Hanna turned back, remembering his presence.
Disengaging from Carly, she ran back to him and flung herself into his arms, squeezing him around the waist in the first real, heartfelt hug since he’d come back into her life. “Thank you, Will. I needed this.”
He smoothed a hand over her hair and kissed the top of her head. “I know.”
Will shut the door to his room, shrugged out of his suit coat, and yanked off his tie.
After pulling on some sweats and an old Nashville Cowboys T-shirt, he grabbed his laptop and settled onto his old bed.
The room was still covered in memorabilia from years gone by. Yankees pennants and little league trophies mingled with certificates from his geeky chess and math league days. He’d been a jack-of-all-trades and never really fit in with any specific crowd.
Given that he was alone on Valentine’s Day night and didn’t really have anyone he’d call a close “friend,” things hadn’t really changed that much.
He blamed it on being obsessed with his job.
Same reason he’d stayed out of the serious dating scene for so long.
But he didn’t want to analyze his love life, or lack thereof, tonight.
The list of things at Foster and Jones that needed his attention was growing by the minute, and he was determined to stay up all night if needed in order to catch up. He’d been taking care of only urgent things for the last week, and there had been a rash of those. He’d spent most of the week on the phone handling as much as possible while nature took its course on his eye.
Logging into the company’s virtual network, he clicked on his e-mail and browsed the list.
Methodically, he scanned each subject title and sender, tagging each e-mail as to importance and deleting the junk mail that hadn’t already been filtered.
Then he sorted by importance, the “red” flagged e-mails showing at top.
The e-mail that rose highest was from his ever-faithful assistant. Since she usually tried to take care of everything she could, anything she needed to address with him had to be fairly important.
Will,
Attached are scanned copies of some sales forecasts for next month Doug put on your desk. Call me when you get this, doesn’t matter the time. I’m probably working late anyway.
–Emma
He glanced at his watch. 11:15 p.m., which was 10:15 in Nashville. Surely she wasn’t still at the office.
Then he glanced at the time stamp on the e-mail.
Only twenty minutes ago.
He grabbed his phone and pressed the button. “Call Emma.”
A moment later, the night owl answered. “I was wondering how long it’d be before you called.”
“What are you still doing there? It’s late.”
“I’m worried, Will.”
Something about her voice, not to mention her words, made Will sit up straighter. “What’s going on?”
“Did you look at the report I sent you?”
The attachment. He’d almost forgotten about it. “Hadn’t gotten a chance. Saw your note and wanted to catch you before you left. Hold on, let me get it up here.”
He double-clicked the file and scanned the numbers included.
Something must be wrong. A typo. The last projections he’d seen, they were starting to trend upward. Not by much, but any improvement was better than the alternative. They’d gotten a big order from one of the major big-box stores, one that hadn’t ordered in way too long due to the drastic dip in sales.
“What’s going on, Em? This can’t be right.”
He saw the projected numbers again and just shook his head.
“I asked Doug about it, too. He said something about having to discount more than normal.”
He took a deep breath. It would be fine. Maybe just a fluke. They still had another month before the end of the fiscal year. They could make it up.
Hopefully.
Because if not, no crazy interviews or fake engagements would be able to save his hide then.
“All right. I’ll e-mail you a list of reports I want so I can double-check this. Something just doesn’t feel right about it. Can you have those to me by the end of day tomorrow?”
“I’ll try my best.”
Wait. What was he thinking? Tomorrow was Sunday. “Never mind. You can do it on Monday. I forgot it’s the weekend.”
“I planned to come in for a little while in the afternoon, anyway. I’ll get you what I can.”
He could hear the sigh in her voice. “You’re doing great, Emma. I’ll make it worth your while in the long run, I promise.”
“You keep saying that. I’m going to take you up on the offer when I’m out of school once and for all.”
William smiled. That’s the spunky assistant he knew. “I had no doubt you would. We should be flying back home on Tuesday. Thanks again for holding down the fort.”
Hanging up the phone, he no longer had the brain for the rest of the work he needed to do.
How ironic would it be to go through all this and still lose everything?
Although, if what he’d said to Hanna was true, he’d have done it regardless.
He would have—right? He hoped so anyway. She didn’t deserve what she’d been given.
Out of all the girls who’d played the TV game, she was one of the few he’d actually contemplate giving up everything to make sure she didn’t get hurt.
Hanna was different. She was classy and honest. Something about her eyes just said, “You can trust me.”
And he had.
And then like the idiot he was, he’d messed it all up.
Tossing the laptop to the side, William stood and stretched. If he was going to reawaken his brain to get any work done, he needed a kick start.
He padded down the steps to the kitchen, but as he rounded the corner, a soft body slammed into his chest, and a loud thump sounded on the floor.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Will circled the small, familiar waist in front of him and lifted Hanna to sit on the counter, away from the mess that was on the floor. And because it seemed appropriate in the déjà vu moment.
Something smooth and wet soaked through his socks, but he ignored the mushy feeling. “We have to stop meeting like this, Hanna.”
