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His eyes were squeezing hers again, but this time the warmth lit up gold embers that flared from the brown. “I told you,” he nodded smugly. “I know someone with heart. It takes a lot of heart to walk away. To refuse to let anyone drag you down. Even loved ones.Especially family. I had to do the same with my aunts. I still visit every three or four months and send them bill money. They won’t take anything more than that. But when they need more, I’ll be ready. I already have a stash saved up for them.”
“I’m working on the same. My mom has a fixed income that covers her bills. But I’m hoping to send money home more frequently.”
“Is that why you got into massage therapy?”
“Yes. I started when my dad was sick. He was in a lot of pain, and sometimes a massage helped. It helped Lorraine’s stress, too. I knew I needed to learn a skill. I couldn’t afford college, and I needed a certificate or training I could earn quickly.”
“You never thought about anything else?”
“There was one other thing, but it was too crazy, and there’s not much money in it. Just helping people. I wanted to be a doula.”
Hannibal cocked his head like a curious German shepherd searching for answers about his human’s actions. “A doula, she’s someone who helps women before, during, and after birth.”
“Oh, a midwife.”
“Not quite,” she smiled, “but similar. Anyway, when I first moved here, Lorraine was pregnant with twins, and I helped her deliver. It was amazing. To witness a woman bringing life into the world—it’s unbelievable. It blew me away, and I wanted to help other women as well. A lot of doulas work as volunteers or for very low money. It truly is something you do because you love it. You don’t get rich..” Her lip kicked up, and she laughed at herself. “Okay, you don’t get rich doing massages either, but you can at least pay your bills.”
“I’m glad you have something you enjoy other than massages. I don’t like the thought of my woman rubbing other men down. Working with women, helping them through birth, I can appreciate that.”
“I’m not your woman.” His eyes squeezed hers again. A sticky venus flytrap sucking her in and not letting her go.
“Aren’t you?”
“No,” she shook her head, but a rumble echoed through her body like a tree falling in the distance. Protesting. “Look, I don’t even know you. You seem like a nice enough guy, but…”
“I think youdoknow me. I think you saw me like I saw you. Something drew us here together. I don’t believe in coincidences. On the road, you can take a lot of different paths to get to the same destination. And here we are. Both of us in the shop at the moment we both needed to be.”
“I’m sorry. I don’t believe in fairy tales, fate, or happily ever after. Most of the time, instalove is really instalust…”
“What’s wrong with instalust? When a fire sweeps through your body, and you see someone that you have to have.”
“It doesn’t last. And then when the fire’s over, you’re left with the scars.”
“Do I look like a man who’s afraid of scars?”
She shook her head again. Was she protesting him, or her own fired-up libido?
He held out his hand. “Come here, Angel. My angel. Take a chance, and dance near the fire. Hell, run naked through it. Let it consume you. I’ll be there right there with you. Making sure the heat doesn’t…”
“Doesn’t scar me?”
“Can’t promise that, Angel. Hearts have scars. You can’t fall without getting a bump or two. That’s part of riding a bike or living a life. I can promise to shield you as best I can. I’ll do everything in my power to protect you from getting hurt when you fall. Because I’m that guy. For you, I’m that guy. The one in a million that you don’t believe in. That story of the couple where the man takes one look at her, and he realized that she’s it for him, for the rest of his life.”
“And what about her? Does she know the minute she sees him?”
“Maybe, maybe not. But either way, she takes a chance, and she never regrets it. He neverletsher regret it.” He waved his hand out again, wagging the palm up and down, waiting for her to take it. “C’mon, my angel. Take a chance.”
“What do you want from me?”
“A sip, a taste. If it turns out I’m wrong, then I’ll leave quietly. But if we combust, then we’ll let the fire take its course, burn its way, until it burns us out.”
“One taste?” She licked her lips. Her mouth watered as if she already had his heady flavor. Shehadwanted him the moment she saw him. Why else was he in her apartment? He was twice her size and involved in shady activities if his evasions told her anything. But when was the last time she’d yearned for a man?Had she ever?If he left before she had a taste, would she ever forgive herself? She escaped home because she was tired of being afraid. Fear had ruled her life for twenty-two years. Bringing her nothing—good or bad. Absolutely nothing. What would bravery bring?
Her fingers tapped the inside of his huge hand, and like a spring-loaded trap, his fingers snapped around hers. Instantly tugging her closer.
“Thank God,” he muttered before his lips slammed down on hers.
Chapter 5
