No Weddings (15 page)

I rode into her driveway through a gate she’d left open in the middle of a classic white picket fence. Snowflakes fell from a darkening sky onto the gray cobblestones of her single driveway.

Her ivory house was more of a cottage, dark green shutters banking two small windows on either side of a natural wood front door. A red brick chimney rose above a gray-shingled roof, its spiraling column of smoke mixing into the clouds above.

Grabbing the now-damp brown paper bag that I’d secured to the seat behind me with a bungee cord, I glanced down the street. Lights were on in almost all of the windows. Three houses down, a four-door BMW turned, pulling into a leaf-littered driveway. The house across the street still had colored Christmas lights glowing from the eaves.

Knowing where Hannah came home to every night after she closed up shop filled me with a sense of peace, calming an unease I hadn’t known was there until that very moment. She lived in the middle of a sedate suburban neighborhood. Absent an alarm system, barking dogs, and a two-man security detail armed with semiautomatic weapons to protect her, I couldn’t imagine Hannah in a better place.

I climbed the two brick steps to her square landing and knocked on the door. It opened seconds later to her beaming smile and a blast of scents that made my mouth instantly water.

“Hey, Cade!” Before I was able to step inside, she embraced me in a full hug—our first. I held her tight, inhaling her tropical scent as I relished the full-body contact.

Although the hug didn’t mean much on the outside—it was a common way of greeting, after all—and it paled in comparison to our embrace that night on Kristen’s dock, it still meant a great deal to me for Hannah to offer.

Another deep breath brought in the incredible scents of her kitchen. “Damn, woman.” I searched over her shoulder when she broke our contact and ushered me inside. “What’re you cooking in there? I’ve died right here on your doorstep and gone to heaven.”

She laughed, crossing her arms over her chest. She wore a green sweater, its V-neck teasing forward a nice amount of cleavage with her stance. “You think you’ve earned heaven?”

I snorted. “
Hell
no. But a man can hope.”

She grinned, eyes glinting with humor. “You better earn it, Cade. Good things only come to those who deserve it.”

“Are we talking about food?” I had a strong feeling we weren’t. And I was
so
on board with the earning thing. Food and otherwise.

Hannah’s game was in full force, though. She simply licked her lips, regarding me, then smirked and disappeared around the corner.

I stood there holding the bag. Literally.

Exhaling, I studied the furnishings of the small living room. One floor lamp in the far corner and two table lamps were lit. The bright space was comfortable; two worn chairs in pale yellow fabric sat by the window, angled toward each other with a small maple table in between. A chess set carved of semiprecious stones, one side appearing to be obsidian and the other jade, sat on the square tabletop. A built-in bookshelf filled with well-worn but clearly loved books lined the wall. Across from the chairs was a matching sofa with two colorful pillows.

“I’m opening every cabinet and drawer now…” I called out, smiling as I lifted a silver picture frame. A teenaged version of Hannah stood in an elderly woman’s embrace. A frame beside it held a younger woman and a little girl.

“I’d expect nothing less,” she replied from behind white painted shutters that had been closed, screening what would have been an open window area between the rooms.

A metal bang sounded out, and I imagined it was the oven door. Fresh scents bombarded me. Feeling like a peeping tom who’d trespassed inside, I abandoned my investigating. I’d rather do my snooping under her watchful gaze. When I could tease her mercilessly.

Following the sounds and smells, I rounded the corner and entered a decent-sized kitchen. “My God. What is all this?”

Hannah stood by a small table for two in front of a bay window. She put down a platter between two place settings. “Duck à l’orange, braised parsnips and golden beets with shallots, and sautéed sugar snap peas.” She came toward me, picking up a dark wine bottle with two hands, angling the label forward for my approval. “And an Argentinian malbec.”

“Did you make dessert?” I glanced back over to the table. Three small candles flickered in squat glass holders.

A delicate brow arched. “What do you think?”

I smirked. “I think you’re trying to impress me.” I smiled at her soft laugh.

“Do I need to impress you?”

I shook my head. “No. Not even a little.”

When I set the brown paper bag down on marble surface of her small rolling kitchen island, her gaze shifted to it. “What’s that?”

“Ah, ah, ah, that is for after dinner.” I grasped her shoulders, turning her back toward the table as she grabbed the neck of the wine bottle. I swiped the bottle opener from her counter and took the bottle from her.

After I poured us each a glass, I glanced up and out through the largest of the three windows to the view behind her house. Garden lights edged a large deck and a walkway that led to a wide body of water. Across the way, the lighting of another house shimmered off the waves.

“Nice view.” I sat across from her, holding my glass up.

“Thanks.” She raised hers.

Normally we toasted silly things. Once, Ben toasted Mase’s left shoe—that it always be next to his right.

I tilted my head. “Why don’t you give the toast tonight?” This was her house, and she’d never been given a turn. Overrun by three hungry overbearing men, she’d hardly had the chance.

Her expression softened as she glanced down to the table in thought. When her gaze met mine, her eyes blazed with passion. “To business partners and friends.”

And so much more.
She didn’t voice the thought, maybe she wasn’t ready. But I saw the desire in her eyes.

“I’ll drink to that.” Friends for now, so much more would come in time.

As we dug into the delicious meal she’d made, she grew quiet. Although the silence was comfortable, my curiosity won out. “Do you own this house?”

She nodded, swallowing down a sip of wine. “It was Gran’s. She raised me through high school and died just last year.”

“Something happened to your parents?”

Her expression fell, sadness shadowing her eyes. “Parent. My mom was a single parent. She’d never been sick a day in her life. Then she got food poisoning and died in the hospital.”

“Oh, God, I’m so sorry, Hannah.”

“It’s okay. Gran and I had already been close.”

“No brothers or sisters?”