A fist clipped his shoulder. “You’re the one that scared the catfish out of me.”
“Catfish?”
In the sliver of moonlight, he could make out her slight shrug. “Dad never liked it when I said ‘crap.’ ”
Will tried not to laugh. His parents would have been thrilled if he’d used such a delicate term. “Catfish it is, then.”
“Sorry about the mess.”
He wiggled his foot and frowned. “What is that squishing between my toes?”
“Yogurt. Your mom said to help myself, and I couldn’t sleep.”
“Carly?”
“Already asleep.”
A cloud must have shifted outside the back window, because the moonlight chose that moment to shine into the kitchen and illuminate the room and Hanna with it.
She wore a fitted T-shirt with shorts shorter than he’d ever seen her in—definitely reserved for sleeping.
And her face. Her lips were tipped into an adorable frown, and her hair was in a high ponytail, making blond hair spill all around her head.
Why women ever dressed up was beyond him. This look was enough to bring a man to his knees.
There were no cameras.
No onlookers to fake out.
But he couldn’t help himself. His hands reached for her face and brought her mouth toward him. When she didn’t pull back, he covered her frown with his hungry lips.
Her sharp intake of breath almost caused him to stop, until she scooted closer and wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him back.
His brain went crazy as her lips matched his hunger, inch for inch.
This kiss was different than any other. They’d had some great ones on the show, but they had almost all been filled wi
th a bit of theatrics with cameras rolling, and even when not, there’d been a hesitance in Hanna that screamed of innocence.
And since then, all kisses had been for the sake of keeping up the ruse. Well, most of them. There were a few he’d done just to irk her.
But this.
There was nothing innocent about this kiss.
He slid his hands down her body to her hips and pulled her toward him.
That she didn’t resist thrilled him. Instead, her fingers ran through his hair and gripped the back of his head with a passion he hadn’t known she possessed.
His brain on autopilot, he let his hands shift back up her body, savoring every soft curve they met, until he heard Hanna’s gasp. Her arms shoved him away like he was a shark ready to devour her.
Which wasn’t too far from the truth.
Her breath came in shallow puffs, and her arms crossed over her chest as if trying to protect herself from him. “What do you think you’re doing?”
Good question. What had he been doing? He blinked, the heady passion melting away, replaced by an awareness of what had almost just happened.
What had they been doing? Guilt settled like a rock in his stomach, stomping out the other carnal feelings of moments ago. “I just—”
“I didn’t ask you to kiss me.”
He jerked his head back as if he’d been slapped. “You didn’t seem to object very much either.”
Even in the dim moonlight, he could see fire spewing from her eyes. “I didn’t give you permission to grope me.”
He hadn’t—okay. Maybe he’d been really close to it. “You certainly didn’t turn it down, either. Listen, we both got caught up there. It was a mistake.”
“I’m not that kind of girl, Will.”
“So what? I’m that kind of guy?”
Her eyes turned to cold stone. “You said it, not me.”
Anger replaced the raging hormones of just moments ago. He took a step toward her and, ignoring her objection, put his hands around her, lifted her off the counter, and set her on the ground, not caring about the yogurt that still covered the ceramic. “I’m sorry to break the news, Miss Virtue, but you kissed me back and were just as much a party to what we were doing as me. I wasn’t forcing you to do anything. I know my morals might not be as nice and holy as yours, but I don’t take what a woman doesn’t want to give.”
Her chin stuck out. “Well, let me just go on record as saying that I don’t want to give you anything. I want to tell our fake story and go back home, and that’s it.”
“Fine. We’ll keep the pretend kisses to a minimum and the real kisses to zero. Happy?”
She tossed her spunky ponytail and took a wide step around the mess on the floor then turned back. “You’ll keep your hands to yourself, too.”
He’d give anything to toss a nice big glob of strawberry yogurt at her right about now. “Yes, your moral highness.”
As she disappeared, he grabbed the carton of yogurt and threw it with every ounce of frustrated muscle he had in him. It thudded on the kitchen wall beside the bonus room stairs, sending more streaks of yogurt everywhere.
Just great. He should have stayed upstairs in the first place. He’d come down here to gain some energy to conquer the mess that was Foster and Jones, and now he’d added two more messes to the pot.
The only good news was—he was no longer tired.
Hanna ignored the thud that sounded on the other side of the wall as she climbed the stairs.
Men were a bunch of sex-crazed idiots.
Hanna forced herself not to stomp as she walked, but only because she really didn’t feel like facing Carly right now. She couldn’t explain the crazy jitters playing ice hockey in her stomach to herself, much less to anyone else.
Slipping into her side of the bed, she tried not to pull on the covers too much and just draped them over her waist.
What had she been thinking to let Will kiss her? This was supposed to be platonic. A game to get the media off their back.
Midnight kisses were not part of the equation.
And late-night hand roaming was definitely against the rules.
No man had ever…
She squeezed her eyes shut to block out the thought. She should have expected it from him. She’d watched the tapes of the show. Watched him being all chummy and more “handy” with the other girls than he’d been with her.
