It took a few moments for the words to register since I was doing a bit of ogling of my own. I didn’t mean for it to happen, but following Hannah up a flight of stairs afforded a nice view indeed. A light feminine fragrance followed in her wake; the chilly air radiating from her tiny frame kept the heat from growing uncomfortable. I mentally reprimanded myself. I wasn’t here for her -—well, not in that sense anyway. My father’s ‘keep it in your pants’ message made it clear that Hannah was not one of the perks of the job. That was fine by me.
The room to which she led me wasn’t large, but it was more than enough for my needs. Clean, simple, done in dark and light neutrals that didn’t offend my masculinity. The faint scent of lemons and fresh linens was nice, too.
“Your bathroom is through here,” she told me, opening a connecting door. The latrine was a little outdated, but like the bedroom, clean and more than sufficient. Hannah might not have been happy about having me here, but she was making an effort to be hospitable. I appreciated that.
“Thanks. This is great.”
Her head dipped down in what I assumed was acknowledgement as she made a beeline for the door, anxious to be on her way. Clearly her hospitality did not extend beyond the bare minimum of polite social interaction. Not yet, anyway. We would be working on that.
“Do you have any food allergies?” she asked over her shoulder.
I couldn’t help myself. “If I say yes, will you prepare special meals for me, kitten?”
“No,” she said without missing a beat. “I just want to know what to slip into your dinner if you piss me off.”
I couldn’t help it. I laughed. I was pretty sure I was going to like it here.
Chapter 5
Hannah
I walked out of the room with my head held high, Blue Eyes laughing behind me. He had a nice laugh, rich and deep and genuine. I was still pissed, but I have to admit it was nice to hear. Our house didn’t hold a lot of laughter these days.
Inside, I was still simmering over the whole situation, though I had calmed considerably in the last hour or so. My father was adamant about having Ethan around, and for now, I was going to have to deal with it. Sure, on the surface it seemed like an ideal solution, but I wasn’t completely sold on the idea. If the guy was so freaking great, how was it that he was able to drop everything and move in on a moment’s notice? Then I realized that I had pretty much done the same thing.
I didn’t like being a mushroom (translation: kept in the dark and fed a load of shit). I would be doing some covert Google research into Mr. Seems-Too-Good-To-Be-True. In the meantime, I was going to treat his presence here as temporary. No one else had lasted very long, maybe Ethan wouldn’t either.
Uncle Cal was still in with my dad, so I went into the kitchen to prepare a light lunch. As I was assembling the BLTs and brewing sweet tea, I tried to think positively. That wasn’t something that came naturally to me; I was far more likely to see the bad in a situation than the good. As a compromise, I compiled a mental list of pros and cons.
Pro: Ethan was at least as qualified (if not more so) than most of those the agency had already sent.
Pro: Ethan’s size and strength would be a definite plus in my father’s care.
Pro: As a Ranger, Ethan was used to dealing with overbearing superiors and would not be easily cowed by my father’s lack of tact and sensitivity.
Pro: Having Ethan around 24/7 might ease my load, if only to run errands or get a few hours of work done.
Con: Ethan O’Malley irked me. With his fit body, panty-dropping smile, and throaty laugh, he was the male personification of my chocolate cake.
I sighed, recognizing (and accepting) the raw truth as I added a stop at Lingenfelter’s Bakery to my To Do list. I’d just have to avoid him as much as possible.
Ethan
Unpacking didn’t take very long. Other than a few changes of clothes and basic essentials, I didn’t have much.
The room had a nice view through both windows. The one facing east was mostly of forested land; on the south, miles of rolling hills and patchwork farms were divided by lines of trees and dotted by grazing cattle, sheep, and the occasional horse. A light breeze kept the space cool and comfortable despite the heat of the day, carrying with it the rural scents of livestock, hay, and sunshine.
Tranquil. That’s the word that came to mind as I took in my new surroundings. Not, however, a word I associated with the Colonel’s daughter. Hannah McGinnis had inspired a few initial impressions, but tranquility wasn’t one of them.
