. These are a few new cases I’m getting preliminary info together for that I’ll need right after the New Year.”
He nodded, starting to catch on. It’d taken him long enough. “There’s always going to be another patient, isn’t there?”
“Well, yeah,” she said, sparing him a quick glance. “It’s the nature of the job, which is what I love about it.”
“Because it allows you to bury yourself in work and never really live for yourself?”
Again she looked up, this time with a small frown. “I thought you understood.”
“Because of what happened to Jason?”
“Yes.”
He nodded, but then slowly shook his head. “No. Jason had regrets, Hannah—so many regrets. In the end, he was angry at himself for not living his life for anything beyond the job. I’d hate that for you.”
“I don’t have regrets.” She paused and let her phone fall into her lap. “Look, I know it’s a holiday week and most people are off from work, but today’s going to be busy and my boss will probably need my help. But believe me, I get your frustration. It’s an impossible situation, and why I don’t really date. It’s too hard to juggle it all, and in the end I always feel forced to choose between my job and a guy.”
“So you chose the job?”
“Well, yeah,” she said. “Because it’s easier than facing the fact that I’m never quite . . . enough for someone.”
Damn. She always got him right in the gut. “Hannah, you’re more than enough.”
“Am I, though? Because you’d like me to change. You’d like me to set down this phone and maybe have a repeat of what we did earlier.”
That brought a brief smile to his lips. “Never doubt that. But that’s not what this is about.”
“Working hard is a source of pride for me, James. It’s all I know.”
He knew this was true. She’d basically raised her mom and stepdad, both of whom were decent people, but also selfish and at times incredibly immature. He had no idea how to make that any different for her. He couldn’t change the past, but maybe he could help Future Hannah, even if just a little. “You’re tired,” he said quietly. “Why don’t you get a couple of hours’ sleep?”
She nodded agreeably but picked her phone back up. “In a few minutes, I promise.”
He lay back and waited. Ten minutes went by. Then another ten. After thirty more, he slipped out of bed, pulled on his clothes, and left.
All without her so much as looking up.
Chapter 10
Hannah was so good at hyperfocusing that she could completely tune out her surroundings,
and she did so—until she heard the door close. Blinking, she looked around.
The bed had been decimated.
And James had left.
The thought gave her a pang. As usual, she’d lost track of time. She needed to go after him, and would. Soon as she finished up this one last work email.
Only that didn’t happen.
What did happen was that she came awake a few hours later with a gasp. She’d fallen asleep. It was now eight in the morning and she had a crick in her neck from sleeping half sitting up, nose in her phone. But as for the rest of her body, she had no complaints there, because she was deliciously boneless, thanks to James’s careful attentiveness. Just thinking about it kicked her pulse back into gear.
Knowing they’d agreed to have breakfast on the deck, she jumped out of bed, took a quick shower, and dressed, then hurried up the stairs.
The day was stunning. Turquoise waters stretched as far as the eye could see, still and crystal clear. The air was thick and warm. The only sounds were the occasional squawks of seabirds and the gentle lap of water against the hull. As she took it all in, her heart rate slowed and she took a deep, relaxed breath. How she’d ever forgotten how beautiful it was out here, she had no idea.
Making her way to the galley, she smiled in surprise at Sally, who was at the sink.
“Hey,” Hannah said, “it’s my turn to make breakfast. What would you like?”
“Too late,” Sally said with a wink and a smile. “I’ve got everything almost ready. Food’s plated and covered and on a table on the aft deck.”
Hannah kissed Sally on the cheek and made her way to the aft deck, stopping short at the table set romantically for two. With a sigh, she slid a look to Sally, who’d followed her out with a pitcher of orange juice. “There are no secrets on this ship.”
“None,” the woman said with a laugh as she walked off.
Hannah sat and waited for James, surprised that he hadn’t beaten her here. He loved breakfast. Actually, he loved all food, and he was a definite morning person.
But he didn’t show. She knew he wasn’t in bed, since she’d been in it until twenty minutes ago. She started to go look for him, but her phone rang. Work. After a ten-minute call, she texted James: you okay?
Her dad came out from the bridge and sat down. “Hey there.” He lifted the lid on her still-untouched breakfast and stole her sourdough toast.
“Hey,” she said.
“You know there are only two kinds of people on this boat. The quick . . . and the hungry.”
“Uh-huh,” she said dryly. Her phone was buzzing, so she stole a quick look at it, hoping it was James.
It wasn’t.
“So . . . “ Her dad looked oddly uncomfortable. “Uh . . . nice weather, right?”
“Yes.” It took her a moment to realize his dilemma. He wanted to ask how she was, but didn’t want to hear about last night with James.
Since she didn’t want to tell him any more than he wanted to hear about it, she decided to take the lead. “How are you?”
“Great,” he said.
Great. He felt good and she felt weighed down by the divorce papers still in her cabin. “So.”
“So,” he said with a nod.
She sighed. “Look, this is dumb. Let’s just get this over with. You were drinking pretty heavily last night.”
“We were anchored. I needed to blow off some steam.”
“Okay . . .” So there wasn’t going to be an apology. “How was fishing? Have you seen James?”
“Yeah, and the fishing was great. We caught dinner. Oh, and he told me about his plans to expand. He said I could be one of his subcontractors. He’d book boating adventures using The Therapist when he could. He’s dealing with high rollers, so the profit margin would be amazing.”
