Her words echoed in my head, and I settled on a memory, as I washed my hair…
He slipped into the shower behind me and pulled me back against his body. His hands roamed a little bit as he spoke. "Have you talked with your father yet?"
I stepped away from him, irritated, and started to lather my hair, ignoring the question.
"You need to settle things with him, beautiful."
I shook my head at him, annoyed. "You don't get it. He's impossible. He doesn't understand what we have. He thinks I'm acting irrationally. He insists he knows what I'm feeling, because he felt that way with my mother. He thinks I just need to let you go, so my hormones will settle down."
He pulled me tight against him, as I fought off tears. "I'm sorry, beautiful. He's just worried you're gonna get hurt. That's just how dads are programmed."
"That's how dads are programmed?" I sassed. "How would you know anything about being a dad?"
"I'll be a dad someday, and if my daughter ran away across the country with a man she'd met just a few hours earlier, I’d lock her in a basement and have her treated at a mental health facility. Let's just pray our daughter doesn't give us the gray hairs you're giving your father."
"Our daughter?" His words had me so worked up. I didn't know if I’d ever get used to the way we were. Everything in my world revolved around him, and I suspected it was the same for him. He revolved around me, always finding new ways to make me happy. He wanted babies with me, and I wanted to give them to him.
"Our daughter will be just as beautiful as her mummy."
"And what are we naming this daughter of ours?"
"Easy, Penelope Lane, so we can call her Penny Lane. She is half English, after all," he grinned and then started singing the famous Beatle’s song, Penny Lane.
I reached back, smacking his butt. "You cheeky boy."
He started singing louder about a fireman keeping his engine clean, as he washed me seductively. I laughed, loving him so much. I wanted everything with him, and I knew he'd give it to me.
I was frustrated that I hadn’t seen his face again, but one thing troubled me, and it made me wonder if I was making up all these memories in my head. He’d spoken about my father, as if my dad had known a lot more about him. I just couldn’t fathom that I would’ve never told him more about him. My dad should've known more about my missing boyfriend, and he should’ve been able to tell me what I’d told him, when I’d first woken up from my coma. It just seemed like he should've been able to help me find him.
I was brought out of my musings by my phone ringing. I hopped out of the shower, drying off as I moved, and answered the phone.
"Hello, Ophelia."
"Hannah, I'm running a little late this morning, but Camille is going to meet you at the shop. It was easier to just give her a card with your address on it, instead of trying to look up the address of the coffee shop."
"That's fine."
"I don't know how long she'll want to stay. Her brother was sick last night. It's not uncommon to get sick when traveling, but this seemed different. Something is definitely up with him."
"I wouldn't get too worked up about it, Ophelia. Didn't Carter say they'd only be here for a week?"
"Yes, it sucks. I'm really having fun with Camille."
I couldn't help but snicker. "Yeah, I've noticed. You guys are two shopping peas in a pod. By the way, you're not dragging me along again today. You two are on your own."
"Fine, but you’d better make our coffee time count. I expect a few donuts to be consumed, along with a second drink to wash it down."
"You're silly, but I'll agree to your terms." I had to if I wanted to get her off the phone and get dressed.
Shawna knocked on the door and let me know she was taking Penelope downstairs to pick a book to share at school.
When I came down the steps into the shop, Mr. Greyson was looking at my little Penny with such worry that it unnerved me. I was ready for Shawna to take her to school and get her away from him. He caused such mixed reactions in me, it was insane. I felt compelled to be near him, but terrified by the way he looked at me and now my daughter. I didn't understand what was wrong with me. I wished my body would just make up its mind already.
WILLIAM
Camille's banging on my bedroom door woke me up from my restless sleep. I’d wanted to see Hannah immediately after I knew it was her for sure. I had to see her, but my sister pointed out that I didn't know her home address, and her little shop was closed.
"Up and at 'em, Brother, we're having coffee with the girls at eight thirty."