She didn’t appreciate my being here, though that might be more of a knee-jerk reaction to my sudden appearance than personal hostility. I could understand that. I’d just have to convince her that I wasn’t the enemy here. Clearly just turning on the O’Malley charm wasn’t going to be enough with the lovely Hannah.
I amended my goals of self-redemption to include winning over Hannah while adhering to the no-seduction rule. It couldn’t be that hard.
I made my way back downstairs, appreciating the old-world craftsmanship of the plaster walls and carved wood. The heavenly scent of bacon drew me to the kitchen, where I found Hannah putting the finishing touches on a tray heaped with sandwiches, kettle chips, and iced tea.
“Would you like some help?” I asked.
Her shoulders stiffened. I was halfway across the room when she turned around, stopping me in my tracks. Her face was back to that neutral expression, polite but cool. I offered her my best let’s-be-friends smile. She didn’t return it.
“Yes. You can take this in for me.”
I accepted the tray. “Aren’t you coming?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
Irritation shone through the polite mask. “Because I have stuff to do.”
“All right. Make a list and I’ll be back to help as soon as I drop this off.”
I left before she could protest. My thoughts were that by offering to help, Hannah would see that I wasn’t a bad guy, and my new work environment might be less hostile. When I returned a few minutes later however, Hannah was nowhere to be found. The list I’d requested was on the table, consisting of only two items:
Take care of my father’s needs.
Stay out of my way.
So much for that idea. It appeared that I was going to have to put more thought and effort into this than I’d anticipated.
Over the course of the next few days, I went out of my way to be friendly. I smiled often and complimented her cooking. Continually asked if she needed help. Did things around the house that I thought she’d appreciate, like mowing the grass and fixing the porch lights.
A week later, I’d settled in, but despite my best efforts, Hannah showed no signs of warming up to my presence. She did her best to avoid me, which of course only made me more determined to place myself in her path.
Part of me (the logical, sane, objective part) recognized the sensibility of keeping my distance. I knew that I was playing with fire where Hannah was concerned, but I couldn’t help myself. There was something about her that fascinated me. Maybe it was just because she seemed so immune to my charms, but deep down I suspected it was more than that. A much larger part of me, the daring part that had carried me into and out of life-threatening situations on a regular basis, decided it was worth the risk.
Her dad, the Colonel, was a decent guy. We’d had several enlightening conversations that I’m sure his daughter would not have approved of, since many of them involved her (indirectly, of course). The old man was pretty slick, discreetly providing veiled hints to unlock his enigmatic, antisocial daughter.
Yeah, after the first couple of days I figured out that he and my father were playing their own, effed-up version of The Dating Game. At first, it pissed me off. After my ex’s betrayal, I wasn’t keen on anything that lasted more than a night or two. Hell, I was just starting to get my shit together. The last thing I needed was to give someone the power to break me apart again.
But then I rea
lized that as much as I wasn’t interested in a premeditated hookup, Hannah was even less so, which made me feel as if the target on my back was just a little smaller.
What I didn’t understand was why her father felt he needed to interfere at all. She was obviously attractive with her petite but curvy figure, deep chestnut hair and stormy eyes. Intelligent, too, since she ran her own successful business. And caring, given that she’d dropped everything to come back and take care of her old man. There was that prickly exterior, though. I could see where most guys wouldn’t want to put in the effort, and that’s probably what she was counting on with me.
Well, she’d soon learn that I wasn’t most guys. Not that I was buying into this Ethan-and-Hannah-sitting-in-a-tree scheme; I wasn’t. But I was here and currently vice-less, so solving the Hannah puzzle gave me something to do. At least that’s what I told myself.
For as tough as she was on the outside, I sensed a vulnerability about her that suggested she was more affected by all this (her father’s illness, my mere presence) than she was letting on. Maybe that’s why she was so adamant about not letting her guard down around me. Even the smallest crack in those defenses might be enough to bring them crashing down.
