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‘Oh.’ Great. So not only do I look like I’ve made an excuse to venture in here, I also look like a terrible father. Where the hell is she, the little sod?
And as if by magic, Alex prances into the shop, all smiley. ‘There you are,’ she sings. ‘What have I told you about wandering off?’
I hear Hannah start chuckling, and although the sound is orgasm inducing, I still growl at my wayward daughter. ‘We’ve got to go.’ I pace to her, turning her straight around and directing her out of the shop, letting the door slam behind me.
‘Hey, I need to get the paint for the bridge.’ She struggles in my hold as I march her down the street, but I don’t let her win, pushing her onward, having a mental row with myself.
I could have handled that so much better. And what was with that god-awful atmosphere? I had Hannah in my bed only a few days ago. Said things I’ve never said to anyone in my life. Thought things I didn’t know I would ever think.
‘Fuck it,’ I spit, releasing Alex and turning back toward the shop. ‘Get in the truck,’ I shout over my shoulder, just catching her stunned expression. Good. Let her think I’m mad at her. It’ll keep her away while I say what I’ve got to say to Hannah.
I push my way into the shop and slam the door harder than I mean to. ‘Just for the record, the other night was amazing.’ I point a finger at Hannah, and she recoils, her already stunned face stunned further. ‘I don’t know why you’ve been avoiding me, but I think it fucking sucks.’
‘Are you for real?’ she asks, her delicate jaw ticking wildly. ‘You shoved me out of your cabin so fast, I’m lucky I don’t have fucking bruises!’
My hand drops limply, and I retreat, pointing to the door behind me. ‘Alex,’ is all I manage to splutter, as if that’s a perfectly reasonable explanation. But apparently it’s not, judging by the fire that springs into Hannah’s glare.
‘Oh, I know. She can’t ever see me.’ Turning away, she starts to tidy things up, slamming things here, tossing things there. ‘That’s fine, but you’ll have to find someone else to busy yourself with when your daughter’s not around. I’m checking out.’ She swings around. ‘Now get out.’
Fuck me. She really does turn me on when she’s mad. ‘No,’ I spit back petulantly.
‘Yes!’
‘No!’
‘Fucking yes!’
‘Fucking no!’ I roar, making the shop shake. ‘I didn’t fucking say ever, Hannah. Just not that morning when we were bollock naked and had just orgasmed in my damn shower.’
Her mouth snaps shut and she moves back, breathless from her outburst. ‘What?’
Oh my God, has she completely misread everything? I take my palm to my head and rub, squeezing my eyes closed. Has this just been one huge misunderstanding? ‘Listen,’ I breathe. ‘I know I didn’t handle it particularly well, but amid my panic, I did conclude one thing.’
‘What?’
‘I do want my daughter to meet you, but not like that.’
‘You mean naked?’
‘Yes, that, and still flushed from the amazing sex we just had.’ And the flush appears, her hands joining and fiddling in front of her. ‘Is that why you’ve been avoiding me?’ I ask. ‘You thought I kicked you out because that night didn’t mean anything to me?’ I step forward, frustrated not only with Hannah for even thinking I would do that to her, but with myself for giving her reason to. I’ve been in fucking turmoil the past few days, second-guessing everything, talking myself around in circles.
‘Well, yeah.’ She looks away from me. I don’t like it.
‘Hannah?’
‘But maybe it was for the best, anyway,’ she says, refusing to look at me.
My stomach turns. ‘What?’
She swallows, and something tells me it’s because she’s trying to force words past the lump there. ‘It couldn’t work between us.’ She turns to walk away.
Oh no she fucking doesn’t. I catch her by the wrist, pulling her around and forward, not giving her a moment to protest or fight me. And I show her why her reasons are pathetic, kissing her with all the delicacy she needs, but with all the passion to remind her.
And. It. Is. Fucking. Heaven.
I don’t know what her game is, but I just ended it. ‘It wasn’t for the best,’ I say, nipping the end of her tongue and kissing the edge of her mouth. ‘So don’t you dare say that again.’ Having her in my arms settles the storm inside me. ‘Look at me,’ I demand, and she does. ‘Do you really think it’s not for the best?’ I will not let her lie to me. ‘Or are you telling yourself that?’ She looks so very guilty all of a sudden, telling me all I need to know. ‘No more, okay?’
