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“Maybe I’ll never be ready,” she muttered.
“Hmm. I think you will. But if you’re not, as I’ve said before, we can come up with something else.”
“Or perhaps I won’t need to be punished at all. Because I’m a good girl.”
She froze and waited for that sick feeling to hit. For the panic. But it didn’t come. Maybe because she’d said the words herself? Or perhaps it was like he’d said and she was taking those words back from that asshole.
“You are a good girl. My good girl.”
Her breathing grew harsher, but she worked on keeping herself calm as her hands clenched into fists.
“I think I’m going to be sick.”
“You’re not,” he told her. “You’re not going to be sick.” He drew down a gravel driveway and then parked just below a hill.
Getting out, he ran around his truck, opening her door. Then he unbuckled her seatbelt, lifting her down.
“You are not going to be sick. Look at me. At me, Hannah.”
She’d heard him sound stern, sound firm.
She’d never quite heard this tone before.
“At. Me. Hannah.”
Her gaze went up to his. His gaze was fierce, encompassing, and there was no looking away.
“You’re my good girl.”
She shook her head, and he cupped her face with his hands.
“My. Good. Girl.”
“Raid,” she whispered. She couldn’t do this, and she couldn’t believe he was pushing her.
What happened to going slow?
“Whose good girl are you, Hannah?” he asked in a low voice.
“You said you’d go slow!”
“There’s a time to back off, baby. And there’s a time to give a push. Whose good girl are you?”
“Yours!” she cried.
He drew her against him, holding her tight as she shook. “That’s right. Mine. My good girl. My Hannah. Not his. You’re not his. Understand?”
She sagged against him, feeling exhausted. And the night had only just begun. Her head was thumping. It felt like she’d been through a detox. And she just wanted to sleep.
Actually, she figured that was a good way of thinking about it. That she was detoxing Steven from her body, her head, her life.
“My poor baby. I didn’t intend to do that tonight, but it needed to be done.”
He kissed the top of her head. She let the feel of him surround her. That sense of safety chased away the lingering sense of illness and self-loathing.
“You’re exhausted, aren’t you? Do you want me to take you home?”
She stiffened and tried to pull back, away from him. “No! Please.”
“I don’t want you to push yourself too far.” He stared down at her in concern.
“I know my limits.”
He raised his eyebrows. “I’m not so sure about that. But we need to talk about those limits. And rules. Including the one about not lying to me.”
Uh-oh.
“Do we have to talk about that now?”
“No. I think we’ve had enough serious stuff for tonight. Although, you’re still in trouble for lying before. That’s going on the tally.”
“Rats.”
“Rats?” His lips twitched. “Fuck, you’re adorable.” He lifted her into his arms and started walking up the hill.
“Raid! Let me down!”
“Why?”
“Why? Because I’m too heavy to carry around like this. What if you hurt yourself? Or trip and fall?”
“I’m not going to hurt myself. And I’m definitely not going to trip and fall while I’m carrying precious cargo.”
Oh, dear Lord.
He just kept getting sweeter and sweeter.
“How did you know I was lying earlier?”
“You bit your lip.”
“Rats.”
His chest moved as they reached the top of the incline. Then she gasped as she saw what lay on the other side. There was a small stream working its way through the land. Lush trees and rolling hills lay beyond the stream.
But it wasn’t any of that which had captured her attention, what had her mouth dropping open as awe filled her.
It was the fairy lights draped around a large tree that went across to another big tree. Both of them framed a small table set with a white tablecloth and brushed brass tableware. There were white napkins and white chairs. And in the middle of the table was a vase filled with white peonies.
“I love white peonies.”
“I know,” he said.
“How?” she asked, turning her head toward him.
“I was in the clinic once when you got a delivery of white peonies for your birthday. You told me they were your favorite.”
“I did?” she asked, not remembering that. Which was nuts when she usually remembered every encounter with him. “And you remembered after all this time?”
“Yeah. I did. Come on, dinner will be getting cold.” He set her down, then took her hand and led her down to the table. There was another table set off to the side, with several covered trays.
“Did you do all this?” she asked.
Hannah couldn’t understand any of it. This was like a scene from a movie. She’d never expected this.
“I had some help,” he admitted. “Mia did the cooking, and I think Lara sort of helped. While Clem and Scarlett helped me decorate. Flick just moaned about the fact that West was being an overprotective ass who won’t even let her pee on her own.”
