“Yes. Matt is a good, smart, savvy businessman. He’d make a good husband for Hannah, not like that flake she married.”
“Luke, don’t start,” Nikki warned.
Hannah didn’t know Luke was acquainted with Matt, but that wasn’t the point she wanted to make.
“You never even met Larry.” She practically spat the words at her brother—probably because he was spot-on and she hated his being right. “And I’m not looking for another...actually, just no. I’m not talking about this with you or anyone right now.”
Before Luke could respond, Hannah stormed off to find Shaun and Melissa and beg them to take her home.
* * *
THE NEXT DAY she was still in a foul mood—angry with her family but even angrier with herself and her hyped-up libido, which hadn’t allowed her a wink of sleep. Despite being physically exhausted from early pregnancy, her mind brimmed with thoughts of Matt’s lips teasing hers. She couldn’t get the idea of sleeping with him out of her head. Hell, she couldn’t get the idea of him out of her head. She’d never felt this way about Larry. Then again, she’d married him within twenty-four hours of meeting him, so there’d been no thrill of the chase there.
Frustrated in more ways than one, Hannah dragged herself out of bed, indulged in a long, hot shower and followed up with a large cup of coffee, the first she’d had since she’d seen the positive on the pregnancy test. She hoped the little bundle would cope, but some sins were necessary—this was the lesser of two evils.
Sitting at the kitchen table, she stared at her reflection in the window and decided she looked ready to head down to Elliot’s for a day of schmoozing potential clients. But looks could be deceiving. Hannah already knew her head would be up in the clouds all day trying to lure her over to the dark side in which she relented and let the Italian show her a little festive cheer.
“Oh.” She moaned out loud at the thought and quivered at the rush of warmth flooding her body. Wasn’t it the second trimester when her sex drive was meant to ramp up? And it wasn’t as if she’d been in a drought for long. She had absolutely no excuse.
“You okay, honey?” Her mum chose that moment to waltz into the kitchen.
“Yeah. Fine.” She swallowed, trying to summon moisture to her mouth, stood and crossed the room to dump her mug into the sink. “Just realized I’ve forgotten someone’s Christmas present.”
“Hope it’s not mine,” Emily chirped.
“No, ’course not. See ya, Mum.” With that, she pressed a quick kiss against her mum’s cheek and fled the house.
It was a short walk to Elliot’s from home and one she didn’t need to take because any one of her brothers would have picked her up, but she relished time alone to think and the opportunity to work off some of her pent-up frustration. The solution to her little problem appeared loud and clear once she was in the fresh summer air—she should sleep with Matt and get him out of her system.
There. A simple plan with only a couple of potholes.
Quite aside from the fact that she’d been vocal and definite in her refusal of him, she was pregnant with someone else’s baby. Even if he did only want a fling—and by his words and actions, she concluded that was the case—the pregnant thing made her an unlikely candidate. She had to admit she was tempted not to tell him, to indulge in one last hurrah before she got serious about life and motherhood, but the more sensible option was to tell him.
If he was a typical male, she’d only need to say the word baby and he’d run a mile.
* * *
HAVING PICKED UP the keys to his mum’s Christmas present from the real estate agent early, Matt headed to the house to wait for the arrival of the new furniture from Elliot’s. He contemplated stopping in at the emporium under the guise of checking if everything was ready to be delivered, but forced himself to ignore the urge. If Hannah was there, the real reason for his visit would be obvious and although he wasn’t exactly playing hard to get, neither did he want to cross into stalker territory.
Just the thought of her had muscles tightening all over his body and his blood rushing south. He’d have sworn after he’d pulled back from that kiss last night that she’d have run after him. Never before had his kisses failed to leave a woman begging for more, but Hannah wasn’t falling at his feet.
Instead she was confusing the hell out of him.
