Hold Me Close - Talia Hibbert Page 0,160

been lost without you.”

“Ah, don’t sell yourself short. You’d get there eventually.”

She smirked. Everything about her was relaxing inch by inch, and that sharp little smile grew wider. He was really, really glad he’d pushed. Needling her produced excellent results. He’d have to bear that in mind.

Bear that in mind for what? Your longstanding professional relationship?

For a moment, Nate came to his senses and asked himself what the hell he was doing, trying to make Hannah Kabbah smile. Then she spoke again, and his brain put up a Do Not Disturb sign and went off for a nap.

“You don’t still smoke, do you?” she asked.

“Nah. Ellie hated it. My wife, I mean.”

She wouldn’t ask about Ellie. No-one in Ravenswood asked about Ellie. He’d be relieved about that fact, if it didn’t make him wonder what they thought they knew.

It wasn’t like his wife’s death was some big secret: it had been nothing more scandalous than a car accident. The problem was that, his whole life, he’d felt this gut-wrenching disgust at the thought of anyone thinking they knew him. The thought of people watching him, discussing him, making assumptions about him—he felt it like spiders’ legs creeping over his face in the dark. It was why he’d left this town in the first place.

But he didn’t feel it now. Not exactly. Because even though Hannah didn’t ask about Ellie, she sort of leaned in as if to say…

As if to say that he should keep going?

So, after a moment’s hesitation, Nate went on. “The first time I asked her out—it wasn’t long after I left Ravenswood. I was sixteen, maybe seventeen, and I still thought I was hot shit. But I asked her out, and she turned me down because she didn’t do smokers.” Usually, the memory made him grin. Right now, though… well, he was already grinning. Wider than he had in a while, actually. And it felt good.

Hannah was smiling back, too. “Is that why you quit?”

“Yeah,” he laughed. “That’s why.”

“And then you asked her out again?”

“Yep.” He ran a hand through his hair, suddenly embarrassed.

She let out this little puff of air that might’ve been a highly buttoned-up laugh, and said, “Good gracious me. That’s almost romantic. I’m shocked.”

Nate could feel his cheeks burning even as he rolled his eyes. “I wouldn’t call it romantic.”

“You gave up an addiction to get the girl. They write books about men like you.” She spoke sagely as a grandmother, her eyes dancing. She didn’t seem sad anymore. Which was why he didn’t mind, this time, when she edged toward the door and said, “Well. As illuminating as this conversation has been, I should really get going.”

“Oh, right.” He unlocked the door and held it open for her, and she nodded regally as she passed—but then, just before she stepped over the threshold, she paused.

And then she reach out and touched him. Actually touched him. She put her hand on his forearm, and looked up into his eyes, and said, “I’m quite fond of your mother, you know. I’m… I’m glad that I can do something to help.”

He swallowed and nodded slowly.

She gave him a smile so impish, he almost forgot the dread lying heavy in his gut. “Also, I will be unpacking all these bloody boxes you’ve got lying around. I absolutely cannot cope with clutter.”

With that, she sailed out of the house and down the garden path. He stood in the doorway for far too long—not watching her leave, but staring down at his own arm. At the place where she’d touched him.

The earth hadn’t moved, when her skin had brushed his. The stars hadn’t aligned, and his heart hadn’t pounded its way right out of his chest.

It only felt that way.

6

Zach: Told you I was right about Hannah.

Nate: Whatever. You do realise, now that she watches the kids, she’s off-limits?

Zach: Those are your kids, man. Not mine.

A few days later, Hannah sat on her neat little bed in her neat little room and took a deep, lemon-scented breath. She may have gone overboard, after moving in, when she’d mopped the floors. And scrubbed the skirting boards. And wiped the drawers inside and out. Cleaning helped her feel settled. But the window was open, letting the night air in and the potentially dangerous chemical fumes out, so, God willing, she would not accidentally kill herself via Domestos tonight.

She might just die of satisfaction, though. Hannah smiled to herself as she cast a pleased look over her books and laptop