Bottom line, it wasn’t clear to me whether this setup was for my benefit or hers. Maybe both. We both had issues. I was trying to clean myself up and move on; she was putting on her Super Girl cape and trying to deal with everything single-handedly.
It didn’t matter, not really. For the past six and a half days, I’d been sober, focused, and in astonishingly good spirits. I didn’t really believe in all that love at first sight crap, but even I had to admit, there was something about Hannah McGinnis that had captured and held my attention from those first few moments.
Speaking of the source of my current preoccupation, it had been a few hours since I’d last seen her and I was craving my afternoon Hannah fix. She wasn’t hard to find; her daily schedule didn’t vary much. When the clock struck five, I knew I’d find her in the kitchen.
True to form, there she was. I leaned against the door frame, watching her from beneath half-lidded eyes while she prepared dinner. She really was kind of cute in a spitting feral kitten kind of way. Make that three parts pissed-off kitten and one part geek. When she wasn’t glaring at me, she had that cute little nose glued to a computer screen or stuck in a book.
I knew she’d sensed my presence by the way her spine stiffened. Judging by the way she was wielding that big knife to chop up those vegetables, she was envisioning something else entirely on that checkered butcher block. Probably a few of my body parts. In retrospect, that shouldn’t have pleased me as much as it did. It meant that on some level, despite her best efforts, I was successful in penetrating that icy exterior.
“Don’t you have something better to do?” she shot back at me. Her shoulders were tense, practically at ear level. My hands twitched. It was all I could do not to go over there and massage those knots away. I admit, I was looking for an excuse to get my hands on her (purely in the interest of satisfying my curiosity), to see if she was soft or hard beneath those oversized layers. Unfortunately, Hannah was both quick and evasive, sabotaging my efforts at casual, incidental contact.
“No,” I answered honestly, planting my ass at the kitchen table.
A hiss escaped her lips. No doubt she was fantasizing about sending that blade my way, maybe burying it deep in my chest. Sitting down as I was, she might just be able to reach it. Irrationally, the thought made me smile.
Her scowl deepened. “Can’t you find somewhere else to spend your free time?”
“Well, I could,” I said, drawing out the words as I leaned back and locked my hands behind my head. “But then I’d be depriving myself of your lovely company.”
I knew my voice affected her by the way her body responded. She didn’t want to be attracted to me, but she was. What she didn’t seem to realize was that by fighting so hard, she was making herself more desirable. Say what you want, but most men love the thrill of the hunt. Me more so than most.
It’s right up there with that other consuming, primal urge we cavemen had to deal with on a regular basis. Yeah, you know which one I’m talking about. Beneath the heavily-scarred, solid oak tabletop, my cock hardened further in anticipation of the glare I knew was coming my way.
And... yes! There it was. Those purplish-gray eyes flashed with streaks of white-hot lightning. There was a hell of a lot of spirit packed into that tiny body, hidden beneath the exterior of a well-trained soldier. Spirit that would no doubt translate into incredible passion for the man who could tap into it.
I allowed my thoughts to wander momentarily, imagining her in my bed, beneath me, as I stripped those icy shields and made her melt. I’d peel them all away, right along with her clothes, letting my mouth and hands speak for me instead of words. I’d loosen every knot, release all of that pent-up tension, and make her feel so, so good.
As if she could read my mind, she whipped around, brandishing the gleaming blade in her hand and pointing it at me menacingly. I might have been worried, if I didn’t have a good foot, a hundred plus pounds, and ten years of Ranger training on her. As it was, I was just incredibly turned on.
“Don’t make the mistake of thinking this is anything more than a job. A job to help care for my father. Nothing else.”
A week ago, I would have agreed with her. Now I knew better.
I stood up abruptly, pushing the chair under the table. I heard her quick intake of breath, but to her credit, she didn’t back away like every self-preservation instinct was probably screaming at her to do. I stalked over to her, towered above her, and fixed her with a glare that’d had grown men pissing their pants.