Usually if a girl didn’t seem interested, he wouldn’t push it, moving on to another prospect instead, but he couldn’t get Hannah out of his head. She was his every thought when he was awake, and during the night he dreamed of her. It had to be because she was playing so difficult to get. There were plenty of pretty girls in Wildwood Point, many of whom he guessed would jump at the chance for a holiday fling with an out-of-towner, others who were merely passing through themselves, but if he couldn’t have Hannah, he wasn’t interested.
This was a shock to his system.
Parking his rental car on the hilly driveway, he climbed out and took a moment to survey the scene in front of him. The house was as close to perfect as you could get—not too big, not too small, a combo of mod and historic with the sweetest view of the ocean in town. At least he knew he’d be making one woman happy this Christmas. He let himself in with the key and began switching on the lights. Vacant for months, since the previous owner had passed away, the house felt stuffy and he decided the first thing to do was to get the windows open. If the sea breeze didn’t do the trick, there was always the air-conditioning.
As he opened the curtains in the front lounge room, he saw a large truck with Elliot’s Emporium scrawled on it in a fancy font park on the driveway. For one stupid second he wondered if—hoped—Hannah would be part of the delivery team, but as two brawny blokes leaped out, his heart sank. Heading back to the door, he racked his brain to find a way of running into her today. He’d been lucky at the movies, and the whole town went down to the park for the tree and carols so last night had been a sure bet, but he didn’t think there was anything special on tonight. Nothing he was invited to, anyway. And although she’d likely be in church tomorrow night for the Christmas Eve service, he didn’t fancy waiting until then.
“Hi,” he called to the Elliot’s delivery team as he opened the front door. They were already nearing the house, carrying an ornate hand-carved headboard between them. Matt’s mind flickered back to a few days ago in the showroom and his groin immediately tightened again with the thought of kissing Hannah. Yep, no way was he waiting until tomorrow night.
“Afternoon,” said the man Matt guessed was in charge. They carefully laid the headboard on the front veranda, giving Matt the chance to read his badge. He recognized the name Shaun as the youngest Elliot brother. He had the same curly brown hair as Hannah and the oldest brother, whom Matt recalled playing football with the year before he’d moved to Melbourne. “Have you decided where you want all your furniture to go?”
Matt realized Shaun was talking to him and that, no, he hadn’t given any thought to such a thing. “Yeah,” he lied. “Do you want me to give you a hand?”
“Sure, that’d be great,” Shaun replied with a grin. “The quicker we get the deliveries done, the quicker we can knock off and start the festive drinking.”
Matt chuckled and rolled up his sleeves. For the next hour, he helped Shaun and the other Elliot’s employee heave furniture into the house. So many times he caught himself imagining that this was his house and he was moving home to settle near his family. Settle? He hadn’t thought about settling in years—hell, he’d never even dwelled on the concept before—but it sent a strange warmth gushing through his body. That wasn’t the scariest thought, though—he also found himself picturing Hannah in this house with him. He could see her watching a movie in front of the roaring fire, inhaling a morning coffee in the kitchen, and worst of all, as he helped Shaun position the bed in the master bedroom, he could visualize snuggling h
ere with Hannah after a long day. All these ideas were alien and unsettling. He wasn’t used to one woman taking up all his headspace. It was a good thing moving furniture required hard manual labor, because he needed something to help expend the tension and frustration building up inside him.
He hadn’t had such an honest workout in years and decided the kind thing to do was to offer Shaun and his sidekick a beer at the end of it all. Thank the Lord his mum liked beer and he’d had the forethought to buy some for her fridge already.
He was sitting on the front porch enjoying a well-deserved cold one with the delivery guys and still contemplating how to engineer another meeting with Hannah when he looked up to see her stepping out of a car.
“What are you doing here?” Shaun called out to his sister.
She leaned over to say something to the driver and Matt found his body going even tighter at the sight of her ass sweetly encased in fitted capris. He couldn’t help but think about kissing her again, about doing much, much more, and he wished like crazy her brother and the other bloke would miraculously disappear.