The prospect of seeing Hannah again was exciting and terrifying all at the same time. While I was in the shower, Camille laid out my clothes for me. I was surprised by what she'd chosen. It was very casual, jeans and a t-shirt. I put them on, a little confused. When Camille saw the look on my face, she smiled.
"I'm guessing that's the way you used to dress, it might jog her memory."
I hugged my sister. "Thanks, Camille."
She was surprised, when I insisted on stopping and buying flowers for Hannah. "They said she doesn't date. I have to make a good impression if I'm going to get her dating again."
I picked up a bouquet of hyacinths. They’d always been her favorite, and I wondered if they still were. As we walked up to her bookshop, my chest started to clench. What if she didn't want me anymore? Camille pushed me forward through the door. My eyes landed on the only two people in the little shop, a dark-haired woman and a little girl with curly copper hair.
"Come on, sweetie, pick a book already," she said.
I wondered if my daughter looked anything like this little girl. Her hair was the same color as mine back when I’d been little. God, please let Hannah not have been raped, I pleaded silently. Hannah came trotting down the stairs. She smiled at Camille and then looked uneasily at me, as I diverted my eyes from the little girl to her.
"Hey, Camille, it's good to see you again."
I felt panicked and feared I was going to be sick. Ophelia had told Hannah I wasn't feeling well last night, and she was looking at me as if she thought I just might be sick again.
"Are you alright, Mr. Greyson?"
I tried to draw air into my lungs, but I couldn't. I held up the flowers for her, and she smiled, but looked confused.
"Thank you, that was very kind of you." She turned to the dark-haired woman. "Shawna, could you put these in water for me?"
Shawna looked at the flowers and then at me and smiled widely.
"Penelope, have you picked your book yet?" Hannah asked the little girl, and I just about collapsed when she turned to Hannah. She had my striking violet eyes, and she looked just like me. She was without a doubt my daughter. The little girl ran up to her to show her mother a book.
"This one! I'll bet I can read it all by myself."
"Wonderful. Go put it in your backpack, and don't forget your piano book, too. You have lessons today at Uncle Carter's house, remember?"
Piano, she was taking piano lessons. I swelled with pride. My daughter took after me. I had to pull myself together if I was going to win over Hannah and get to help raise my daughter.
"So, Ophelia tells us your name is actually Hannah," I said, trying to engage her in conversation and steady myself.
She jumped at the sound of my voice, and her eyes flashed to me, as her face flooded with the beautiful blush I remembered. She looked at me for a moment, but then turned and shook her head, finding her voice again.
"Yes, Hannah Madison." She seemed to be trying to gather herself together enough to turn and look at me. When she did, a deep blush filled her cheeks again. Camille bumped me and looked curiously between the two of us.
"Will Ophelia be joining us?" Camille asked to distract her and give me a moment to check myself.
"Yes, she was running late and will be meeting us at the coffee shop. Wasn't there someone else with you as well?"
"Yes, Duncan, he and Carter are working this morning, William took of
f."
"Right, because you weren't feeling well. Are you sure you're up for going out?" she asked me nervously, almost as if she were hoping I’d back out. Not a chance.
"Yes, I'm actually feeling much better this morning. Shall we?" I opened the door for them.
I let the girls walk ahead of me, and I watched the sway of Hannah's hips like a starving man. I’d missed that and ached to be near her, to touch her again. The memory of her moving against me flooded my mind, and I was lost in my daydreams, until we reached the coffee shop.
"You ladies go ahead and find a table, and I'll get our drinks," I told them. I remembered how she liked her coffee and smiled as I ordered it with one and one half teaspoons of sugar. The half always made me laugh. I grabbed two creamers for her and brought the drinks to the table. She was surprised, when I slid both creamers in front of her.
"Thank you, Mr. Greyson."