“Nope.” She leaned over and whispered, “No dog or cat either.”

I laughed. “Is that an important item to take note of? Are you allergic? Do I have to take back the kitten in the paper bag?”

She gaped, turning to stare at the bag on the island. “There is
not
an animal in that bag.”

I snorted. “No, there isn’t.”

Regardless, she held a dubious expression and stared at the bag for several more seconds before shifting her attention back to me.

I put down my fork, wiping my mouth with my napkin. “I don’t have any pets either. We did growing up, but I haven’t since I bought the house. Mason keeps hounding me to get a dog. I told him no dog. No cat. No bird. No turtle. A goldfish would be doable, but only because we could flush it when it dies. That’s how anti-commitment I’ve become.”

She gasped. “You would not flush a goldfish!”

I arched my brows. “Only after it
died
. I’m not a goldfish murderer.”

Laughing, she shook her head, like she couldn’t quite figure me out.

Well, that made two of us, because in the next breath after saying how noncommittal I was, I felt drawn toward her in a way I hadn’t with anyone in a long time. And it scared the shit out of me. But even knowing how I could be hurt again, betrayed to my core, I still couldn’t fight how I felt about Hannah.

Unthinking, I blurted, “I think we need to go out.”

Her brow furrowed. “Go out where?”

“On a date.”

She blinked. “What about your rule? What about your sisters?”

I blew out a hard breath. A twinge of guilt tripped through me, but I banished it as quickly as it appeared. The Cade who my sisters made promise not to fuck the clients or the help wasn’t sitting here with Hannah. And Hannah was not “the help” to me.

And as much as I advocated no fraternizing in the workplace, something had shifted inside me, knocking me off-kilter. In fact, the ongoing shift kept unbalancing me every time I was around her.

Hannah had become the exception to every rule.

“Forget what I said. Clearly, the rule was made to be broken with us. I know you feel a magnetic pull between us just as strongly as I do.”

Her brow furrowed. “But you just said you’ve become noncommittal.”

I gave her a hard stare. “You make me want to reform.”

She tilted her head a fraction, eyes narrowing. “I think the first step would involve burning one yellow sticky-note list.”

I leaned toward her. “Hannah, from the moment I realized you were more than a business partner, that list ceased to exist for me. I will
torch
the damn thing.”

Her expression darkened, her hands clasped tightly together on the table. “Because I could never be a girl you would ever put on a list.”

I put my hands over hers. “Look, I know the idea of that list is intimidating. Don’t let it be. They were just girls. It was just sex. Some guys turn to alcohol or drugs. Others get professional therapy. That list was my therapy.”

Her gaze fell to the table, her voice quiet. “I could never have ‘just sex.’”

I lifted my hand and, with a gentle finger beneath her chin, lifted her face until her big eyes met mine. “You will never have ‘just sex’ with me. When we decide we’re ready, it will be a mind-blowing heart and body experience.”

She fought a smile. “That good, huh?”

I smirked. “Yeah. That good.”

Her expression turned serious again. “How long do we have to wait for that?”

I coughed out a laugh, leaning back in my chair.

Her look grew pensive.
She
is
serious.

My smile faded. “Do you want it to be tonight?”

She stared at me, giving the matter thought, then shook her head.

I tilted my head, holding her gaze. Now that she’d brought it up, I wanted the topic to play out. “Why?”

She smiled shyly, turning away from me, staring out at the water beyond the windows. “I’m not sure.” She shrugged. “I guess I’m not ready yet.”

I’d thought as much. Hannah was a date kind of girl. She wasn’t a girl you got only physical with. She was a girl you got
everything
with.

“How long has it been since…” I didn’t know what to call it. The Ultimate No-Show? The Jilting?

Her gaze shifted to meet mine. The sparkle in those beautiful eyes went flat. “Since I was stood up at my wedding? Nineteen months.”

I leaned forward, taking her hands in mine. “And have you seen anyone since then?”

A slow shake of her head.

“Not even one date? Coffee?”

“No. Nothing.”

I suddenly understood the ice-queen demeanor. It only appeared as a protective mechanism, showing itself when potential suitors were in the vicinity. The shield had been activated like a blinding neon sign when I’d first met her at the grand opening of Loading Zone, warding off any and all men. The cold, hard mask was an effective deterrent. Men didn’t want to try that hard to see beneath a woman’s armor.

But it wasn’t Hannah’s true self. This was.

She hadn’t put on her armor for Ben and Mase because, in her mind, they would never bother trying. And she was right. That was my territory, and guys had an unwritten man code: you don’t poach another man’s girl, no matter the reason for her being there—friends, cooking, or otherwise.

I nodded. “And now? Do you think you’re ready to try coffee? Or maybe a date?”

Her answer didn’t matter. She would be going out on a date with me. This didn’t count. Our dinners were only glorified prearranged business meetings and fell into the safe zone.

A date was a risk. Hopes were thrown out there and leaps of faith were taken, no matter how small the steps were, even if safety line calls had been staged with friends as an exit strategy.

No, I didn’t want Hannah in the safe zone. She would take that risk and make that death-defying decision with me, heart racing, fears and all.

Hopeful eyes that sparkled rose, meeting mine. Her small smile widened. “Yes.”

I arched a brow, my heart nearly bursting from my chest. “Yes, what?”

“Yes, Cade. I will go out on a date with you.”

“Excellent.” I blew out a held breath, grinning wide and leaning back.

Her expression grew serious again. “Now, what’s in the bag?”

H
annah didn’t have a television in the front room. She didn’t have a back room. The cottage-style home had a smaller room adjacent to the living room filled with drawings, paintings, books, and photo boxes. And off the kitchen was a bedroom suite, equally as large, with another bay window and an amazing view of reflected lights on the water beyond.