Authors: Jill Shalvis
Zach didn't take his eyes off Hannah. "We should talk, don't you think?"
"Talk?" Tara's eyebrows disappeared into her bangs. "About what?"
"Let me get you something to drink," Hannah said quickly. She headed toward the counter for a mug. She picked up the pot of coffee, mind racing. What was protocol for this morning-after stuff, because though they hadn't actually done
it,
they
had
slept together, and she was clueless.
Was there some special ritual? Some special code?
She could ask Michael, but she was beginning to think he didn't have a clue about his own species.
Music, candles and a condom?
That was all he'd had to offer? And anyway, she could have figured out the condom part by herself.
She held the mug up to Zach. "Condom?" she asked, then gaped at him, horrified. "I mean coffee!
Coffee!"
"Wait, did you say … condom?" Alexi asked her in disbelief.
Hannah didn't dare look at her, or at Tara for that matter, who was now bent over, practically rolling with laughter.
Denial,
she decided quickly. "No," she said with as much dignity as she could muster. "I most definitely did not say … say …
that."
"Condom?" Tara broke in oh-so-helpfully. "Is that the word you're looking for?"
"I think that's the one," Alexi said, grinning and nodding.
"I did
not
say that word," Hannah said, giving up on dignity because really, after this, there was none to be had.
"Oh, but you did," said Tara with a wide smile. "You most definitely did. Didn't she, Alexi? Say the word condom?"
Zach just looked at the mug, his mouth twitching suspiciously.
Hannah had to hand it to him. Other than that twitch, he remained completely cool, and despite her blunder, some semblance of relief filled her because he wasn't going to add to her misery.
But then he spoke.
"Thanks," he said easily, blowing into the steaming coffee before speaking again. "Oh, and if you don't mind, I'll take it extra large— Er, I mean with sugar."
He shot her an innocent smile while her supposedly best friends roared with laughter.
Chapter 6
Z
ach didn't know what to think. He'd come back to Avila to heal, to recover, to regain his strength, and yes, to get his first mental break in far too long.
He'd actually needed the mental break more than he'd thought. Sleeping, eating, healing. More sleeping. This had been his plan.
After a good amount of that, he'd head out of this sleepy town and go back to Los Angeles, refreshed and ready to rock and roll. Ready to take on his job.
No attachments.
But all that had been before last night, and though nothing had happened between him and Hannah—nothing
could
happen between them—it had been a most incredible, erotic night.
Suddenly, he didn't recognize his plan anymore.
He should shrug it—and Hannah—off, just enjoy the rest of this vacation. But he couldn't seem to do that. For one thing, he was confused about last night and his feelings for Hannah. He'd assumed he'd feel brotherly toward her, but brotherly had been the last thing he'd felt.
Distance. He needed it. To help him get it, he went for a walk through the grounds. The lodge was beautiful, with the cabinlike architecture made famous in the early 1930s. High wood-beam ceilings, log walls, and beautiful, polished hardwood floors. Every room was a masterpiece. The garden, too, with its lush and wild colors, so beautifully bordered by the Pacific Ocean.
It all called to him on some deep level he hadn't expected; the salty breeze, the wide, open beach, the crashing waves. He'd lived here, had grown up here. Back then he couldn't wait to get out. It was all he'd wanted.
So why did it feel so good to be back?
Whatever the reason, he renewed his promise to himself to dig up a surfboard and revisit his wild adolescence.
"Psst."
Zach turned around. Mrs. Schwartz was leading her husband out of the gardens by the hand, though the man was grinning at Zach over his shoulder as he went.
"Don't forget … east end beach!" he whispered conspiratorially.
Zach laughed and waved. "Got it. Thanks for the babe tip."
The older man winked and disappeared out of the garden.
Zach skipped east end beach—wasn't quite in the babe-hunting frame of mind—and found the ice-cream/gift shop. He figured if he was abstaining from babes, he might as well get a cone. The shop wasn't crowded. He wended his way through to the order counter. To his surprise, he found Hannah on her hands and knees behind it, squinting at a low shelf of what was clearly an inventory closet. Her long, wavy hair fell past her shoulders, and was obviously in her way because she tossed it back with impatience, her face drawn in concentration.
Kneeling next to her was a young woman with startlingly green hair.