HANNAH
Camille was already drinking what he’d bought her, and I wondered how he knew I’d like two creamers, but I pushed that thought aside. It was probably just an odd guess. I reached for the sugar on the table, but he stopped me by placing his hand over mine. Another charge shot through my body, and I blushed deep red again.
"Just add your creamers and try it. I think I got it right."
I looked at him as if he had a third head. I mixed the creamers into my cup and sipped it. It was just how I liked my coffee.
"It's perfect. Thank you, Mr. Greyson."
"Please, call me William."
"Thank you…William." When I said his name, my mind filled with an image of me saying his name again. But I was whispering it like a reverent prayer in the throes of passion, and he was groaning my name, saying “my beautiful Hannah” in return. I blushed darker and jumped up, as if something had bitten me. I’d never thought of anything like that about anyone before.
"I need to go."
Camille looked at me worried, and William looked pained again as he asked, "Hannah, are you alright?"
The way he said my name made it worse, and I couldn't breathe. What was wrong with me? Was I fantasizing about William? I knew people did that, but I never had before.
"Thank you, for the coffee, but I just remembered something, I need to..." I ran for the door and stumbled into Ophelia.
"Hey, where are you going?" Ophelia asked, as she read the deep blush on my face. "Are you okay?"
I shook my head no and quickly pushed past Ophelia. I had to get out of there.
I ran to my store and then quickly closed up and locked the door, before I slid down it. I didn't know what was happening to me. I’d never thought that way about any guy, so why was I all of the sudden fantasizing about William Greyson? Even as his name and face came to my mind, more images pushed forward, and I blushed across my entire body. I’d never been touched or held the way I was imagining him doing it. It scared me how quickly my body responded just thinking of him and his touch. What the hell was wrong with me?
Chapter 6 – Chaise
HANNAH
My thoughts of William scared me and made me want to hide. I ran to the back corner of the shop and quickly curled into a small ball on my favorite chaise, wrapping my arms around myself. I was fighting off my thoughts, mad at myself for imagining things about a complete stranger. What was wrong with me? I heard the door handle jiggle and then the lock click. It had to be Carter or Ophelia.
"Hannah," Ophelia called out, "Are you okay?"
I took a deep breath before I answered, "Yes," but it came out shakier than I would’ve liked.
Ophelia stepped into the aisle and looked at me with concern. I was finally settling down, that was until Camille came into view and then William. My heart jumped, like it was trying to escape from my chest. He looked at me, worried and sad.
"May I have a moment with Hannah?" he asked, and my breath hitched when he said my name. Ophelia and Camille nodded, leaving us alone in the darkened corner of the store. Suddenly, the air seemed too thick, and my body was on fire.
Stop thinking about him! I screamed in my head to myself, but I couldn't, images were rolling through my mind like a movie, and I couldn't stop it. I wanted to tell Ophelia not to leave me alone with this man, but my voice had escaped me. What the hell was my problem? And why did my lady parts feel like they were curling with excitement? This was so wrong, so embarrassing that he could do this to me.
He walked so carefully towards me, each step measured, as if he was afraid I’d bolt.
"Hannah," he whispered my name, and I closed my eyes, hoping if I didn't look at him, I’d imagine less, but it made it worse. "I'm sorry if I did something to offend you."
I was trying to hear his words, but his rich voice was just too much.
"Hannah," he said much closer to me now. I opened my eyes to find him kneeling right in front of me on the chaise. I suddenly couldn't breathe, as his eyes met mine. "Are you alright?" he asked softly, leaning in much too close as he crawled over me. It was all I could do not to wrap my limbs around him.
My body was screaming for him, and I was ashamed of my reactions. He smiled softly at my flushed face and my ragged breathing, but I wasn't crying. He gently touched my face, as he moved between my knees, pressing his body down into mine, and that same energy pulsed between us. I clenched my eyes closed tightly and held my breath. My trembling body was exploding under his touch, and I had to fight to keep from crying out and arching into him. I couldn’t believe I could come undone so fast.