She glared right back, unknowingly providing fuel for a few more late night fantasies that involved the two of us getting naked. But as we stood toe to toe, I was beginning to realize there was more to it than that. Without intending to, she was unconsciously reeling me in inch by inch, and I wasn’t fighting all that hard to get away.
The normal stuff (charm, innuendo, humor) wasn’t working with Hannah, which meant it was time to try another approach, namely, turning the tables. I was going to shake up her stubborn little world, but not in the way she expected. She was too confident, too sure that she was in control. She wasn’t. As I drew closer, her breaths grew rapid and shallow, her pupils dilated (mostly in arousal but maybe some fear, too), and her lips parted, almost making me change my mind. But not quite. Rule number one of engagement: keep your opponent off balance by doing the unexpected.
“Trust me,” I smirked, “that will not be a problem.”
She blinked, her expression going completely blank, and I knew in that instant that I had scored a direct hit. The momentary triumph was confirmed when there was a flash of hurt in her eyes before they went dead, too.
I’ll admit, it shook me, more than I thought it would have. But I forced myself to walk away and not cave. Sometimes a few minor casualties were necessary. I had my eyes on the end game, and tactically speaking, once I accepted a mission, I was unbeatable.
I was almost through the door when I heard her murmured response: “No, it won’t.”
Chapter 6
Hannah
“Damn him and his blue eyes!” I muttered at my laptop screen. It was two-thirty in the morning, the time when I should be making use of my insomnia to finish up the customized UI (user interface) for one of my remaining clients on the West Coast. I was thankful that a few customers had chosen to stick with me despite my cross-country move.
Eventually, I might try targeting the local Muskrat Falls community, particularly the Schaeffers. The Schaeffer family had been in the area even longer than the McGinnises, and dominated the small businesses in Muskrat Falls proper. If I could swallow enough of my pride to call Jake Schaeffer and set something up with him, I could probably count on being contracted for Schaeffer Electric, Schaeffer Roofing, Schaeffer Lawn and Garden Services, and Schaeffer Appliances as wel
l.
Luckily, Dad had made some good investments over the years, and I’d built up a nice little nest egg of my own. Both of us tended to fall on the frugal side of practical, so I didn’t have to worry about supplementing finances much just yet.
“Gah! I give up!” Every time I linked a text box to a data field, the background would change to a bright shade of sky blue, reminding me of Ethan’s eyes.
I really, really needed to get a grip. Ethan O’Malley was a cocky, dominant male. I should know; I was an expert. Between my father, my brother, and a host of others, I’d grown up surrounded by them. It was only the last twelve years or so that my life had been relatively free of testosterone-laden, alpha types.
I wasn’t knocking them. They had their place, it just wasn’t with me. Because just as they were their own breed, so they sought out compatible mates. Sweet, docile women like my mother, capable of yielding to their despotic natures.
And I was nothing like my mother.
Oh, my mother and I shared the same physical attributes. I was vertically challenged, as she had been, with curves meant for a much taller figure. I had the same slightly wavy, rich chestnut hair and fey-like features. But that is where the similarity ended. Assuming we had the same personalities was a mistake many had made, but that was like saying Twilight and Dr. Seuss’s Ten Apples Up On Top were similar in content simply because they both had apples on the cover.
Most of my defining characteristics came from my dad: my gray eyes, intolerance for incompetence and bullshit, implacable resolve and genius level IQ.
Sometimes I thought life would be so much easier if I was more like my mother.
So did my father.
No, as much as I discreetly admired Ethan O’Malley and his broad shoulders, rippling muscles, and total bedroom eyes, I had to stay focused. He was here for one reason and one reason only, and, despite my father’s subtle attempt at matchmaking (yes, I knew), that reason was not me. I had no interest in starting anything with him, not even temporarily.
Letting Go: A Contemporary Romance of Snark and Feels Page 5