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Fifteen minutes later, they were kissing in his office.
It turned out Jarvis owned the bar, which was an added bonus, since he had a very nice office with a delicious leather couch and a large desk. Hannah had a feeling they might make use of both. Right now, he was wrapped around her with his warm, strong hands finding their way up to her bra strap.
Jarvis moved fast, and Hannah let him, trying to enjoy what this hot guy was doing to her and not letting the image of Brody’s face on the TV screen—and the memories of his kiss, and his touch—ruin her fun.
But it was too late.
All she could think of was Brody. What was he doing since he retired? She’d considered contacting him, but it didn’t seem wise.
As Jarvis was trailing his lips lower, her mind wandered.
Maybe Brody would like to see an old friend? Maybe...he could help her out? Be her first real, exciting story for her blog?
Why not? She was trying to write about something exciting—and the most exciting person she’d ever known was only about eight hours away.
Would he see her? Would he talk to her?
What if he said no?
“Hannah?” Jarvis’s sexy voice broke through her thoughts.
He pulled back and looked at her questioningly, aware she had gone elsewhere, at least in her head. She backed away.
“I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have done this. We have to stop.”
“What?” He seemed more disconcerted than angry, but Hannah couldn’t go through with this. “Did I do something—”
“No, I promise, it’s totally me. I’m too distracted. It’s not your fault at all, I just... I have to go.”
Jarvis’s arms loosened and she apologized again, barely taking in his dazed look as she pictured meeting up with Brody. If she could take some pictures of him for her blog, that would put her on the map. He was retired. What was he up to? That was a blog she could write that would get some attention.
If he would agree. And why wouldn’t he? They’d parted on good terms, and they were friends, right? If she wanted to make this work, she had to be bold.
Hannah tugged her clothes straight before she went out into the kitchen and then the bar, convincing herself that this was the right thing to do, and that Brody would want to see her again, as much as she wanted to see him.
* * *
BRODY JERKED AWAKE, suddenly alert as he peered around his room. Sunlight peeked through a crack in the curtains, making him squint as he checked the clock. It was just past nine. He didn’t even recall when he’d gone to bed, though it had been late. The days all seemed to slide by recently, one blurring into the other. He peered at the half-empty bottle of Scotch on the dresser, and the glass by his bed.
That reminded him that his shoulder had been hurting like hell last night, and the alcohol was better than the pain pills the doctor prescribed. Well, somewhat anyway.
His shoulder was dislocated and sprained when his horse had thrown him. Luckily, nothing was broken.
Some luck.
If he’d been driving his stock car instead of riding Zip—the Thoroughbred colt he’d adopted from a rescue organization—none of this would have happened.
Racing might be dangerous, but the “quiet” life might kill him yet. Brody wasn’t built for quiet.
At least he was getting back to where he could do some light work with the horses and drive. For several weeks after he’d been thrown, he thought he would go out of his mind with boredom. He was counting the days until his mandatory “retirement” was over; it couldn’t happen soon enough.
Then he realized what had awakened him as the aroma of coffee drifted through the open door.
Someone was downstairs.
Was he with a woman last night? He didn’t think he’d had so much to drink that he wouldn’t remember. Though his sponsor had told him to behave, Brody wasn’t much good at that, either. There had been a few women since he’d left the track. He had to have something to do.
He’d had contractors in for several months, renovating the old farm house from top to bottom, and he’d adopted some new horses, but apart from all that, sex was at least a temporary reprieve. Though, since that news item appeared saying he was looking to settle down he couldn’t bring a girl home without her wanting to stay for good.
