Total pages in book: 149
Estimated words: 138965 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 695(@200wpm)___ 556(@250wpm)___ 463(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 138965 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 695(@200wpm)___ 556(@250wpm)___ 463(@300wpm)
‘What?’ she asks quietly, confused.
I close my eyes and take a breath. ‘You’re not the kind of woman a man fucks, Hannah.’ I look at her so she sees my struggle. My shame. ‘And all I’ve ever done is screw women.’
Her eyes go unfathomably wide. I can’t be sure if she’s shocked or thrilled. Both? ‘Wow,’ she breathes, and I conclude it’s the former.
‘Yeah,’ I say, a little shyly. ‘It’s very unlike me.’ Good God, I’m saying plenty, but all the wrong words. I inhale and search for some way to untangle my thoughts before they fall past my lips and she’s running again. I look up to the sky, welcoming the fat drops of rain hitting my face. ‘From the moment I watched you crawl out of the bushes covered in paint, I’ve had the unrelenting urge to kiss you every time I’ve seen you.’
‘And you’ve tried to kiss me,’ she counters softly.
I drop my gaze but not my head. ‘Are you expecting an apology?’
She shakes her head.
‘Good.’ A flash of lightning illuminates the sky, and suddenly the beauty of her face is crystal clear. It’s disarming, and my thoughts are suddenly pouring from my mouth. ‘God, Hannah, I think you’re the most stunning woman I’ve ever met.’
A small, embarrassed smile tweaks the corner of her mouth, her arms pulling the blanket in as she looks away from me. ‘Beauty is a curse.’
I don’t like her counter, and I especially hate the idea that that’s all she thinks I care about. But actually, I wasn’t referring to her looks, though she really is beautiful. Naturally so.
‘I was talking about your soul,’ I say, ready to put it all out there. ‘Your quirkiness. Your carefree nature. Your passion for all things paint and messy, and your absolute indifference for anything materialistic. Your simplistic lifestyle. Your fucking dungarees and those scarves you tie in your hair. Your makeup-free face and natural raspberry scent.’ Hannah Bright defies the composition of a woman in every way. She’s unique. Beautiful without trying. Sexy without trying. Tempting without trying. I can’t shake off the notion that she’s not only not trying, but doing everything in her power not to be those things at all. To be a wallflower. To blend into the crowd. To live her life under the radar. She’s failed. She’s on my radar – a huge, bright, flashing blip. But as if her wildness isn’t enough of a draw to me, the secrets I sense she’s keeping are only amplifying my curiosity.
She looks at me, and I see with perfect clarity that she loves what I love about her. I reach forward and slip my hand into hers, squeezing. ‘So what do you like about me?’
Her lips twist, a smile threatening as her gaze drags over my face. ‘Your smile is crooked.’
‘Hazard of my past job.’
‘And your nose is crooked.’ Her own nose wrinkles as she speaks.
‘I had a fight with an axe.’ I shrug, remembering teaching Alex how to swing. I didn’t anticipate her strength. Or the speed at which she would bring the blade down, cracking me on the nose with the handle as I was moving out of her way. My eyes fall onto the bridge of Hannah’s nose and the small bump there. ‘And you’re hardly Miss Straight Nose yourself,’ I say gently.
Her finger immediately goes to it, feeling. ‘I was going to have it fixed.’
‘Don’t. It’s perfect.’ I shift the hold of my hand in hers and lace our fingers together. ‘We’re really wet.’
She looks up to the sky, closes her eyes, and smiles. ‘I hadn’t noticed.’
Good. She’s as oblivious to the world happening as I am when we’re together. ‘Come to bed with me?’ I ask gently, and her head drops fast. I stare at her deeply, mentally begging for her to agree. The tiniest of nods is all I need, and I get it. So I walk us back to the cabin and into the warmth, and I lead her all the way to my bedroom. I pull the heavy blanket from her shoulders and let it drop to the floor in a wet heap, then wait for her to face me again before I push my sweatpants down my thighs. She keeps her gaze on my eyes.
I have her. And it’s a revelation to me, but I’m silently wondering how I can keep her. I don’t like the pang of pain that stabs at my heart.
Because once again, something deep and unshakable is telling me she isn’t available.
Chapter 11
HANNAH
Ryan won’t make the first move, I know that, so I look at him, taking in the scar on his lip before reaching up and tracing the length of it. I feel his hand slip onto my lower back and apply a light pressure, just enough to tug me in. I breathe out, the feeling of our skin touching taking my breath away. He feels so warm. So firm. So strong. I look into his eyes. They’re lazy. Shining with want.