She bit her lip, God have mercy on his soul, then nodded, so he added a glug of Kraken to each mug.
She sipped her drink and shivered. “Delish.”
He sat beside her. “Still cold?”
“Just my icy toes.”
This wouldn’t do. He fetched a fuzzy blanket from the couch and laid it across his lap. “Give ‘em here.” He hauled her feet onto his lap, wrapped her bare legs in the blanket, and massaged her feet through the thick fleece.
Hannah squirmed. “I’ll get it all sandy.”
“I’ll wash it. Now quit arguing, woman.”
She giggled again at his gruff tone. God, he loved making her laugh.
While kneading her calves, he glanced at the open book. Huh. She’d been reading the same page for five minutes. Did he fluster her as much as she flustered him?
Curiosity made him as squirmy as a first grader with a head full of questions. He wanted to learn everything about Hannah, from her favorite snack to her secret fantasies. He cleared his throat.
“At the risk of sounding cheesy, how is a beauty like you single?”
She crooked a snarky smile. “I happen to love cheese.”
“Deflecting much? Don’t tell me if you don’t want to. But I’m feeling—” Searching for the right words, he dug his thumbs into the arch of her foot. Hannah closed her eyes and moaned. His dick hardened instantly.
Her chuckle turned low and throaty. “I can tell what you’re feeling.”
“Ignore him. Rude little bastard, always butting in when the conversation gets good.” He shifted on the seat and kneaded her calves.
She lifted her gaze to his again, and wow! Those eyes, deep enough to drown in, gleaming with promise.
“I want to know you better, Hannah, and I want you to know me—if you’re interested.”
She scooted closer, laying her thighs over his. “That kiss on the beach wasn’t clue enough? I’m interested, Xander.” She held his gaze for a long, smoldering moment, then sighed and leaned back against the bench. “Okay—obligatory relationship history rundown. Never married, but I’ve had serious relationships. Three, if that matters. They all ran their course. I’ve been single for a few years now.” Her sardonic laugh sounded desert-dry. “You know what they say about three strikes. Maybe I’m just no good at relationships.”
He gave her leg a squeeze. “Or maybe those three guys weren’t good at relationships.”
She lifted a shoulder. “They’re all good people. We just had different ideas about what makes a good life. The last one wanted to get married, but after Mom and Dad’s split, I didn’t have the stomach for it—standing up in front of all your friends and family, swearing to love each other till you die… Half the people who make those vows are lying.”
A weight settled in his chest. She’d been honest with him about her history, an act of trust. He owed her the same. “I wasn’t lying when I made them.”
“Oof.” She scooted backward, lifting her legs from his lap. “Let me pry this foot out of my mouth. I’m sorry, Xander. That was mega insensitive of me.”
He shrugged. It took a few years of therapy to get to this point, but he was finally able to think about his brief marriage without regret or bitterness. “We were college sweethearts, both business majors. We got married a week after graduation.”
She waited patiently, her eyes never leaving his face.
“We were too young, neither of us fully baked, you know? After a few years, we drifted apart. She went into green cosmetics, got all crunchy granola, moved to SoCal, met a guy who makes kombucha, had a bunch of free-range kids. We’re still friends.” In fact, he looked forward to Heather’s Christmas cards adorned with photos of her family. This year, they’d dressed as chefs and posed in the middle of baking cookies, their faces dusted with flour and smeared with icing. They seemed happy.
Hannah stroked his arm with her fingertips. “Nobody since then?”
His cheeks heated. “I mean, I’m not a monk, but I haven’t really prioritized relationships. Kind of hard to do that while building a business.” Since his divorce, he’d nearly convinced himself he wasn’t the coupled-up type. He had his family, a few friends—though not as many as he’d like. And he had no trouble finding willing women for casual hookups when the loneliness got to him.
He laid his arm across the seatback. A tendril of chestnut hair had escaped her wind-whipped ponytail. He wound it around his finger. “Meeting you has been a wake-up call, Hannah. I can’t stop thinking about you, can’t stop wanting you.”
The corners of her lips lifted as she removed the elastic, freeing her hair to fall in shiny waves around her shoulders. “A little crush can be a powerful distraction.”
If that wasn’t an invitation, he wasn’t Greek.
