Chasing Hannah (Billingsley Book 2)

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Chasing Hannah (Billingsley Book 2) Page 10

by Melissa Ellen


  “You want some help?”

  “Nope. Got it covered.” I smiled over my shoulder.

  When I had it all set up, I jumped back to the ground, landing beside her.

  “You went all out,” she said, her eyes taking in the spread of food and champagne.

  “Only the best for my girl,” I said, curling my fingers around one of her hands. I used my other to tuck a few loose strands of her hair that were being whipped around by the breeze.

  Her eyes fell to the ground, her cheeks lifting with her shy smile—a complete contradiction to the confident woman I’d grown to know. My chest pounded as I swallowed back the emotion. This woman had me all twisted up inside. Wanting more. Frustrated I couldn’t have it. She’d be my undoing. I was sure of it.

  I gripped her chin, lifting her eyes back to mine. Her lips parted. An invitation. I slanted my head, brushing my mouth against hers. She clung to my shoulders and my cock twitched. Taking a step back, I lifted her into my arms. She squealed with a laugh as she latched onto my neck. I gave her one more kiss before resting her on the tailgate.

  “Where are we?” she asked as she waited for me to climb up with her.

  “Just north of Lottie and Tucker’s place.”

  “Are we trespassing again?”

  I pulled her into my arms, stealing another touch, staring down at her big, bright eyes. “Let’s just say I know the owner and they won’t mind.”

  “Billy Miller, if you get me arrested on any of these dates, I’ll never forgive you.” Her hands slipped into my back pockets. Torturing. Teasing the desperation I felt being completely wrapped up in this woman.

  “You mean you don’t like being my Bonnie?”

  “Hell no. I’m not taking a bullet for any man, not even one as charming as you, cowboy,” she goaded, a hint of a smile playing on her face.

  I smacked her ass before dipping her back to plant another kiss on her. She shrieked, her arms locking around my neck. I pulled her back upright. “I guess it’s a good thing I own it then.”

  Her eyes widened as she rotated out of my arms to take it all in with her new knowledge. “How long have you had it?”

  I shrugged. “A little over a year. Lottie’s mom sold it to me at a discounted price before she passed for helping her around the place. It wasn’t part of their original farm. Something Lottie’s grandparents had purchased when she was young.”

  “It’s beautiful. The river, the view. A girl could get lost in her thoughts out here.”

  My heart took off, a race of satisfaction drumming inside. I stepped up behind her, tucking her back into my chest, my arms snug around her. She clung to them, holding on tight. I kissed along the skin of her neck, wishing she was that woman she spoke of.

  I had plans for this land. Build a small home and a family. One that hopefully included two kids. One I could see Hannah being a part of. A dream that wouldn’t happen.

  I was starting to believe dreams were only meant for chasing, not obtaining. At least, for me.

  Nestled in my arms, soft curves to hard planes, we laid back in the bed of the truck, looking up at the black canvas hanging over us with a sprinkling of bright stars. I stroked the backs of my knuckles along her spine as she rested her head on me, never wanting to leave this spot, this moment. If I could, I’d make it last forever. The evening had been perfect—the food, the flirting, the woman in my arms.

  “You never told me you played baseball.”

  Her words weren’t an accusation, just an observation, one that interrupted my content thoughts. Pulling her a little tighter, I tucked my other hand behind my head.

  “I guess it just never came up that night.”

  “Seems like it was a big part of your life.”

  “At one time…it was.”

  She lifted her head, resting her chin over her hands on my chest, her eyes full of something I couldn’t quite interpret. “What happened? They say you were being recruited by the MLB.”

  “They?”

  She rolled her eyes with a wry smile. “The people in this town.”

  I sighed, shifting her from my arms to sit up, not wanting to discuss it. The truth was, I never told her about it that night because I didn’t like to talk about it. To think about it. Being so close to a lifelong dream just to have it torn from your clutches wasn’t something I liked to relive. My biggest failure in life.

