His to Claim

by Sierra Cartwright

  “You’re strong, Han.”

  She wrinkled her nose. “Not so much.”

  “Stronger than you think. You survived Liam. I think you can count on yourself to get through anything life throws at you.”

  The cost had been high. She’d kept to herself, insulated and alone, to protect her emotions.

  Not that it had helped.

  “I’m not telling you to do something rash.” Fiona batted her eyelashes.

  “But?” Hannah prompted.

  “What’s the risk? Really? You love New Orleans. You have no real attachments to Austin.”

  Especially not now that her mother had moved to Florida.

  “It’s worth considering. I’d really like having you closer. You can stay with me for as long as you need. Have a look at jobs online. And then…” She frowned. “No. Wait! I’ve got an idea. You are so going to appreciate my brilliance!” She brandished her straw, flicking drops of margarita across the table, not that she seemed to notice. “You can fly down for Western night and combine it with interviews.”

  How did Fiona make everything seem so easy?

  “It’s perfect. You’ll have a chance to see how it goes with Mason.” She toyed with her straw. “Maybe it was nothing and it won’t go anywhere, anyway. But at least you’d know. Right? You could date without having to live with him. Take him for a test drive, like you would a car.”

  Hannah scoffed at her friend’s ridiculous analogy.

  “Don’t you want to at least give it a try? Or do you want to spend your life wondering if something might have been possible?” She paused. “Or think about this. When you come for Western night, how will you feel if you see him with someone else?”

  A chill seeped down Hannah’s spine.

  Fiona’s cell phone rang, and she grinned, sliding around on her chair as if she were a schoolgirl. “It’s Andrew.”

  “Answer it.”

  “Are you sure you don’t mind?”

  “Of course not.” When Fiona still hesitated, Hannah picked up her phone and opened her favorite social media site. “Go!”

  “Okay. But I’ll be right back. Stay out of my margarita.” Then she swiped her answer button, and her voice was giddy as she said, “Hi, sweetums.”

  Sweetums?

  Fiona moved to the back wall, in the corner. Still, her friend’s giggle was audible. Hannah shook her head. Until Mr. Snorebox, no man had made Fiona giggle.

  Now that she didn’t have to make a show of being interested in checking her notifications, she turned her cellular device facedown.

  Fiona’s words haunted her.

  If she didn’t reach out to Mason, she might never know what her future held. He scared the hell out of her, asked too much. And maybe she was too distrustful to even give him a chance.

  But in the three weeks since she’d seen him, she’d never been more miserable.

  A few minutes later, Fiona returned, all but skipping across the floor. And she was blushing. “You look happy,” Hannah said

  “I am. At least for now. And I refuse to jinx it. The novelty may wear off in a week, and that would be okay. Don’t get me wrong, that’s not preferable. I really like him, so I’m going to see where it goes.”

  Fiona had said Hannah was stronger than she realized, but she wasn’t sure about that. Fiona was fearless in the face of potential hurt, something Hannah wasn’t sure she was capable of.

  “Here’s the deal—if I get my heart broke, you have to help me pick up the pieces.”

  “I think I owe you one or two.”

  “That’s what friends are for. Now that’s enough of that. We’re going to celebrate your birthday!” Fiona raised her glass. “I hope your year ahead is filled with joy.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Cheers, my friend.”

  They clinked their glasses together. The future was up to her, Hannah knew. Am I brave enough to do something about it?

  Chapter 11

  “Where’s your young lady?” Mason’s mother asked. “I thought she might come with you. I was looking forward to hearing what she had to say.”

  Along with Norman and Thoroughgood, they were back at the fixer-upper, and she had just secured the keys to the property. She wanted to have another look around and make sure she was still happy with the plans he’d drawn up for her. Like Hannah suggested, they were going to raise the roof and add a master suite and sitting area upstairs. Norman had suggested adding a deck, as well, to catch a breeze. Mason had to agree it was a good idea.

  His mom’s head was tipped to one side as she waited for his answer.

  “She’s back at home. In Austin.”

  “Texas?”

  Despite the fact that the house had a good air conditioner and it was working just fine, he was suddenly a little warm. “You’re not the only one who isn’t happy about it.”

  “When is she coming back? She seemed lovely. Not like that other…one.”

  “Deborah.”

  “Bless her heart.”

  He grinned. He had long suspected his mother didn’t care for Deborah, but she’d kept her opinions to herself.

  “Be sure to let me know when Hannah returns. I’d like to see her.”

  The lie came easily. “I will.” He didn’t have the heart to admit the truth to either of her or himself. Hannah wasn’t returning.

  “I want to look at the backyard,” she said. “Norman, will you walk with me?”

  “Certainly, dear.”

  The man deserved a medal. Despite the ninety-three-degree temperature and stifling humidity that made it difficult to move or think straight, Norman hadn’t hesitated.

  “That’s true love right there.” Thoroughgood loosened his tie after the two exited through the back door.

  “Glad she didn’t ask us to go with them.” He didn’t need to be involved with the garden plans. He worked with some of the best landscape companies in the city, all of whom were better at design than he was. “How’s the investment business?”

