The words came out so easily, now, when they’d seemed impossible to reach just yesterday. Maybe it was because she felt more like herself after talking to someone. After crying with someone. After confessing. Hannah had never been good with secrets—not big secrets, not suffocating, emotional secrets. Setting all those words free felt like setting herself free too. When she looked up to check Nate’s expression, she was slightly hesitant, but she wasn’t choked by some nameless, fearsome dread.
And even her hesitation disappeared when she saw the huge, dopey grin on his face. “What?” she asked, even as an answering smile spread her lips without permission.
He shook his head. “Nothing, nothing. Keep going.”
Hannah tapped a finger against his dimple. “I think I’m done, actually. So what’s this about?”
“You…” He laughed, the sound a little flash of joy. “Did you just say you love me?”
Something warm and sweet started to glow in her chest. “Yeah. I did. Because, you know, I do.”
His arms tightened around her. He kissed her cheek, and then her eyebrow, of all places. Then the side of her nose, her chin… Actually, he was just kissing her face indiscriminately. Hannah supposed she should stop him—it was undignified—but she was quite enjoying it.
He kissed her ear next, then whispered, “I love you too.”
The warmth in her chest gained the strength of a sunrise. “You do?”
“Of course I do. Of course I do.” He ran his hands over her as if he just wanted to feel that she was there. Her sides, her arms, her thigh—whatever he could reach, he touched, smoothing his palms over her skin. And then he pulled her tight against his chest, buried his face against her hair, and breathed her in. “God, I love you. I love you so much, Hannah. I should’ve told you weeks ago.”
“Weeks?” she squeaked.
“Weeks,” he repeated firmly. “I didn’t know you felt like this, love. I didn’t know you were so worried. I’m sorry.”
“It’s not your fault,” she said. Her words were kind of muffled, since her face was smushed against the massive slab of his chest, but the message seemed clear enough.
And then Nate released her—kind of. She wasn’t smushed against his chest anymore, but she was still quite firmly in his lap. He cupped her cheeks in his hands with the sort of certainty that suggested he didn’t plan on letting her go. “I’m telling you right now,” he said softly, “that this is real. It doesn’t get any more real than this. I am in love with you, and I’m not going anywhere.”
She laughed shakily. “Even if I’m really insecure and may or may not have daddy issues?”
He leant in until their noses touched. “You could have all the issues in the world, sweetheart. I don’t give a shit. Just tell me when they’re drowning you, okay?”
She dragged in a breath. It sounded disturbingly like a teary sort of sniff, but that couldn’t be right. Surely she’d cried enough for the next year, at least? “I think you have enough to worry about without handling my random neuroses.”
“Hannah. When I can’t sleep because my mind’s moving too fast, you hold my hand and remind me to breathe. When my head hurts and my vision blurs too much to read, you do it for me. Even when you think I shouldn’t be reading at all.”
“Well,” she muttered, “spending all your free time researching sarcoidosis can’t be healthy.”
“But you let me. And you help me. And you pour coffee down my throat the next morning, and you find ways to keep the kids quiet when my head pounds, and you make me smile when I want to cry. You keep me afloat. You keep everything and everyone afloat. Do you know how much I want to do that for you?”
She was starting to get that, yeah. Hence the sneaky little tears sliding down her face. “Um… okay. Okay.”
“I know you can’t magically start sharing your feelings,” he said, “but I would probably die of happiness if you tried.”
She huffed out a laugh. “Cool. Right. Good. Fabulous. Um… Nate, I’m so sorry if I hurt you. I never want to hurt you. Not even a little bit. Not even by accident. I just, I really fucking love you.”
“Good,” he said. “Because I really fucking love you, too.” His hands slid into her hair. “So kiss me.”
She did. And there was no creeping panic, no ticking clock, no tightly contained fear. Just Nate’s soft, smiling mouth, and happiness.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Hannah: If you send me any more dog pics I’m blocking your number.
Rae: How are you not loving this? Where is your HEART, woman?!
