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"Where is he?" Elliott asked, grabbing a pen and random piece of paper off the desk.
"Here. He lives here. Just way on the outskirts. Hold on, I'll get an address."
He felt oddly energized driving down the long dirt road that Emily swore would eventually lead to this Sam Flynn's farm.You'll know it when you see it.He wasn't entirely sure what that was supposed to mean. He imagined she meant it was impressive.
Despite his efforts not to, he found himself wondering why Hannah would run to this Sam person. Emily had said they had barely been in contact in years. But she had also said they had been together since they were twelve or thirteen or something like that. And they broke up when Hannah went away to college. Sam's roots were buried deep and Hannah needed to spread her wings. It sounded like that was the only reason for the dissolution of their relationship. Five or six years was a long time to spend with someone.
And if she was running back to him, there was no way he was going to win her back with the idea of being his mistress. He couldn't compete.
Elliott cursed, grabbing the steering wheel and forcing himself to not go there. There was some other reason Hannah went back to him, especially without telling her parents or her best friend. He was going to find out what it was, fix it, and bring her back with him.
Emily had been right. He knew it the moment it came into view, the impressive colonial on an enormous plot of land. Everything was new, expensive. Apparently Sam Flynn was doing well for himself. Which was not an easy feat in a small town.
He cut off the engine, walked up the path, and hit the door knocker five times before his nerves got the better of him. He stood there a long, dragging minute before the door finally opened. He had, irrationally, imagined Hannah answering the door, surprised but somehow happy to see him though she would never admit it. But this was Sam Flynn.
All disheveled dark blond or light brown hair and warm brown eyes. He wore a black and red flannel shirt completely unbuttoned with a white t-shirt underneath and faded blue jeans. As soon as the door was open, a huge, ironic smile spread across the man's face followed by a throaty chuckle. "Of course," he said, shaking his head and then stepped aside, waving him in.
Elliott raised a brow but followed the man inside, through his well decorated house toward the back which opened to a large kitchen. Sam still hadn't said anything else, but he grabbed two coffee cups out of the cabinet, filled one and handed it to him all the while with a smile pulling at his lips.
"Hold on, one minute," Sam said, practically bouncing off to the foyer where he stood at the base of the steps and called upward, his voice playful and teasing, the kind of tone you used with someone you grew up with. "Oh, Hannaaaah," he called and promptly ignored whatever her muffled voice said from upstairs, "can you come to the kitchen for a minute?" he asked, walking back and leaning against the refrigerator.
Elliott could hear footsteps above, a slamming sound and a curse, and then her steps on the stairs. His heart was beating a foolishly fast pace. What was he so nervous about? Maybe it was just relief. A bone deep relief that he had indeed found her and that she was okay. And, he admitted reluctantly, that it didn't seem like anything was going on between her and this Sam guy.
Hannah walked into the doorway, barefoot in slim fit blue jeans and a tight white t-shirt. Her long, shiny black hair was loose, falling down toward her waist. Her face was bare, he noticed, realizing he hadn't ever really seen her completely makeup free. She always had a little something- mascara or lipstick, something. She looked younger, her gray eyes brighter.
"What's so impo..." she trailed off, her eyes widening comically and her mouth falling open.
A few beats passed before he found his voice. "Hannah," he said, her name at once sounding like relief and accusation.
From the end of the room, Sam laughed and Elliott could see his obviously easy smile spread across his face again. "Alright. Well then," Sam's voice broke the awkward silence, sounding amused. "I am going to go... anywhere but here," he said and disappeared to some unknown room in the house. Though he was definitely still in the house Elliott knew... a protective older brother type for sure.
"What are you doing here?" Hannah's voice accused, sounding confused but angry.
"That's a great question. I could ask you the same thing," he said, sipping his coffee and grabbing the extra cup Sam had poured and holding it out to her.
She looked down at it like she didn't recognize what it was for a moment, before taking it and holding it between her two hands in front of her chest. A barrier. Closed-off Hannah. "No, you really can't ask the same thing. This is my hometown. This is my friend's house. It's not weird that I am here. It is, however, extremely strange for you to be here."
Elliott almost smiled. His haughty, defensive Hannah. "No one knew where you were Hannah. Tad was clueless. Your neighbor had some story about you leaving very early and looking worried. You didn't answer your phone..."
"It's dead," she said, sounding ticked.
"So, charge it," he cut back, his voice sounding like a teacher chastising a student. "I was concerned. So I came to Stars Landing. And some random lady on the street who I have never seen before told me where your parents lived..."
"Maude Mays," Hannah supplied, automatically. "She's...ah... the town psychic," she admitted, sounding sheepish.
Elliott smiled a little. That did... and didn't... explain what happened. "Anyway I went there..."
"You went to see my parents," her voice shot out, sounding angry, but more worried than anything else.
"And they hadn't heard from you either. So, I went back to the inn..."
"The inn," Hannah asked, her eyes widening again. He could just see the thoughts swirling around in her mind. He could practically read the name "Emily" cross her face.
"And got accosted by the girl there," he said, a slight smile tugging at his lip.
"Emily," Hannah supplied.
"Right. Emily. She's a real piece of work," he mused. "And she had just heard from your parents who couldn't get in touch with you either. And Emily tried calling you as well. So then she realized you would probably end up here so she gave me the address."