He’d always respected her. And until that final episode had aired, she’d eased her mind by convincing herself that he saw something different in her. Something innocent and worth protecting. Something worth loving. That’s why he’d chosen her above the others, right?
But tonight had just confirmed what she’d already found out so many months ago.
Maybe this was a good thing. She’d gotten sloppy. Her heart was more involved than she realized, and this was the wake-up call she needed—
Her head yanked back as a piece of her hair was given a gentle tug.
She turned to see Carly staring at her, eyebrows raised, lit only by the same moonlight that had touched Will’s features just minutes ago downstairs. “I didn’t realize you were still awake.”
“Kinda hard to sleep when your roomie sneaks out at ungodly hours of the night. What was all that racket downstairs? I almost came down to check on you.”
If Carly had walked in on them…oh goodness. Hanna was thankful for the darkness because her cheeks were probably lit up like a Christmas tree. “I was hungry and just dropped some yogurt. No biggie.”
Carly sat up and propped her head on her elbow. “Let me rephrase that. I did come down to check on you but saw you, uh, involved, so I came back up.”
This could not be happening. Hanna tugged the pillow out from under her head and smothered her face with it. There went the option of burying it deep into the recesses of her memory so she never had to think of it again, and never mentioning the humiliating experience to a living soul.
The pillow tugged out of her grasp, and her best friend and former boss sat up, legs crossed, with that “teacherly” look on her face. “Do you still love him?”
Stealing the pillow back, Hanna sat up against the headboard and hugged it to her chest. “Ew, no. Of course not. I just…he just kissed me. I wasn’t expecting it and let him.”
“Bull.”
“Excuse me?”
“You heard me. Baloney. I saw more than you think I did. And what I saw was you kissing him.”
She started to retrace the moment in her mind but shook her head. She didn’t want to remember. “No, that’s not what happened. He made me kiss him then—”
“Yeah, saw that, too.”
Oh, this was bad. Very bad. “It wasn’t my fault. He—”
“Someone needs to get off her moral high horse and face the horse manure. He kissed you. You liked it and kissed him back. Things got carried away and you let him—”
“Stop. I didn’t let him do anything. That was totally his unauthorized hand movements.”
“Honey, you authorized those hands, and you know it.”
Hanna shoved the guilt that threatened to bubble up back into its little white box where it belonged. “I didn’t authorize anything. I’m not that kind of girl.”
“Hanna, we’re all that kind of girl. I’ve been married before, remember?”
Her friend’s short marriage and subsequent divorce wasn’t something they talked about much. “It’s late, and I’m tired. And I don’t need the birds and the bees speech. I’m a grown woman.” She twisted to turn over, but the thud of a pillow landing on her head stopped her. “Did you just hit me with a pillow?”
“It’s not about the birds and the bees, Hanna. If you needed that at this stage in the game, I’d just buy you a book or something. Ugh. You act like it’s awful that he kissed you and that it’s awful that you liked it.”
“It is awful. I can’t stand the guy, much less want him kissing me.”
“He didn’t just kiss you. You, my friend, kissed him back.�
�
Hanna shook her head so fast it made her dizzy. “Did not.”
“Did to.”
“Fine. Maybe a little.”
“I’m not saying what I saw was right. You know your boundaries, and what y’all did down there was dangerously tightroping on those lines. But don’t fool yourself into thinking it was all his fault. And definitely don’t go around believing you didn’t like it. Because I saw you scoot close to him, not the other way around. I couldn’t have fit a sheet of paper between you if I tried.”
“But—”
Carly snatched back her pillow and laid down, pulling the covers up over her shoulders. “You may act all holy and righteous, Hanna. But even the holiest people have sex and like it. Just make sure you have two rings on your finger first. And word of advice. If you don’t want him sampling, you might not want to advertise.”
Hanna could no longer keep the little box in her head closed. The memories of those moments, filled with more passion than she’d ever felt before, filled her brain.
She had wanted it. A lot. Like, more than she’d ever thought a pure Christian woman would.
But advertise? No. That she hadn’t done. “I might have gone a little too far. And yeah, so I liked it. But I did not put my goods out on display.”
Carly shifted to her other side, her back now to Hanna. “All I’m saying is next time you go for a midnight snack, you might want to throw some sweats on and a bra.”
Pressing her hand to her fitted T-shirt, her palm probed for what she already knew wasn’t there.
How could she have been so dumb not to realize just how unpresentable she’d been? What must Will have thought?
As she lay down, back to Carly, she stared at the stairs William had used for the last week to come and “visit” her.
Yeah, she knew exactly what he’d thought.
And knew exactly what she’d been tempted with herself.
A sick churning of guilt gripped her middle.
Hanna didn’t feel quite so holy anymore.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Coffee.
Must. Have. Coffee.
Hanna gripped the stair rail as she attempted not to stumble down the steps. After her humiliating midnight rendezvous with Will, she’d barely been able to sleep the rest of the night. She’d even resorted to picturing sheep flying over the bed and counting them.
The Engagement Plot Page 14