“If you think you’re sleeping without me tonight,” he said, “you’ve had too much champagne.”
“I haven’t had any champagne, genius.” Hannah was standing in her bedroom doorway, hands on her hips, glare at full capacity. But he could see a slight twitch at the corner of her mouth, the only sign that she was fighting a smile.
Nate loved that smile.
It had barely left her face, in one way or another, since they’d returned to the party a couple of hours ago. Since then, they’d said goodbye to guests, checked on the kids and his mother, completely given up on the cleaning—which meant Hannah really must be tired—and gotten ready for bed.
Apparently, she hadn’t realised that ‘bed’, to Nate, officially meant A soft, horizontal place that includes Hannah.
“Let me in,” he murmured, reaching out to trace the slight curve of her lips.
“Nathaniel,” she whispered back, “your mother is in the house.”
He sighed. “This is going to be so much easier when everyone knows about us.”
“And when would that be?”
“Soon. Come to bed and I’ll tell you.”
She hesitated, her eyes widening slightly. What with everything that had happened tonight, Nate still hadn’t told her about his plan.
“I won’t fall asleep,” he reminded her. “You know I won’t. I just want to talk.”
She gave him a look that was somehow skeptical and flirtatious all at once. “Right,” she drawled. “Talk.” But that hint of a smile became the real thing, even as she rolled her eyes. “Well, fine, as long as you don’t fall asleep. You have to leave before anyone wakes up.”
“Whatever you want.”
Hannah shook her head as she turned away. He followed her into the room, shutting the door behind them, and watched for a moment as she climbed into bed. It was like watching a dream come to life. Her room was quiet and cool and painfully tidy, as always. The window overlooking the garden was pushed wide, letting the fragrant night air in, and her bedside lamp cast a warm glow over her brown skin and white sheets. She settled back against the cushions in her cute little PJs, her face free of makeup, her hair all wrapped up in that scarf.
This was what he wanted out of life. His kids snoring like jackhammers down the hall, his mother safe and sound, his brother sending him such loving texts as I only thought you were a creep for 0.05 seconds at most, and Hannah Kabbah waiting for him in bed.
Nate took his time sliding in beside her, wondering if it was possible to memorise an experience perfectly—from the feel of the sheets against his skin, to the sound of the mattress shifting as she rolled over to face him. He didn’t want to forget this moment, ever. He’d been in love with this women for a fucking century, but he’d never lain in bed with her. She’d always avoided that, no matter what time it was or who was in the house. It had been one of the many ways, he realised, that she’d held herself quietly apart. But now she reached out to trace her fingers over his chest, and her feet tangled with his under the sheets, and everything was absolutely fucking perfect.
“As part of my new sharing attitude,” she murmured, “I should tell you that it’s mildly alarming when you do the whole ‘mysterious’ thing.”
He kissed the top of her head. “Sorry. Okay, let me spit it out. I was thinking of ways that we could fix the boss/employee thing, and I kept hitting the same issues. No matter what happens, you still need a j
ob, and I still need a nanny.”
“You don’t need a nanny,” she said. “I’d watch the kids for free.”
“Jesus, Hannah. That would be even more ethically questionable than what I’m doing now.”
She laughed, and the sound made him smile. “Fair point. So… what, then?”
“Well, as you know, I have your agreed-upon salary sitting around the house already. And, as of last week, I also have several au pairs flooding my email with references. So I was thinking, maybe… you take the money, I get a new nanny, and everyone’s good. For the time-being, at least.” He studied Hannah’s face, which was, at best, blank. “What do you think?”
She rolled her lips inward, her frown more considering than anything else. “I… don’t know.”
“Okay. Talk to me.”
“Well, first of all, I don’t want just anyone watching the kids.”
He bit back a smile. “It’s all arranged through this specialist company with a mile-long vetting process. But I was thinking maybe you could help me choose someone?”
“How do the interviews work? Like, Skype?”
“Yeah.”