"The skin flashing thing … it didn't work," Hannah was saying to her as she foraged into the shelf.
"You're kidding! Are you sure you made it clear what you were trying to do?" the green-haired woman asked. "I mean, men aren't usually that slow."
"So I've heard," Hannah muttered. "Couldn't tell by my ridiculous attempts though." She sat back on her heels and smiled ruefully. "I'm getting ready to pack it in and consider myself a virgin until the end of time."
It was a good thing Zach hadn't gotten his ice cream yet or he'd have swallowed it whole.
"You just need to try again," Green Hair said kindly, patting Hannah's hand. "You're so smart and funny. And pretty, too. Honestly, you'll get it right."
"I'd settle for just getting
it."
Karrie laughed while Zach forgot to breathe.
"Maybe try another man entirely?" Green Hair suggested.
"I like
this
man."
"Well, try again then."
"A new plan?" Hannah asked hopefully. "I really like a good plan."
They were talking about
him,
Zach realized, stunned.
"Hey, that dress you're wearing is pretty terrific," the young woman told Hannah. "Good, soft material. Very clingy in all the right places. Has he seen you in it yet?"
"This morning, but I didn't exactly get the reaction I wanted."
"Make sure he feels the material, with his fingers. Guys are really into the physical."
The
physical
part of Zach's existence was beginning to make itself known. He just couldn't absorb it all quickly enough. Hannah—a virgin, but not wanting to be a virgin, and not wanting to be one with
him.
"He needs to touch the dress?" Hannah asked her doubtfully. "Really?"
"Oh yeah. And make sure you send all the right signals while you're doing it. Give him the dreamy eyes and soft sighs and everything."
"That part won't be difficult."
Zach didn't know whether to be flattered, annoyed or stunned. So he settled for all three.
That was the exact moment Hannah caught sight of him. "Oh…" was all she said, blushing. She surged to her feet, tripping awkwardly over the skirt of her dress. "Hey, would you look at that? It's break time already, Karrie."
"But I just got here." Karrie peered at her black, spiked watch.
"Yeah, well, this is National Take - A - Break - Every - Five - Minutes Day. Enjoy it."
"You're making that up."
"Five minutes," Hannah said firmly, still staring at Zach. She continued to stare at him while Karrie left. "Hi."
"Hi back," he said. "I'm not sure what to say."
"Well, that would depend on how much you heard." She looked mortified. "Feel free to lie and tell me you heard nothing."
"I heard everything."
She took that in with a little nod. "And here I thought it couldn't get worse."
A woman in her midtwenties walked by. She didn't have green hair, but was so beautiful, she looked almost unreal. When she saw Hannah, she stopped short and … giggled, ruining the effect.
"So … did any of those tips we gave you work for you last night?" She glanced sideways at Zach, sizing him up.
Hannah looked as if she wanted a hole to open up and swallow her. "Maybe we could discuss this another time," she suggested to the woman.
The woman grinned at Zach. "Sure."
Zach waited until they were alone again. "Let me get this all straight. Last night … you were trying to…"
"Yes," she said miserably. "And to tell you the truth, I'd rather you didn't tell me how ridiculous it was."
"I … wouldn't do that."
"Really?" She smiled a little. "You're awfully kind."
That made him laugh. "Hannah, kind is about the last thing I'm feeling at this moment."
"What are you then?"
Turned on, dammit.
"I'm not sure."
She thought about that. "Well then, I guess I have nothing to lose…" With that, she moved closer, then closer still, until the skirt of her sundress touched his thighs.
Around them, the air thickened. Her scent came to him, light and pretty. Sensuous. Her eyes were huge, and despite her bold move, very un
certain.
A complete opposition to the way her body swayed toward his. She took his hand in her much smaller one and brought it to … her stomach?
Make sure he feels it.
Karrie's words came back to him, and he didn't know whether to laugh or groan. "She was wrong," he whispered, his voice hoarse with the desire he was fighting with his every breath. "It's not the material a man wants to feel."
"No?"
She sounded breathless, too, and in contrast to
his words, his fingers spread wide to touch as much of her as he could, feeling her belly tighten. "No. It's skin I want. Bare skin."
Her mouth formed a perfect little O at that. "I … see."
"Hannah…" She seemed so vulnerable, yet unbearably sexy at the same time, and now that he knew she'd never been with a man, that she was yearning and burning for just that, he could hardly breathe. "What's going on?"
