says.”
Something about those words pricked Nate’s attention even more than a monster-dog-owning pirate. “A message?”
Hannah focused her attention on her food and said demurely, “We swapped numbers.”
His eyebrows flew so far up his head, they might have disappeared into his hairline. “You did?”
“We did.”
“Why?”
She pursed her lips and blatantly avoided meeting his eyes. “The usual reasons. Long-distance communication, etcetera.”
“They are going to be ladies who eat Lunchables,” Beth said seriously. “I also eat Lunchables, but I am not a lady yet.”
Hannah finally looked up, but not at him. She gave Beth a fond smile and said, “Lunch, poppet. We’re having lunch.”
At which point Nate realised that the sharp, suspicious feeling tightening his chest was jealousy.
He stuffed a forkful of pasta in his mouth and decided not to think about it.
Only he couldn’t stop.
18
Ruth: Can you put silk in the washing machine?
Hannah: Depends. Why?
Ruth: Evan got me new pyjamas.
Nate knew he was being ridiculous. Not because he suspected that Hannah had a date, but because he was not happy about it.
He’d been 99.9% sure that she liked women, because she had a habit of checking them out rather obviously in public. She seemed to think no-one would notice. It was quite high up on the list of adorable things about her.
He was also 99.9% sure that Hannah hated making friends. She only seemed to have a few, and one of those was her sister—so she probably hadn’t randomly picked up a new one at the park. Of course, that logic also suggested that she wouldn’t randomly pick up a date at the park. But he knew from experience that she could be very direct when she wanted to sleep with someone.
Which brought him right back to his completely unreasonable jealousy. Dinner was over, the kids were in bed, and Nate was loitering in the living room because he knew that once Hannah took off her makeup and put on her ‘inside clothes’—he’d given up trying to understand what that meant—she’d come down to tidy up.
What are you going to do, ask her about it?
Yes.
Well, you can’t, because it’s none of your business.
Wrong.
Nate didn’t have much experience with jealousy, but apparently it wiped out half of his IQ points and all of his common fucking sense.
He sat on the sofa and glared at the Hot Wheels cars littering the carpet. Then he glared at the blank TV screen. Then he glared at the fort, which was still standing. He’d lain in that fort with Hannah. The woman who may or may not be a pirate had never lain in a fort with Hannah. She certainly wasn’t in love with Hannah, whereas he was, so if this mysterious dog owner had any sense of fair play whatsoever she’d fuck off.
On the heels of that unbelievable nonsense, Hannah arrived. He looked up as she faltered in the doorway, peering at him with what appeared to be concern.
“Nate? Are you okay?”
He grunted in response, because if he actually opened his mouth, something ill-advised might come out. Like, Don’t have lunch with a dog-owning pirate. Or, I’d really like to kiss you again, but only if you swear on the Bible that you want it too and you’re not afraid of losing your job if you say no.
He thought it was best to avoid those sorts of statements. He was trying to keep things light.
But Hannah was making it difficult. She came over to the sofa with a swish of her swirly, knee-length skirt and said, “Nate. Seriously. You’re worrying me.”
He’d rather not worry her—since he loved her, and since she already worried too much—but he couldn’t exactly explain what his problem was, could he?
“Sorry,” he said. “I was thinking.”
She squinted at him as if he were a page of 8pt font. “About what?”
Well… “Do you have a date?” he blurted out, a burning coal of jealousy wreaking havoc in his chest. Really, he needed to know. If she did have a date, that might complicate his make-Hannah-fall-in-love-with-me mission. It was best to be forewarned.
“A date? Why on earth—wait. Do you mean with Rae?”
He shrugged, because that was what casual, unconcerned people did, right? They shrugged. “The woman with the dog.”
“Rae. No, I don’t have a date.” She narrowed her eyes. “Why would you care if I had a date, anyway?”
For about half a second, Nate considered lying. Then his brain finally woke up, and he realised that a question like that from a woman like Hannah could potentially be translated as, Please tell me why