  She sat forward with me, her eyes on my profile as I stared straight ahead, resting my arms on my bent knees. The defensive wall protecting my pride built up between us.

  “I’m sorry,” she said, sensing the shift in the air, her hand caressing my back. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want.”

  Hell. Hearing the understanding in her voice had my defenses crumbling. She was the woman I wanted to claim wholly. I wanted every piece of her. The good and the bad. There was no way I could deny her the same.

  I cleared my throat, still unable to meet her eyes. “It was an injury my senior year of college ball, my last season. It came at the worst possible time in my career. I tore my rotator cuff. It put me out of commission for the rest of the season. I had surgery and fortunately, I recovered from it. Unfortunately, not soon enough. In the eyes of the recruiters, it was too big of a risk to wait and see if I did, so they moved on.”

  I roughed a hand through my hair. My chest tightened. Reliving the loss of that dream, while chasing after another that sat beside me, so close to being in my hands, but knowing it was just as fleeting, tore me up inside.

  Her own tone turned somber as she wrapped herself in her arms, knees pulled to her chest. “I’m sorry, Billy. I know what it’s like to have a dream be taken from you.”

  I looked over at her, wanting to take away the sadness in her eyes as she stared ahead. I draped an arm around her shoulders, tucking her into my side, dropping a kiss on the crown of her head.

  Her cheek nuzzled into my chest. Her next words were so quiet I almost missed them. “I lost my job.”

  Remaining silent and still, I waited for her to continue, not fully sure I’d heard her correctly.

  “Right before I came here… It’s like one day I was working at my dream company, steps away from getting my dream position, only to be pushed out the door without a second thought.”

  “Damn, baby. I’m sorry.” I squeezed her tighter, wishing I could somehow make it better for her.

  She lifted her head to look at me, a struggle in her eyes I wasn’t used to seeing from her. “I haven’t told anyone, not even Lottie. I think saying it out loud makes it more real, you know? I have no idea what I’m going to do. I feel like a fish out of water right now, floundering my way around, with no direction.”

  “We’ll figure it out, Han. You’ll land on your feet. I’m sure of it.”

  I just wished those feet would land here with me.

  10

  HANNAH

  “Hannah?! Hannah, dear, you still out there?”

  I lobbed my head backwards, rolling my eyes toward the ceiling. Of course I was still here. Where else would I be?

  “One minute, Mrs. Fitzgerald!” I hollered from the cashier counter, where I’d been hunkered over my laptop submitting my resume to another potential employer.

  I already knew what she wanted: whatever she was trying on this morning in another size. The seventy-year-old woman came into the store at least once a day, always picking out clothes entirely too small for her to try on. I didn’t know if her eyes were so bad that she couldn’t read the labels, or if she just thought she was smaller than she was. Either way, she had me constantly running back and forth between the racks and dressing rooms for at least an hour a day every day. To top it all off, she rarely bought anything.

  I snapped my laptop shut with a sigh after finally hitting send. It was my final resume to submit. There were only a handful of jobs available unless I decided to relocate. Leaving Seattle wasn’t something I wanted to do. I loved the city, had lived there my whole life, but at the end of the
day I had to make a living.

  The front door of the shop opened, and Leighton came strolling through with an exhausted look on her face and two iced coffees from Ida’s in hand. It’d become a ritual for her to show up here after she got off work, bringing me my afternoon cup of iced coffee.

  “Hey. Thanks, I’ve been craving one of these,” I said, taking the cup she offered to me. I took a long sip of the much-needed caffeine before asking, “What’s going on?”

  “Remind me again why I chose this profession.” She sagged against the front of the counter, taking a drink of her own.

  “Um…because you have a heart of gold and love all those adorable little faces?”

  “Right. That.”

  “Hang in there. It’s your last week and then you’ll have the summer to recoup.”

  “Hannah!” the impatient old woman called again.

  “Coming!” I yelled, fighting back my annoyance and plastering on a smile.

  Leighton smirked.