She waved as whoever had dropped her off drove away, then turned, smiled and called back to Shaun, sashaying up the driveway toward them. “You left your phone back at the shop and I know how pathetic you are without it.”
Shaun raised his eyebrows, took another pull of his beer and said, “You shouldn’t have bothered. I didn’t even miss it.”
Matt glanced between the siblings. Could he dare to hope the phone was just a ruse to give Hannah an excuse to drop by?
“Well, Melissa has already sent you five messages, so I thought I’d do you a favor to keep you out of the doghouse.” Stepping onto the veranda beside them, she nodded to Matt and the other man, then tossed Shaun his phone. “Haven’t you still got another delivery today?”
“Damn.” Shaun downed the rest of his drink and deposited the bottle at his feet. “I’d almost forgotten.” He turned to Matt. “Thanks for the drink, mate, but we’ve gotta rush. There’s an old woman practically in the next state who insisted on us delivering a rocking horse to her before tomorrow.”
Matt chuckled. “Thanks for hauling all my furniture around. Drive safe and I guess I’ll see you at Christmas.”
“Ah yeah, that’s right. See you then.”
As Matt thought of a way to keep Hannah with him, Shaun opened his mouth and presented the perfect opportunity. “Sis, you’ll have to come with us. I don’t have time to drop you back in town before this delivery. Is someone watching the showroom?”
Hannah nodded, her gorgeous brown hair swishing around her shoulders and over her breasts as she did so. “Yes, I’m on a lunch break. I can just call and say I’ll be a few minutes late.”
“No,” Matt found himself saying more forcefully than he intended. “I can drive you. I’ll just need a minute to lock up.”
“You sure?” Shaun asked.
“Fabulous,” Hannah said, smiling in a way that spoke straight to Matt’s desire. She took a step toward the front door, making room for the men to pass.
“Yes, it’ll be my pleasure.” He was already thinking about feigning a flat tire or something and luring her into his den.
They stood alongside each other and waved the truck away. Silence reigned for a few moments. Usually suave words came to Matt without much thought where women were concerned, but right now his tongue had twisted into a pathetic knot. It’d be much simpler if they didn’t need to talk, if he could just pull her into his arms and rely on body language instead.
“So,” she began after a little while, “how’s the house coming along?”
“Was bringing Shaun’s phone an excuse to see me?” he asked, regretting the bluntness of the question the second it was out.
She blinked and then a coy smile blossomed. “Usually I would say that was a presumptuous thing to say, but I’m sick of playing games. Yes. I am not in the habit of running after my brother like that. I wanted to see you.”
“Great.” His heart swelled but he managed not to smile. He didn’t want to scare her off. “Would you like to come in then? I can only offer you beer I’m afraid.”
“I’m fine.” She went in through the front door as he held it open for her. “I’m not really thirsty.”
Excellent, he thought, although still somewhat flummoxed by her sudden change of heart. Was she here for what he hoped she was? Or...
He had to know. “Have you changed your mind about going out on a date with me?” He closed the door behind them and took a step toward her, resisting the very primal urge to back her up against the wall and take her right there and then.
She bit her bottom lip; her eyes twinkled. “Maybe,” she said with a shrug. “Or maybe I just wanted to have a look around this amazing place. How about giving me the grand tour?”
He wanted to say he thought she wasn’t going to play games and her cryptic words—at least he thought they might be cryptic—were sure as hell game-playing to him, but he let it slide. Smiling and taking her hand instead, he said, “Right this way. I aim to please.”
“I like the sound of that.” She squeezed his hand as he led her down the hallway.
Relief and desire whooshed through him at the words that couldn’t be mistaken as teasingly seductive. He was tempted to take her straight to the bedroom, but decided he’d make her wait a little, as she’d made him wait. She wasn’t the only one who could play games.
They walked down the long, wide hallway—so open and spacious it could fit his mother’s old rental inside. She gazed up at the bare walls.