  “Growing.” Thoroughgood nodded. “Plans for your TV show debut?”

  “Still a long way from that, my friend.” He hadn’t even thought about it since Hannah left. In fact, he hadn’t done a whole hell of a lot of anything, except for hiring a crew to build the gazebo Hannah would never see.

  “Is your house available for a fundraiser? I want to send a couple of kids to football camp.”

  “What are you thinking?”

  “There was a lot of buzz about the house while you were renovating. I think we could sell tour tickets. Maybe champagne and caviar as a theme?”

  “Happy to help.” It was exactly the type of thing his father had thought about when making the purchase. Restoring it to its original splendor and opening the doors to share with the world. “I think you should find a few more homes. Five stops, if possible? Different foods at each? Champagne at one. Caviar at another. Chocolates. Cheese boards. Fruit. That kind of thing.”

  “This could be bigger than I thought.” The man nodded.

  “I can make some suggestions.” He was sure his mother would act as his hostess, but it would be nice if Hannah were there to help.

  “Okay if my assistant calls you?”

  “Sure.” How the hell would he juggle one more project?

  “You avoided your mother’s question.”

  Mason didn’t reply.

  “About Hannah. She made quite an impact.”

  Like his father before him, Mason had trusted Thoroughgood for many years. It wasn’t just because of his financial advice, but also his ability to be objective about life events. Though he couched things in the gentlest of terms, he didn’t hesitate to ask uncomfortable questions. He’d forced Mason and his father to face things they’d rather not—his will, end-of-life directives, funeral arrangements.

  If anyone would understand Mason’s dilemma with Hannah, it was Thoroughgood. And frankly, Mason needed a sounding board. The past few weeks had been some of the most difficult. Losin
g Deborah had stung, but she’d caused so much drama that part of him was relieved to go home at night and not face an argument.

  But Hannah had been stable, a breath of energy he hadn’t known he was missing. Often times, he imagined starting their day on the gallery, coffee in hand. Maybe followed by hot sex, just enough to hold him through the day when he could get back to her. “No idea.”

  “Something go wrong?”

  “Moved too fast, maybe.”

  “False start?”

  At the use of the football term—indicating an offensive player who moved across the line of scrimmage before the ball was snapped—Mason winced. “Should have allowed the game to progress at its own pace.”

  “There’s a penalty for that, for sure. But the game continues.” He clapped Mason on the back. “Unless you were an asshole, in which case, she should be done with you.”

  An asshole? He doubted even Hannah would call him that. Or maybe he was wrong. Impatient, for sure. He’d calculated badly, something he regretted every day.

  He should have asked permission to call her, done the polite thing and courted her. Eventually he could have suggested she fly down for a weekend. Taken it slow.

  But manners—his upbringing as a gentleman—had deserted him the face of her upset and what they’d shared.

  During their time together, she’d offered her body and her submissive surrender.

  The beginning of their relationship had been extraordinary, igniting his caveman responses. He wanted to stake his claim and protect her, slaying her dragons once and for all. When he tried, she pulled a protective shield around her heart. Instead of thinking it through, he’d reacted instead of taking a step back. He’d asked for a future while she was still working through her past.

  His mother breezed back in, followed by Norman. “Hannah made several suggestions when she was here. About the courtyard. I can’t find the napkin we did our drawings on. Mason, dear, do you remember what we decided?”

  He shook his head. “Sorry. I have no idea.” He’d been busy running a budget in his head, calculating if the house was going to be a disaster of an investment property.

  “I’m trying to remember about the fountain specifically. She suggested it have a number of tiers. We discussed concrete, I think. Or maybe it was metal. And she had ideas what to plant around it. Suggested we try to attract butterflies.”

  “I saved a video of you two talking,” Thoroughgood said. “If that’s any help?”

  “Oh John! You’re always thinking.”

  He grinned. “I like to have something to refer back to. Memory’s sketchy. Especially when you’ve taken as many hits to the head as I have.” He pulled out the cell phone that was tiny in his massive hands. Since his fingers were too big for the icons, he used a stylus to find and play the video.

  Everyone gathered around, and he held his phone in the middle of the semicircle.

  The sweet sound of Hannah’s voice rocked through Mason, making him remember her cries and whimpers.

  Damn, he missed her all over again.

  “Oh, that’s right!” Judith exclaimed when they reached the part where she and Hannah were discussing the courtyard. “Thank you. Mason, do you think I could ask Hannah a few questions? Send me her email address or telephone number?”

  “Sure, Mom.” He was certain she wouldn’t answer a message from him. But he could figure out a way to get hold of Fiona. If his guess was right, Hannah would be happy to speak with his mom.

  The conversation moved on and didn’t require his participation, which was a good thing because his brain was no longer engaged.

  “I need to get going,” his mother said. “Norman and I are going to painting class.”

  “Painting class?” He looked back and forth between the two. His mother beamed, and Norman grinned.

  “Maybe we can use some of our masterpieces to decorate this place. Norman, what do you think?”

  “Your…?” Mason ran out of words.

  “Today’s class is on sunsets. And they give us wine, too.”