She wrinkled her nose. “I want to see this company. Maybe call them and talk to someone…” she trailed off, shaking her head. “We can work on that part. I like the idea, though.”
“So you don’t feel like I’m getting rid of you?”
She gave him a gentle smile. “No, honey. I mean, you are getting rid of me. Except not really, because I’m still going to stick my nose in your business all the time.”
He kissed the aforementioned nose, and said, “Good.”
“I’m not sure about the money thing, though.”
Nate was prepared for this argument. In fact, he was prepared for all arguments, because he’d planned this discussion very carefully. Of course, in the end, it had still gone awry—but things were running much more smoothly now.
“It’s only fair,” he said. “We signed a contract, right? You’re past the probation period, and you haven’t been dismissed. You’re not choosing to leave, you haven’t broken any terms—”
“Haven’t I?” she asked innocently. “Because I don’t think snuggling was in the contract.”
“We’re not snuggling.”
She gave his arm, which was wrapped rather tightly around her waist, a pointed look. And then she shifted her knee, which appeared to be trapped between his thighs. And then she kissed his chin, and Nate realised that they were practically on top of each other.
“Okay,” he admitted. “We may be snuggling.”
“It’s more like you’re snuggling me, really.”
“Snuggling is a group activity. We’re snuggling.”
“Weeeelllll…”
“If you keep arguing, I’m going to kiss you.”
“Oh no,” she deadpanned. “Please. Stop. Don’t.”
He snorted. “Shut up. You can’t distract me, Hannah. We have a plan to discuss.”
“Ah, yes. The money issue. Well, I get what you’re saying about the contract, and I would love to take some of this random house cash off your hands, because knowing it’s in here makes me beyond nervous—”
“Why?”
She stared at him as if he’d asked the silliest question in the world. “Um. What if the house burns down? What if we’re burgled? And so on and so forth? Banks exist for a reason, Nate.”
“If it bothers you so much, just take it.”
“All of it? I don’t think that’s in my contract.”
“Well, you have to take something.” He sighed. “Come on, sweetheart. Work with me here.”
“I don’t know. I might not need it, anyway.”
Nate frowned. “What do you mean?”
“Well, I don’t think I mentioned this before, but I have a trust fund. It’s not huge, as trust funds go, but I could definitely live off it for a while.”
“Why the hell do you have a trust fund?” On the heels of that question, common sense arrived to smack him with the answer. “Oh. Ah… is it something to do with your dad?”
“Mmhm.” Her tone was casual, but their bodies were too closely intertwined for him to miss the tension running through her.
“Okay,” he said slowly. “So you’re not sure if you want to use it?”
“Exactly. I’ve never used it. Ever. I suppose that makes me prideful.”
“Not necessarily,” he said gently. “But even if it did… is pride a sin?”
“Yes,” she said promptly. “Literally, yes.”
“Oh. Well, so is pre-marital sex, right?”
She glared. “You’re really not helping.”
“Sorry, love.” He kissed the little arrow that appeared between her brows, until the frown was smoothed out. “Honestly, I understand. I wouldn’t want to take anything from my dad, either. Yours is a twat, mine’s a twat, they’re all twats and you’re entitled to deal with that twatness however you like.”
“You think?”
“I do. You can spend the money he gave you, or you can give it away, or you can burn it. Symbolically, I mean. Please don’t actually burn it. People are starving.” When she bit back a laugh, her hesitance melting away, he felt a surge of happiness. Funny how making Hannah smile felt like a lifetime achievement every time. “Seriously, though, it’s up to you. I want to pay you, and I think it’s right to pay you, but that’s your choice too. Think about it. Okay?”
She nodded slowly. “Okay. I will.”
“Good. And in the meantime, I was thinking maybe we could tell our families, at least, that we’re together.”
“That sounds good,” she agreed. “Although after tonight, the only family members who don’t know are our parents and the kids.”
“Actually, Josh and Beth have both asked me if you’re my girlfriend. Multiple times. And I did say no, but I don’t think they believed me.”
“Seriously? Oh, Jesus.”