"Come to dinner with me, Hannah," he whispered into my ear, as his cheek pressed against mine, and his hot breath stroking my neck. My mind was fresh with the words, “Come with me, Hannah.” He placed an open-mouthed kiss on my neck then moved back and smiled, as if he knew what he was doing to me. "I’ll pick you up at seven."
He didn't wait for my response. He just stood and left.
I was still gasping for air, when Ophelia found me again. "What’s going on with you?" she asked.
I shook my head in frustration. I had no idea what was going on with me. I’d never felt anything like that, or had thoughts like that about anyone before, ever. No one seemed to grab my attention enough to make me even consider thinking about them like that.
I was blushing, horrified with myself. I wanted to talk to Ophelia, but I had to make sure no one came in while I did. I stood on shaky legs, baffled that a man could have such an effect on me. I quickly locked the door and turned to see a concerned Ophelia.
"What did he do to you? Why did you run out of the coffee shop?"
I shook my head. "I don't know what’s wrong with me, Ophelia. He just bought me a coffee and asked me to call him William, and I lost it when he said my name, and then I said his. I don't know what’s wrong with me."
Ophelia looked at me as if I was an alien. "He said your name, and you said his?"
I blushed at her question. "God, Ophelia, I can't believe I’m about to tell you this." I slid down the door and hid my face in my hands. "I was thinking…things…about him when he said it."
"Thinking things? What things were you thinking?"
"Things I shouldn't. I don't know. Things I’ve never thought about before."
"You’ve never…Oh, my God, you were thinking about having sex with him?"
My face turned a deeper red than it ever had in my entire life.
"Hannah, that’s fantastic!"
"No, it’s not, Ophelia! He asked me to dinner and touched my face, and I was a complete mess. I can't go out with him!"
"Why not?"
"Because I’m not that kind of girl."
"What kind of girl?"
"The kind who goes out with a guy and has sex with him. I don't do that!"
Ophelia rolled her eyes. "I know that."
"Ophelia, how am I supposed to control myself around him, when he can do…that…to me just by saying my name and touching my cheek? I’m a disgraceful mess."
"You need to get the upper hand on him."
"What?"
"He said he was coming at seven o’clock this evening." I blushed at my own words. God, I was a mess. Could I do this?
Ophelia just smirked at me, as if she knew what my dirty mind was thinking. "Well then, we’ll have you ready and in control by seven."
I looked at her unsure, but nodded okay.
What in heaven’s name was I getting myself into?
WILLIAM
My heart was leaping out of my chest. I was going to tell her tonight, and my mind was running wild with ways to say it and how she’d react. I rehearsed my speech a hundred times and tried to prepare for every question she might come up with. My biggest fear was trying to explain the reason I’d stopped looking for her. Well, I hadn’t actually stopped looking for her. I still had a private investigator searching for her. They’d just never found anything, though.
She’d always been a daddy’s girl, since she’d lost her mother at the age of eight. The way she talked about her father that first night we’d met, I could tell she’d thought he could do no wrong. He was a Detective in Silver Springs. She still thought of him as a superhero, even beyond where most kids would’ve grown out of that notion and stopped believing it at a very young age. She hadn’t, though, and that was why her father not supporting our relationship had hurt her so much and made her furious at the same time. If she couldn’t remember Scott’s fall from grace, then that meant he most likely still hadn’t fallen in her eyes. She’d be more likely to take his word over mine. I needed her to believe, more than anything, that I loved her.
I was at the shop at seven o’clock sharp. I’d brought another bouquet of hyacinths, but they were a different color. The bell rang as I stepped inside. I could hear my daughter laughing upstairs, and my chest ached. I wanted to see her smile. My silent request was answered, as the little girl came running down the stairs. She tripped on the last step, and I caught her and helped her up, thinking she did take after her mother, at least in that department.
In Love with a Stranger Page 4