It is astounding that someone as handsome—well, as sexy—as Hardin would be as affected by me as he is. I know I’m considered attractive, but I am nothing like the girls he usually messes with. I have no tattoos, no piercings, and I dress conservatively.
I put the dress on and turn away from him, exposing my back to him, waiting for him to zip it up. I lift my hair up and hold it above my head. His finger grazes along my spine, skipping over my bra strap before he zips the dress. I shiver and lean back against him. I purposely push my behind against him and hear him suck in a breath. His hands move down to my hips and he squeezes gently. I feel him hardening against me, sending electricity through me for what feels like the hundredth time today.
“Hardin?” Karen’s voice calls from the hall as a delicate tapping hits the door, and I become extremely thankful we’re both dressed.
Hardin rolls his eyes and brings his lips to my ear. “Later,” he promises and walks to the door. He switches on the light before opening it, revealing Karen.
“I am so sorry for intruding, but I made some desserts as well, and thought maybe you two would like some?” she offers sweetly. Hardin doesn’t answer her but he looks back at me, waiting for my reply.
“Yes, that would be lovely,” I say with a smile and she grins back.
“Great! I will see you downstairs,” she tells us and turns to walk away.
“I’ve already had my dessert,” Hardin says mischievously, and I swat his arm.
chapter forty-nine
Karen has made lots of sweets for us to eat. I eat a few while she and I discuss her love for baking. Landon doesn’t join us in the dining room but it doesn’t seem to cause any suspicion. I look over to where he just sits on the couch with his book on his lap and remind myself that I need to make sure I talk to him soon. I don’t want to lose his friendship.
“I love baking as well, I am just no good at it,” I tell Karen, and she laughs.
“I would love to teach you,” she says. Hope is evident in her brown eyes and I nod.
“That would be great.” I don’t have the heart to say no. I feel for her; she is really trying to make an effort to get to know me. She believes me to be Hardin’s girlfriend and I can’t tell her otherwise. Hardin has made no move to tell her or his father, either, which gives me a swell of hope. I wish this night was how my life could always be, enjoying spending time with Hardin, his eyes constantly meeting mine as I converse with his father and future stepmother. He is being nice, for the last hour at least, and his thumb rubs over my knuckles in a gentle gesture that gives me a constant string of butterflies. The rain continues to pour outside and the wind howls.
After we finish the desserts, Hardin gets up from the table. I look at him questionably and he leans down to whisper in my ear.
“Be right back, just going to the loo,” he says, and I watch him disappear down the hall.
“We both cannot thank you enough. It is so wonderful having Hardin here, even if it’s only one dinner,” Karen says and Ken takes her hand above the table.
“She’s right. It is wonderful, as his father, to see my only son in love. I had always worried he wouldn’t be capable . . . he was an . . . angry child,” Ken mutters and looks at me. He must notice how I shift uncomfortably in my seat, because he follows up with “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to make you uncomfortable, we just love to see him happy.”
Happy? Love? I choke on my breath and break into a heap of coughs; the cool water in my glass slides down my throat, calming it, and I look back at them. They think Hardin is in love with me? It would be incredibly rude to laugh at them, but he obviously doesn’t know his son.
Before I can respond, Hardin returns and I thank the heavens that I didn’t have to respond to their sweet, but false, assumptions. Hardin doesn’t sit down, but rather stands behind me with his hands on the back of the chair.