  “And you thought you have it bad,” I grumbled, waltzing over to the wall where Tucker had built Lottie a bank of dressing rooms with pipe fittings draped with thick white curtains. He’d done a beautiful job building out a rustic modern space for her boutique—a combination of brick, wood, and metal, softened by the clothes she displayed and the chandeliers above.

  Mrs. Fitzgerald pushed aside the curtain, stepping out of the fitting room she was in. I about tripped over my own two feet when she did, my eyes wide as I covered my mouth with a hand to hide the shock on my face.

  “Oh, dear lord,” Leighton muttered, coming up beside me. “You definitely have it worse than me. I don’t believe I’ll ever be able to un-see this.”

  That made two of us. I’d be glad when I was back to making trips to Milan and New York instead of working in Mulletsville. Small-town living just wasn’t for me.

  “Hannah, dear, I think they labeled this shirt all wrong. I swear the tag says extra-large, but it’s barely covering the old girls.” She waved a hand across her huge chest, as if we could miss what she was referring to.

  I dropped my hand from my mouth. Leighton silently chuckled beside me as Mrs. Fitzgerald stood there with her pale, drooping skin hanging out in what had to be the worst case of muffin top I’d ever seen.

  “Mrs. Fitzgerald, the size is correct. That is how the shirt is made.”

  She looked down incredulously at the piece of material barely concealing her saggy boobs. “Why on earth would I want to pay full price for a shirt that’s half missing?”

  I took the last few steps to Mrs. Fitzgerald, spinning her around and gently shoving her back into the dressing room. Heaven forbid anybody else saw her as they passed by the storefront. It’d be all over the front page of the local paper. A new scandal to gossip about. She’d be accused of hooking on Main Street.

  “They’re called crop tops. They’re all the rage for the younger generation. Let’s see if we can find you something else. Give me a few minutes, and I’ll bring you back some new options.”

  “Thank you, dear.”

  I pulled the curtain closed, my shoulders deflating and head shaking as I walked over to a rack of shirts more suitable for her body type.

  The front door swung open again, and I lifted to greet the new customer. Wes strutted in, cocky as ever, a big, annoying smile already on his face.

  I turned my back to him, blatantly ignoring him.

  “What’s up, Hurling Hannah?”

  Leighton cocked an eyebrow, looking at me for answers. I ignored her too.

  “I’m going to kill you. Dead. In your sleep,” I whisper-yelled as he came up beside me.

  “Come on, you aren’t still mad at me about eating the other half of that sandwich?”

  “It was my sandwich! I made it for me. And I only made a half, so technically you ate all of it.”

  “You can’t stay mad at your bestie forever.”

  “You’re right. Good thing you aren’t my bestie.”

  “We’re roommates, that automatically makes us besties. Isn’t that right, baby Miller?” Wes hollered, directing his question to Leighton who stood by, sipping her coffee.

  She exhaled an annoyed breath. “It’s Bradley now, Wes. I’m no longer baby Miller.”

  “Doesn’t matter if you went and got yourself married, you’ll always be baby Miller to me.”

  “Do you see what I have to deal with?” I asked her.

  Leighton shrugged. “I’ve had to deal with it my whole life.”

  “You ladies love me, and you know it.”

  “Have you been hitting the bottle for breakfast again?” I asked, selecting a few shirts from the rack for Mrs. Fitzgerald.

  He winked. “A man never tells his secrets.”

  “No. Just other people’s,” I mumbled. “What are you even doing here?” I asked as I walked to the next rack.

  “I’m here to give you the heads up, you need to find another place to stay tonight. Have a visitor that will likely be crashing with me tonight…you know, a woman.”

  “Thanks for the clarification. I was curious about what team you batted for. I’d definitely pegged you as being on the other team.”

  “Real cute, city.”

  I smirked, grabbing one last shirt. “So where do you expect me to stay?”

  “Not my problem, sweetheart. Figure you’re resourceful enough to figure that one out.”

  “That’s not very BFF of you.”

  “So, you admit it? We’re BFFs.”

  “Nope.” I turned my back to him, walking toward the dressing rooms.