“Kids are smart.” He shrugged. And then bit back a groan as her fingers, which were gently circling his chest, grazed his nipple. Fuck.
“So it’s just our parents,” she said. “I’m not sure how my mother will take it.”
“Oh?” he croaked.
“You never really know with her. She’s absolutely baffling. But I suppose I’ll find out soon enough.” Hannah shrugged. “What about yours?”
“Not sure,” he managed. Then he cleared his throat as a sudden realisation struck him. “By the way, Hannah, you do know that we’re a couple, right?”
“Well,” she said slowly, “I know that we’re exclusively sleeping together…”
“No. We’re exclusively dating.” Which, he was beginning to realise, may not have been explicitly clear. “You didn’t think we were dating?
She pursed her lips, her gaze sliding away from his. Then she frowned and squinted down at their bodies as if she could see straight through the sheets. “Do you have an erection right now?”
“Stop staring at my dick when I’m trying to romance you.”
“That’s you romancing me? By the way, we’re together?”
“Well,” he said reasonably, “if I’d gone with, Dearest Hannah, light of my life, would you do me the great honour of becoming my girlfriend? you might freak out.”
“Girlfriend?” she squeaked.
“You are a girl, right?”
“I’m thirty, Nate. You’re thirty. You’re a widower, for God’s sake!”
“My very mature girlfriend, then. My very adult girlfriend. My womanfriend, if you will.”
She laughed so hard, he had to cover her mouth. They were trying to be quiet, after all. And if he just so happened to cover her mouth with his…
Well, that was called creative problem solving.
When Nate woke up the next morning, the first thing he felt was pure joy. It shone through him as if his heart had become a little sun, pumping golden light through his veins instead of blood. Because he woke up in Hannah’s bed, with her arm slung over his chest and t
he soft sound of her snores in his ears. Hannah snored. He was ridiculously pleased about this fact.
And then he was suddenly, instantly horrified. Because he’d just woken up, which meant he’d been asleep. Long enough to feel better than half-dead, even. Which was too fucking long, judging by the soft glow filtering through Hannah’s open window—and the distant sound of his early bird children, nattering away somewhere in the house.
Nate barely resisted the urge to bolt upright. Instead, he slid Hannah’s arm gently off him, eased out of bed, and padded quietly out of the room.
A quick check proved that the kids were indeed up, their beds rumpled and abandoned. So, apparently, was his mother. Fan-fucking-tastic. Nate threw on some clothes that may or may not have matched and hurried downstairs. He found them all in the kitchen, the kids eating porridge and his mother standing by the kettle.
“Daddy!” Josh grinned. “Grandma made a love heart with my jam!”
“She didn’t make a love heart with my jam,” Beth sniffed, “because that’s for babies.”
“I don’t know where she’s getting these strange ideas,” Shirley said mildly.
“She has this friend at school,” Nate murmured. “Lily.” Lily had very strong opinions about what was and was not babyish, and Beth seemed to take those opinions quite seriously. But Hannah said the whole thing would blow over.
He kissed his daughter’s head, and then his son’s, before meeting his mother’s eye. “Morning, Ma. How are you?”
“Very well, thank you, darling. Coffee?”
“No thanks.”
She arched a brow. “Cutting down?”
“Trying. Thanks for feeding the kids. I overslept.”
“Where?” she asked.
“Sorry?”
Her voice softened even as her eyes narrowed. “Where did you oversleep, Nathaniel? Because it wasn’t in your room.”
Ah. He ran a hand through his hair. “Right. Well, this doesn’t usually happen. Ever, actually. It never happens.” He cast a wary look over at the kids, who appeared to be discussing the merits of raspberry jam versus marmalade, before continuing. “But I fell asleep with Hannah. Because we are together. Which I was going to tell you, at some point.” He cleared his throat. “And she’s not going to work for me anymore. As soon as we find someone else. You know, because we’re together.” Did he already say that? He already said that.
Untouchable: A Small Town Romance (Ravenswood Book 2) Page 25