"I thought you already knew."
"I mean other than you're asking your clerk and guests for hints on how to…"
"Seduce you?" She winced. "I asked my brother, too."
"Michael? God.'" He let out a slow breath. "But why?"
"Why am I asking for tips?"
"Why everything. Why me? Why are you a…"
"Virgin." Her eyes went sad. "It's that awful, huh?"
"No.
No,"
he said again, then shoved his fingers in his hair as if that could help him think. "Hannah … why are you doing this?"
To me,
he wanted to add, but better him than some other guy, right? At least
he
could resist her.
Probably.
Okay, maybe he was going to have trouble in that department.
The phone rang, and he'd never been so relieved in his life.
With a small sound of frustration, Hannah backed away and answered it. Then her shoulders sagged almost imperceptibly, and her smile went tight. "Mom? Everything okay?" She listened intently, and while she did, Zach backed up and pretended interest in a selection of T-shirts to give her some privacy.
He wondered if she'd be insulted if he went running.
Probably, he decided.
"What about the money I sent you last week?" he heard her ask. "No, Mom, Michael paid that bill for you already. The other money we sent was for
you."
She sighed, and when Zach risked a peek at her, she was hunched over on a stool behind the counter, rubbing her temples.
Zach remembered Hannah's mom, vaguely, from their school days. A nice, harried woman in perpetual grief, trying to do it all: work full-time, raise two children on her own, and manage all the household chores that came with that responsibility. She'd always seemed … haggard. Worried. He knew Hannah had grown up hovering near the poverty line, and knew for her mother at least, little had changed.
He was also aware of the fact that Hannah completely depended on her income from the Norfolk Inn, every penny, much more than either Tara or Alexi, both of whom could go to their parents for help if they needed to.
The inn was still fairly new, still earning its reputation. There'd been renovations needed, big ones, and the three women had procured a loan to cover the costs.
Zach couldn't imagine the revenues from the place paid enough to easily support Hannah, much less her mother, not yet anyway.
And damn if that didn't twist at the heart he was trying so valiantly to ignore when it came to the elusive Hannah Novak.
"Don't worry about it, okay, Mom?" Her voice was reassuring in a way one would expect a mother to speak to a child, not the other way around. "Michael and I'll send you more. We'll get it all taken care of… Gotta go, I have a customer. Yes, I'll call you more often. I love you, too. Bye."
Slowly she hung up the phone, her gaze focused off in the distance as she did, her mind a million miles away. Probably figuring out how to give more, as if she hadn't been giving all her life.
God, she was beautiful, Zach thought, hauntingly so. But it wasn't that physical beauty drawing him now. It was that spirit and inner strength.
Walk away,
he thought. You're on temporary leave from a demanding job, one that doesn't give you the luxury of letting a woman into your life, even if you wanted, which you don't.
Just walk away.
Instead he moved toward her. "Hey," he said softly. "You okay?"
She jerked, then blinked at him once before pasting another of those fake smiles on her face, the kind he was certain fooled any customer because it was such a pretty, friendly smile.
It didn't fool him because it didn't quite meet her eyes, eyes that were filled with mysteries. He'd always known the warm, cheerful, sweet and engaging Hannah had depths to her, but suddenly he wanted to explore them, every single one. Dammit. "How's your mother?"
"She … misses me." Guilt flashed across her face. "I don't spend enough time with her, and whenever she calls I'm reminded of that—not that she bugs me about it or anything—but I can hear the loneliness in her voice. It kills me." Another sigh broke free from her lips, and with everything inside him he wanted to help.
"I hear the same thing when I call my parents," he admitted quietly. "I don't do it enough because of how it makes me feel when I hear how old they sound."
The smile on Hannah's face faded as she absorbed that. "I know. I hate hearing my mother age."
"I worry that I don't see them enough and someday they won't be around to see at all. And Alexi, too. I go too long without seeing her. I've been gone so much in the past years. They hate that."
He hadn't meant to say so much, had meant only to prove kinship with her, but her eyes were deep and clear, and he felt as if he could see himself mirrored there. Certainly his own feelings were reflected back, which shouldn't have surprised him.
Neither should the fact that at that moment, he felt closer to Hannah than he did to anyone.