Page 50 of Rogue Wave

Hank noticed and walked into my space, curling one arm around my back and pulling me closer.

I loved the feel of his warm body heat against me as his rich, woodsy smell surrounded me.

He moved his other hand to the side of my face, stroking his thumb lightly against my cheek.

“You okay?” His question was quiet but full of concern and affection.

God, this man had such a sweet side when he wasn’t too stubborn to show it.

I didn’t dare nod because I feared he’d move his hand from my face, and I wanted it to stay there.

“Yeah,” I replied softly. “Just a little stressed.”

He leaned down and kissed me softly, and I swore my body felt like it was floating.

The stress of my day—gone. The worries I had—forgotten.

Everything just seemed to settle in me with his lips on mine.

He pulled back sooner than I would have liked, but he stayed close enough for me to feel his breath on mine as he spoke. “Feel better?”

“Yeah, that umm…definitely helped with my stress level,” I told him and watched the smallest of smiles creep across his face.

This man was so good-looking, and I wanted him badly. Luckily for me, I wasn’t a shy person.

“I could probably use another one just to hold me over for the rest of the day.”

He gave me that smile back before pressing his lips against mine once more. It wasn’t hard or needy or fast. It was soft. Patient. Like he was taking his time and enjoying the feel of my lips on his, and I loved it.

When he finally broke away, I felt bereft and empty inside.

“Maybe you can check and see if I’m stressed again tonight when we have dinner?” I asked, not caring one bit if I was coming across as needy or desperate.

The corner of his mouth ticked upward, but there was a softness in his eyes that told me he liked me even though he found me odd at times.

“Yeah, sweetheart, I can do that.”

Sigh.

He was a great kisser and he called me sweetheart?

Now that I was seeing the softer side of Hank, I realized I was in trouble.

Big trouble.

Not just because I knew Mom and Auntie had probably seen the whole thing through the window and were going to give me the third degree when I got back inside. It was also because I knew that if I truly let this man inside me—both literally and figuratively—there was no way I’d ever come back from it.

He would own every single part of me, and oddly, that didn’t seem to frighten me one bit.

14

“Every ‘C’ in Pacific Ocean is said differently.”

—It’s science

Hazel

I may have gone a little overboard in how I dressed for dinner tonight.