“Does your mother like art? Or does she prefer photos to decorate the house?”
“She’s got eclectic tastes. Mum’s actually a bit of an artist but doesn’t allow herself the time. I’m hoping she’ll put some of her own paintings on the walls, but I’m sure there’ll be plenty of photos as well.”
“And why this house?” Hannah asked as he led her into living room. The breeze didn’t appear to be working and the room still sweltered, or maybe that was just the chemistry zinging between them.
“Mum always dreamed of living right on the beach. She says it’s the most beautiful spot in town. I’d have bought her a place years ago but I wanted it to be hers, not her husband’s.”
“It is beautiful,” she said, taking a step toward the fireplace that would roar in winter and running her free hand against the polished wood of the mantelpiece. He couldn’t help but imagine those fingers on him instead.
“You need to get her a Christmas tree,” she said, slicing through his raunchy thoughts.
“If you say so, it’s done.” He forced his gaze from its occupation of roving over her body and led her into the next room. The living room opened into a massive dining room where an Elliot’s table now took pride of place. Despite all the furniture, the house still looked bare, but he knew the moment his mother took over it would shine under her loving touch.
As they headed into the kitchen, he put his palm on Hannah’s lower back, ostensibly to guide her through, but they both knew that to be a poor excuse. She shivered under his touch, and despite the cotton of her shirt that separated his skin from hers, electricity transferred from her body into his. He’d already thought himself impossibly hot and tight all over, but that minimal contact threatened to unravel him. So much for taking his time, making her wait.
She skirted the kitchen, admiring the view out the window, which looked out on to a clear blue Indian Ocean. He couldn’t help himself. He stepped toward her, dropping her hand and then placing his on the counter on either side of her, trapping her body with his.
“Oh,” she moaned her approval as he brushed back her hair and his lips landed on the sweet flesh at the side of her neck. He kissed her softly at first, caressing the delicate skin, but her head fell against his chest and he knew then that this “tour” would en
d exactly where he wanted it to.
“I thought you weren’t interested,” he whispered.
“I like playing hard to get,” she said, twisting around and meeting his mouth with hers. The way she kissed him said her days of playing hard to get were over, and Matt rejoiced at the thought. Her lips slid against his, their mouths opening, tongues toying. She tasted damn delicious and he couldn’t recall a kiss that made him feel so strung up inside, but he was greedy; he wanted more. Leaning closer, pushing Hannah against the counter, he nudged his knee between her legs, heard her moan, wrapped his hands around her waist and lifted her onto the counter.
Their lips parted for a matter of seconds and they both clamored for air, already panting as they looked into each other’s eyes. Words weren’t necessary—the heat in Hannah’s eyes told Matt that when he slipped his hands beneath her top she would arch her chest toward him, giving easy access as he cupped her breasts. As he closed his palms around her perfect mounds, it was his turn to moan. No woman had ever fit his hands so well, as if her breasts were made for the sole purpose of his entertainment. In perfect synchrony, he flicked his thumbs across her nipples, his erection swelling in his jeans as the rosy nubs hardened at his touch. Nothing had ever felt so beautiful.
He dropped his hands and took a breath, conflicted between wanting her naked yesterday and needing to slow things down. If he didn’t show some restraint this would be over before it had started, and he didn’t want her thinking that was his modus operandi.
“What’s wrong?” She pulled back slightly, noticing his hesitation.
“Nothing.” He swallowed. Her beautiful face framed by the window with the sand, sun and ocean in the background would sell this region to tourists worldwide, but he didn’t want to share. “Maybe we should go upstairs. Use the bed. I don’t want to rush things.”
She wriggled slightly and tugged her floaty top down over her soft exposed flesh. Uncertainty swam in her eyes. “I’m just here for a fling, right? A one-night stand or maybe a little longer, but you’re going again soon, yeah? I don’t want to give the wrong impression that I’m able to offer more.”
The Kissing Season Page 5