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“You need help?” Gabe asked, keeping stride behind them.
“Nope, I’ve got this,” Hannah said.
She walked her father out to her car, buckled him into the passenger seat.
“Good girl, Banana,” Si mumbled, his eyes closed and his head leaning against the seat. Her heart lurched at the childhood nickname only her father used. Hannah Banana. “Love my little girl,” he slurred. And Hannah didn’t know if he was admitting to loving her or the little girl she’d once been. Either way, he mumbled things all the time when he was drunk. It was up to Hannah not to take anything to heart.
But that was the one part of her body that was aching.
Her heart.
Love you, Daddy.
She shook her head wildly, hating her brain for letting that thought sneak in. It hurt too badly to love a man like him.
She slammed the car door, walked around, and got in, making the quick drive to her father’s trailer.
She almost forgot she had an entirely different man to deal with once she actually got to her own home.
Hannah stared down her front door and willed the night air to cool her skin. And her mind. Because both were racing hot, from a shitty night dropping her drooling and passed-out father off, to now having to deal with Grant Laythem on the other side of this damn door.
Was the universe trying to kick her ass with annoying males lately?
She’d specifically stopped her mind from taking a stroll down memory lane today. After Grant had come in, it had been difficult to think of anything but him. Yet she’d held strong. Refused to reminisce. Because the minute she did, she just might remember how good he felt against her.
“Snap the eff out of this,” she muttered to herself. Twisting her neck from side to side, that throb always present, she blew out a heavy breath and tried not to replay one of the only things she’d been thinking about since seeing Grant today. Which was how hot he was and how hard up she was.
Grant had walked into her life looking polished, cool, and collected in his perfectly fitted blue suit, complete with a white button-down with the collar undone. She’d looked at the tan skin of his chest. Wondered if he still tasted salty, like the sea air, or maybe more like caramel.
She didn’t know what he did for work, but she knew he was successful. She thought he’d mentioned some kind of business once. And she knew he was from New York. So he clearly had a posh life to some extent. Even the words he spoke dripped with poise and class. Even when he was being a brat or challenging her.
Yep, her ex was confident, and different from her in every way. He was also sexy as sin.
Scratch that.
He wasn’t her ex.
He was her husband.
Her current husband.
Which she’d be taking care of really soon. Because despite her insane attraction to him, they could never work. Not long term. They were different, with different lives on different ends of the country.
She needed to focus on getting through the next couple of weeks, and that was it. In two weeks, everything could go back to normal. If she could just stop thinking about him. He was in her home, a single door separating them, and she knew it.
The lights were on in her small house, and it looked full and bright. Like his presence, even with her standing on the outside, was engulfing.
Out of sight, out of mind had worked for her the past six months. How bad could two weeks be with him hanging around just a bit? She’d walk in, ignore him, and go straight to bed. He was a dude, so he was likely passed out on the couch with Dorito stains on his shirt and SportsCenter on the TV.
Yep, just sneak by, and she wouldn’t even have to acknowledge he was there. Good plan.
She opened the front door, set her purse down on the table, and kicked the door shut.
She got her coat off and heard a small clatter . . .
She looked up and saw Grant.
Shirtless.