“Dad, Mom told me recently that your doctor had asked you to think about slowing down, maybe even selling and retiring. High blood pressure, remember? And clearly the responsibility gets to you, at least sometimes.” Like last night . . .
He waved this off just as her phone buzzed again.
“Should have left that thing in my hat,” Harry said.
She blew out a breath. “It’s my boss, Cynthia. Should only take a sec.”
Harry was sipping his coffee when she finished the call. “Sorry,” she said to Harry. “There might be some more of that today. The case I’ve been working on is going before a judge later. Everything’s ready, but I’ll want to find out how it went.”
He nodded. “I like listening to you. You’re smart, capable. Your work is important to you.”
“Yes.”
He nodded again. “This boat and the ocean are important to me in the same way. I’m not going to stop any more than you’re going to stop trying to save the world.”
She sighed. “I get it.”
James appeared, wearing another pair of board shorts, these a dark navy blue paired with a white T-shirt that read May the Fish Be with You!
Harry pulled a ten from his pocket and waved it at him. “You were right. Your black grouper was bigger by half a pound. Bragging rights are all yours.”
James grinned. “Good to know.”
“Where were you?” Hannah asked him.
He turned to look at her, his eyes behind dark sunglasses, his thoughts hidden. “Figured you were working.”
“Oh, she was,” Harry said ever so helpfully.
“We were going to meet for breakfast,” Hannah said. “I took a quick call while I was waiting, that’s all.”
Which was, of course, when her damn phone began to vibrate again, having a seizure on the table.
James raised a brow.
Harry gave a cough and laughed into his hand.
Hannah stared at the two men in her life as the epiphany hit her in the face. She’d been on both of them about their lifestyle choices, and yet here she was right before Christmas, living at the whim of her phone. “Pot, meet kettle,” she muttered beneath her breath.
“What was that, Smalls?”
Before she could answer, Sally called out from the bridge with a question. Her dad got up to have that conversation, and Hannah tucked her phone away.
“What if you miss something?” James said.
That was the crux of it. She was missing something—life. And it wasn’t like she could do anything more for today’s hearing. “Work can wait a bit,” she said.
For the first time since she’d been in James’s arms the night before, he met her gaze, pushing his sunglasses to the top of his head to give her a small but utterly genuine smile that warmed her from toes to roots. He leaned in and put his mouth to her ear. “That’s the sexiest thing you’ve ever said to me.”
“I thought telling you about my crush on you was pretty sexy.”
“You’re right. Scratch that. Everything you say is sexy.”
“Welp.” Harry came back to the table but didn’t sit. “I’m off. I got stuff to do.”
“Wait,” Hannah said. “Can we talk later?”
“What were we just doing?”
Hannah grimaced. “I’ve got more to talk about.”
Harry sighed. “I’m not retiring, Smalls. Period. Now, it’s almost Christmas. We pick up our families in San Juan tomorrow. Fun only for the rest of the trip, you hear me?”
“Come on,” she said slowly. “How realistic is that?”
“I suppose about as realistic as your being here as my gift,” he said. “See you two later. Enjoy your breakfast.” He looked at Hannah. “Or at least try.” And with that, he headed off to the galley.
Hannah looked at James.
He shrugged. “Maybe he suspects the truth, in which case another few hours in denial before you crush him won’t hurt. Besides, have you not seen the way Sally looks at him?”
“Yeah, but he doesn’t look at her that way.”
James nudged a chair back from the table with a foot and sat. “Given the news you’re here to deliver, maybe you can help him start to look at h
er that way.”
“He needs to sell the boat.”
He gave her a get-real look. “This boat is his life. What would he do without it?”
Hannah leaned forward. “Listen, you might not have heard, but he’s had a couple of health scares. Him being out here, far from medical care, drinking at night like he is . . . My biggest fear is that something will happen when he’s out here alone.”
“Have you asked him what his biggest fear is? Because I’d bet it’s being landlocked with nothing to do. He loves the water, Hannah. Lives for it.”
She sagged back and sighed. “I know. He loves it above all else.” Including me . . . “I just don’t want to lose him.”
“I understand that,” he said. “Maybe more than anyone, but living for the sake of living isn’t going to cut it, not for a guy like him.”
Their gazes met, his hooded from her now. “James, what’s going on?”
“What do you mean?”
“You blew me off this morning.”
“To be honest, I wasn’t sure if you’d notice whether I was here or not.”
She was dumbstruck. “What are you talking about?”
“Last night I barely had the condom off before you had your phone in hand. Let’s just say I got the message.”
“I just needed to get something done before I could go to sleep, is all.”
He shook his head. “I waited at least thirty minutes before I headed out. You didn’t even notice I was gone.”
“I’m so sorry.” She drew in a breath, embarrassed. “I did hear you go. I promised myself I’d go after you the minute I finished an email, but I fell asleep. You could’ve said something when you left.”
“Let’s just say you were focused, and not on me.”
“Okay,” she said, nodding, because if she was being honest, she’d heard this sort of thing before from . . . well, just about every guy she’d ever dated. “I’m single-minded. I can work on that.”
He gave her an unreadable look. “Your job’s important to you, Hannah, and it should be. I love how passionate you are. But last night . . . it felt special to me.” He paused and made sure he had her attention. “Really special. Then I realized I was in it alone.”