he somehow knew she needed the extra push. “We’re in the garden.”
“We being…”
“Me and Nate and the kids. And Ma. Literally all of us. Surprise!”
“Oh,” Hannah said faintly. “Great, that’s… that’s great…” She tapped her palms against her legs. Christ, it was hot. Why had she worn a skirt? Her thighs were chafing. Chafing was not conducive to social perfection. The skirt had definitely been a miscalculation, but—
“Nervous?”
She looked up to find Zach giving her the kind of arch, cocky look that had made him Ravenswood’s most successful man-slut. “No,” she said. It wasn’t a lie; it was positive self-talk. “Stop trying to psych me out.”
“I’m not! I swear. I’ve just never seen you like this before. You’re always so cool. Which I like, by the way.” He flashed one of his trademark, lazy-sexy smiles.
“Not now, Zachary.”
“But later?”
“Put your head in the freezer or something.” She ignored his answering burst of laughter, casting a sharp eye over the hall. There were boxes stacked precariously by the stairs, and the living room she saw through a nearby doorway looked disorganised, to say the least.
But her mind was distracted from its mental tidying as childish shouts danced on the air. The sound filled her chest with a familiar peace, a feeling she’d sorely missed over the years. All at once, her nerves faded like the last bright sparks of a firework, until she was cool and composed, a blank night sky again. There was no need to panic.
Yes, she might be rusty after two years, and yes, Nate triggered some sort of minor nostalgic lust in her, but that didn’t matter. She was here to work, and work was one thing Hannah could do, no matter what. She had skills and experience and qualifications coming out of her ears, and most importantly…
Kids loved her. Kids really, really loved her. They were the only people who did, and that was her superpower. So, she’d re-meet Bethany and Joshua, and they’d have fun playing in the garden, and everything would be fine, and then—then—she’d actually, finally, be working in childcare again. For now.
That was enough to make her heart sing.
She took a deep breath and gave Zach her best smile. “Lead the way.”
5
“When you're fatter than complete strangers with boundary issues prefer, those complete strangers with boundary issues make sure to tell you so. In explicit detail. They do this because they hate happiness.”
- Hannah Kabbah, The Kabbah Code
“Grandma, would you like an apple smoothie?”
“Oh, yes, please!” Nate watched as his mother widened her eyes and licked her lips, holding out one eager hand for a cup of pond scum and mushed-up leaves.
Beth passed it over with a giggle, then turned to Josh and ordered, “Another one! For Uncle Zach!”
Josh nodded so hard, Nate was surprised he didn’t fall over. Smoothie making in the garden was clearly a serious business.
It was nice, having a garden. Very nice. He’d forgotten that part of living in Ravenswood; all the greenery. The kids were having the time of their lives. Maybe they’d forgive him for the move soon.
He raised his camera and lined up a shot of Beth, mud smudged over her snub little nose, kneeling by their shallow pond. She looked up, caught him, and gave a glare more suited to a teenager than a seven-year-old.
“Don’t take pictures of me, Daddy,” she commanded.
He didn’t blame the poor kid. He’d been photographing her nonstop from the minute she was born. “Don’t worry, I won’t. I’m just looking at you.”
She sniffed dubiously. Nate chuckled and turned the camera elsewhere, zooming in on Josh’s chubby fingers snatching at leaves on a rhododendron bush; then on Ma, who was lounging on the quilted garden swing, ‘apple smoothie’ in hand. She winked at him, lifting her plastic cup, and he snapped a picture.
Finally, as if by instinct, he looked toward the patio doors, camera still raised to his face…
And saw Hannah.
He’d been expecting her. Of course he had. But the sight of her still felt like a surprise. Maybe it was because of her smile—the kind of breathtaking, sunshine-bright grin he could never have predicted from a woman so tightly contained. Of course, she was aiming that elusive expression at his little brother, since they were friends. And she was talking to him, too, without any of the self-consciousness she’d shown Nate.
Because she had been self-conscious, during their odd little interview, despite how bold she seemed. He could sense it, somehow, every time she hesitated, every time she bit back words