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I nod, relaxing a little. Might as well set the bar on my baseball knowledge as low as possible. “That’s right.”
“I can safely assume you’re not a San Francisco fan, then?” There’s a new gleam in his eyes, what looks a little like amusement.
“Up until right now, I had no idea San Francisco had a baseball team, sir.”
Shockingly, he cracks a smile before reaching into the canvas tote bag he’s carrying and handing me a baseball glove. “In case anyone hits up here.”
I take the glove, running a finger over the smooth, oiled leather. “Thank you, sir.”
“Dean is fine, Oliver.”
Then he walks away, leaving me with the sinking suspicion Hannah’s father might actually approve of me.
* * *
After the game, Hannah and I get dropped off first. I changed my flight after breakfast, so I’m departing LA at five thirty. With the time difference, I won’t be back in New York until after two a.m. But it was worth it, I decide, as I say goodbye to Hannah’s family and the black SUV pulls away from the curb.
As we walk up toward her porch, Hannah hides a yawn. My baseball knowledge hasn’t expanded very much from what I knew before the game—the team with the most runs wins and three strikes before you’re out—but Dean did his best to explain it to me. As far as fathers-in-law go, I could have done a lot worse. I met Dean yesterday, and have had more civil, non-work-related conversations with him in these two days than I have with my father in years.
But from a broad perspective, I think it’s fair to say this weekend was a total failure. I don’t think I’m unlikeable, but I wasn’t expecting to be embraced by Hannah’s family the way I was. Based on how silent she’s been this afternoon, I don’t think she expected it either. Our marriage feels more real than ever, instead of an arbitrary, alcohol-influenced decision.
I set out my suitcase in the entryway before we left for the game, expecting it to be a tight turnaround to get to the airport following the game. I left my phone charging on top of my bag, since I forgot to plug it in overnight the way I ordinarily do. Not having it with me was nice, actually. Icouldn’tcheck emails or answer calls.
“The car should be here in a few minutes,” I say, breaking the silence hovering between us. Hannah nods. I already told her I ordered one.
I kneel down and unzip my suitcase so I can add the baseball glove her dad insisted I keep. When I straighten, Hannah is staring at the luggage.
Her attention snaps to me with a jerk of her head, and then she’s walking toward me, closer and closer until I realize she’s planning to hug me.
I wrap my arms around her waist, tugging her closer. She smells like grapefruit and salt, a scent I recognize from the perfume bottle in her medicine cabinet. I snooped while looking for more hand soap in the bathroom. Her hair is tied back in a ponytail with a pink-patterned scarf, and the soft silk grazes my neck as we stand like that.
There’s no compulsion to pull away, even long after the appropriate length of time for a hug to last has passed. Her body is warm and pliant against mine, and all I can think about is how easy it would be to pull her dress up.
My hand drifts higher and higher, until I reach the exposed skin of her upper back. We’re close enough I can hear the change in her breathing, the way that deep and even quickens.
Her head turns so her lips are against my neck. And then with a deliberate, measured swipe, her tongue traces a small circle right next to my Adam’s apple.
Fuck it, I decide. We already had sex once.
I pull back just far enough to kiss her, groaning when she responds immediately. Moving into me like she was waiting for this.Hopingfor it.
I start gathering the skirt of her dress in my hands, tugging the fabric up, and she steps away, breaking all contact.
I drop my hands immediately, swallowing my disappointment, even though I know it’s for the best. I’m not thinking rationally, so it’s good to know she is.
Except her hands are suddenly on my belt buckle, her fingers unzipping my fly and tracing my growing erection through the fabric. And I realize sheisn’tacting as a voice of reason.
My boxer briefs get tugged down and then her fingers close around me. Hannah watches her hand stroke over the tip of my dick, and I watch her. Register the way her lips curve and her blue eyes heat with desire as my cock swells under her touch.
I’ve been battling an erection around her all day. It’s a sweet relief to succumb to the lust, to let it build in the base of my spine.
My head hits the wall with a softthud, an involuntary groan spilling out when her hand moves lower, gently squeezing my balls before she strokes my taint. My dick jumps, a powerful burst of need rushing through me as she grips me again, pumping and gripping and teasing.
I grunt, thrusting in her hand as my release rises. My gaze falls to her hand, the sight of her jerking me off just as arousing as the sensation.
My phone rings, sharp and insistent, from its spot on my suitcase. Without looking over, I know it’s my driver.
Hannah stills, her grip tight but unmoving. “You have to go.”
