She beamed. “You know how you said you didn’t have any roots and that you thought this was a place you could grow some?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, I think you just broke ground tonight.”
She was visibly more relaxed than a few seconds ago, and I hoped it wasn’t the kiss that had shaken her up instead of my temper. That wasn’t how I wanted people to think I was.
Fuck that. It wasn’t how I wanted her to think I was.
“Well, I like the way your mind works, but I don’t want you to assume I act like that normally.”
“Vaughn, seriously. That was nothing. I saw Snapper Jones pull a gun on a guy in there before over a game of cards. That one punch just said, hey, Wynne, I’m here. And I’m not taking your shit. How’s your hand?”
She pulled my right hand from the wheel to examine it under the dome light she’d clicked on.
“It’s fine, just looks messy.”
She looked up at me through her thick lashes and said, “Maybe we should go to your place?”
God, that sounded like a good idea. She looked so damn good sitting there in my passenger seat.
To hell with it.
“Are you sure?” Things wouldn’t get out of hand. I wouldn’t let them—if it was within my power, which I wasn’t so sure about. My fear was I wouldn’t have much control when push actually came to shove.
We pulled into my drive and I turned off the lights. I decided to leave my keys in the ignition, knowing I’d be taking her home in a while.
Hannah opened her door and walked to the deck, then waited for me.
She was stunning in the moonlight, her hair moving with the breeze. Her lips still a little red from our kiss in the alley.
One part of my brain told me that this was all new, and to take my time. I’d only lived in Wynne for a few weeks. It was a little soon to be jumping into a serious relationship with someone new, especially after Rachelle.
The other part of my brain was screaming, this feels so right! She was so unlike anyone I knew. We never ran out of things to talk about.
She was actually interested in me. Me.
Not how much money I made.
Not my practice.
Not who I knew at the golf club.
And, although I was still learning about her, I doubted she’d ever be one to concern herself with petty things like that.
Hannah O’Fallon had her own things, and she didn’t need mine. She made her own way.
The Hannah way.
For the record, Hannah fit her perfectly. Judging by the way she looked at me when I said it, she liked hearing it just as much as I liked saying it.
“Coffee?” she asked, taking the hand I offered her. I’d never really been a hand holding kind of guy; hers just fit so nicely in mine. As tough as she tried to be, her hands were the exact opposite of that day-to-day tough exterior. Her fingers were long and thin, her palms soft and warm. Her nails were bare, trim, and glossy.
“Do you want me to make you some?”
“It kind of sounds good.”
I’d be up all night if I drank coffee at midnight. The thought that she wanted me up all night caused a twitch in my jeans. Maybe I was reading more into it than I should have, but coffee or not, what I wanted to do to her would take hours and no doubt the sun would be coming up long before I was finished.
But not that night.
I’d slept with Rachelle on our first date. We’d been around each other, running in the same circle, but it was our first night out alone. When she invited me up, I didn’t really think things were going to progress like they did. Honestly, I thought we would casually date for a while. Maybe.
That whole relationship was doomed from the beginning.
I didn’t want that to happen with this one.
It wasn’t about being sad or missing Rachelle. It was more about feeling like every year I spent looking and waiting for the right one to come along, was inevitably one year without what I wanted.
A real home. Roots. A family to call my own.
Yet, all of that was way too soon to think about. It was too soon to let myself think about making a life with this crazy, beautiful, complicated woman.
It was too soon to admit I hoped she liked me back.
Too soon to want to skip the fucking coffee and lead her to my bedroom. To strip her naked. To lay her on my bed. To kiss every inch of her until she was pink and flushed.
Too soon to show her how I felt.
But it wasn’t too soon to excuse myself to the bathroom to catch my breath and get some clarity. I was really fucking aroused by all of those thoughts.
She walked straight to the coffee maker and since she knew where all of my kitchen things were, she easily found the coffee packs and started a cup.
“I’ll be right back,” I said and excused myself.
Was she sending me signals, or did I just want signals? It was possible she wanted the same thing I did, or maybe I just liked everything about her and I got to see a lot more of her tonight. She’d opened up more to me than before.