  Thoroughgood cleared his throat. “Well, Ms. Sullivan, that’s sure a nice idea.”

  Mason kissed his mother’s cheek and shook Norman’s hand, something that was becoming easier each time they met.

  “We can’t let her do that,” Thoroughgood warned the moment the front door closed.

  “Not if they want to rent it out, no. I’ll let you be the one to tell her.”

  Thoroughgood shook his head furiously. “I think that’s rightly a son’s place.”

  “You are the family adviser.”

  They looked at each other.

  “Those walls will look mighty nice with Judith’s personal touches added,” Thoroughgood mused.

  “I’m sure they will.” Mason adjusted the thermostat before they left the house.

  Thoroughgood’s words about Hannah haunted Mason as he drove to his office.

  Maybe he’d given up too soon.

  He wasn’t sure how the hell to try again without scaring her more.

  By the time he reached the office, he had an idea.

  He called Thoroughgood. “Send me that video? I think Hannah will like it.”

  “You going to try for a touchdown with your lady friend, Mason?”

  At this point, he’d settle for a three-point field goal. “Yeah. May take some time. But yes.”

  “I signed up for a dating site.”

  “Are you kidding me?” Hannah held the phone away from her ear for a moment, unable to believe her mother’s words. “That’s awesome. I’m so happy for you!” To her knowledge, this was the first time her mother had even considered a relationship since her divorce more than twenty years prior. Ever since, she’d focused on her job and providing for Hannah.

  For a work promotion, Evelyn had recently transferred to Florida. Maybe the move had been a good one.

  While her mother talked about some of the men’s profiles, Hannah paced to the window and looked down at the pool area that was filled with people. Since it was a Saturday, a number of people were tanning in lounge chairs while others sipped cocktails beneath umbrellas. With the way the sun shimmered off the water, the whole area looked inviting.

  Maybe when she ended the call, she should head down, spent some time outdoors. There were a couple of vacant tables in the shade where she could stream another episode of her favorite home improvement show. Ever since she returned to Austin, she hadn’t been able to get enough of them. Last week, she binged the entire catalogue of one set in Texas, featuring a husband and wife who’d recently had their first baby.

  She’d watched others that were hosted by a single person. Mason was right. The ones with a couple were more engaging. It was not just about the project. She’d become invested in the couple and their dreams for their future. In one episode, they sold their starter home and bought a derelict farmhouse on acreage. Each time the credits scrolled at the end, she clicked start now for the next one. She had to see how the little boy’s bedroom turned out with its secret hidey-hole alcove. And she was dying to catch the big reveal of the master bathroom.

  Realizing her mother had lapsed into silence, Hannah shook her head. “How’s it going so far? Have you actually met any of them in person?”

  “No. It’s a complete waste of time and money.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “All men are the same.”

  Her mom’s words jolted her. Hannah had heard those words ever since she’d been a child. How much had they influenced and held her back? Was she guilty of believing that too?

  Hannah exhaled.

  Maybe. Maybe they had without her consciously being aware of it.

  “They’re selfish. Only after one thing, and you know what that is. As soon as they get it, they forget about you. Go find another skirt to chase. It’s all there in their profiles. Everyone my age is divorced. What does that tell you?”

  Before Hannah could respond, her mom continued. “None of them are interested in
marriage. They are all looking for a good time. Like your father.”

  “Not everyone is like him.” Mason, for example.

  “You’re smart to remain single, my girl. I closed my account before they could take any more money out of my bank.”

  “It couldn’t hurt to chat with a couple of matches, if there’s mutual interest.”

  Instead of responding, Evelyn changed the subject.

  They chatted for a few more minutes, discussing mundane topics such as the weather and the wilting heat before Evelyn said she needed to go and throw in a load of laundry.

  After they hung up, Hannah put the phone on the kitchen counter.

  She genuinely wanted her mom to be happy, but suspected it wouldn’t happen until Evelyn was willing to step out of her comfort zone.

  Damn.

  The realization rocked Hannah.

  Ever since her return to Texas, she’d been restless. Every day, she went to work. A few times a week, she went through obligatory paces at the gym or went to yoga class. She’d joined her colleagues for happy hour last night, but nothing she did banished the loneliness.

  Hannah told herself she was okay, pretended everything was fine when it was anything but.

  The truth was, she was desperately lonely.

  Maybe wallowing was okay for a while, but at some point, if she wanted to be happy, she couldn’t allow her past to dictate her future.

  She pulled her hair back.

  Fiona was right. Hannah was strong. The first couple of months after leaving Liam had been rocky, but she’d managed. There was no doubt she’d have plenty of other challenges in front of her, but she could survive whatever came her direction.

  She wanted to thrive. That meant seizing new opportunities, even though they came with risk.

  Maybe she would look at job postings in the New Orleans area, even consider asking her employer if it was possible to work remotely. It might be possible for her to sublet her apartment in case things didn’t work out.

  She snatched up her phone again to call Fiona.

  “Hey, girl! I was going to call you this morning, you know, when I wasn’t tied up!” She giggled.

  And Hannah knew her friend meant it quite literally. “I’m not envious at all.”