  “You heard her, didn’t you little Miller?”

  “All I heard was you being a jerk and kicking Hannah out of the house so you could get laid.”

  “Hey, now!” He surrendered with his palms out. “Lower the pitch forks. This was her idea, not mine.”

  Handing Mrs. Fitzgerald a few more options, I heard another person enter the boutique. This time, my stomach did a little flip at seeing the man who walked through the door. Small-town living may not be for me, but the particular cowboy walking in sure was.

  I wasn’t normally one to like a man dressed so casually. A man dressed sleeker, especially in a fitted suit, had always been what caught my eye in the past. But the way Billy wore a pair of jeans and a tight tee made me rethink everything I ever thought was my type. His eyes zeroed in on me, and I fisted the curtain to hold myself up, the rest of the world momentarily disappearing around us.

  When Mrs. Fitzgerald screeched my name again, I wished they all would disappear. I was seconds away from dragging Billy to the stock room to have my way with him. He’d been holding out on me. And as much as I appreciated the sentiment, a woman had needs too. It didn’t help I hadn’t seen him since our date a few days ago, either. Apparently, when it was harvest time, the farmers worked long hours and seven days a week.

  “Yes, Mrs. Fitzgerald?”

  She flung the curtain open, nearly taking me down as she did, my hand still clinging to it.

  “I think I’m gonna have to wait on these items. None of them are fitting me just right today.”

  I smiled, not the least bit surprised by her decision. “Completely understand.” I took the discarded clothes from her arms, glancing over my shoulder to where Billy waited by the counter with Leighton and Wes. “We wouldn’t want you to feel anything but beautiful in the clothes you buy and wear.”

  I placed my hand on her back giving her a gentle nudge forward, urging her out the front door.

  “You have a new shipment coming in later today?”

  “Yep. I’ll have it all unpacked and displayed when we open up on Wednesday.”

  “All right, dear. I’ll see you then. Enjoy your evening.”

  “Thank you, Mrs. Fitzgerald. You too.” I gave her a small wave as she left the store.

  One down. Two more to go.

  I turned back to face the trio lingering and chatting at the cashier counter. I walked around to the opposite side of t
he counter from them, working efficiently to close things down, hoping they took the subtle hint. When they didn’t, I gave Leighton the look, shifting my eyes from her to Billy. I wanted alone time with my man, and if she didn’t catch that this time, I was going to have to get blunt. Like I said, I had needs. And I was desperate to take advantage of this unexpected visit from Billy.

  Unfortunately for me, Wes was the one to catch on to the look before Leighton. When I saw the evil grin slither on his face, I knew it was going to be bad.

  “Little Miller, I think city here wants us to leave. And trust me when I say it’s in our best interest to get out of here. When things get kinky with that one”—he pointed a thumb toward me, lowering his voice—“you want to be out of target range.”

  Leighton’s brows pinched together. “What in God’s name are you talking about, Wes?”

  “Nothing!” I sneered, glaring at him.

  Wes laughed, putting his arm around Leighton’s shoulders, moving her toward the door. I didn’t know whether to love him or hate him in that moment.

  He held the door open, his hand moving to the small of her back to allow her to step out first. With a final wink over his shoulder he yelled at the top of his lungs, “Puking rally!”

  Yep. I seriously hated that man.

  I dropped my face into my palms, unable to look at Billy.

  “Han?” I heard the humor in his voice. “You told Wes, of all people? Are you nuts?”

  I lifted my head. “No, I was drunk. And trust me, I know it was the dumbest thing I could ever do.”

  He reached for my hand, leading me around the counter to stand in front of him. His hands cupped my face, his mouth brushing a gentle kiss to my lips, pulling away far too soon for my liking. “I don’t think you have too much to worry about. The fact that he hasn’t spilled the details to the whole town means you’re probably safe to assume he won’t.”

  I wasn’t so sure I agreed, but Billy knew Wes better than I did. “What are you doing here?” I looped my arms around his waist, staring up into those big brown eyes I could drown in.

 

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