The Piano Man Project Page 0,25
a barely there trace, lingering, tasting her lips as if they held the last drops of precious champagne.
And then he broke the kiss, still holding her, shaking his head a little as if trying to clear it, or worse, as if he were ashamed.
‘I don’t play the piano, Honey,’ he said, his lips moving against her ear. ‘I’m not the man.’
‘I don’t care, Hal. I don’t even want a pianist,’ she said, clinging to him, hating that she could sense his withdrawal from her. ‘I think it should be you. You’re the man I need. No one’s ever kissed me like that.’
‘Then you’ve been kissing the wrong men,’ he said gently, his hands finding her shoulders as he stepped back. ‘Go inside, Strawberry Girl. Go to bed. I shouldn’t have kissed you. I won’t do it again.’
She didn’t need to be able to see his eyes to know that he was lying. He’d wanted that kiss every bit as much as she had.
‘There,’ he murmured, propelling her gently across the tiles. ‘You’ve been walked home and kissed goodnight. Consider your date officially rescued.’
She watched him disappear through his door, knowing with certainty that she’d spent ninety-five per cent of the night with the wrong man.
Hal closed his door and reached out for the whisky bottle he’d left on his hall table when he’d heard Honey come in. Every encounter with Strawberry Girl taught him new things about her. How she smelled. How she laughed. The colour of her hair, and now the dress size of her clothes. This encounter had taught him more intimate things, hints of how she tasted, of the peach-like softness of her skin, of the dips and hollows of her spine. He’d held her curves in his hands and wanted things he hadn’t wanted in months.
He tipped the bottle to his lips, welcoming the harsh spirit as mouthwash to clear away the sweetness of Honey. He’d fucked up majorly out there. It would be easy and convenient to blame it on the whisky, and no doubt that’s what he’d do when he talked to her again. Now that she’d gone, their kiss served only as a reminder of all the things that were no longer a part of his life, of the woman who’d said she wanted forever until forever suddenly meant life beside a man who couldn’t see her.
He’d loved, and thanks to the accident, he’d lost. He’d lost, and he’d lost, until there was nothing more to lose. His restaurant? Sold. His cars? Auctioned. His fiancée? She’d tried to adjust, but in truth she’d fallen for Hal’s life as much as for him and it had been too big an ask. And now he was here in this house, and his plan to adjust to life alone had already hit rocky waters because of his madcap neighbour’s search for her goddamn elusive orgasm. He shouldn’t have kissed her. He had nothing to give. In the many, many long dark days and sleepless nights since the accident, there was one thing he’d come to realise with perfect clarity. From here on in, his life wasn’t going to include romance. He wouldn’t let another woman close enough to set him aside when she decided being with him was too difficult, and equally he wouldn’t let another woman contemplate a half life at his side. He didn’t need a nursemaid and he didn’t need a guide. It was finally time to learn how to deal with this fucking nightmare on his own.
Hal made his way to bed, wishing he could turn the clock back and resist the urge to open his front door when he’d heard Honey come in that evening.
CHAPTER EIGHT
‘He didn’t even kiss you goodnight?’ Tash said, looking disgusted as she stirred sugar into her coffee in Honey’s tiny kitchen. Honey shook her head. ‘I don’t think he even noticed when I left,’ she said, remembering Hal’s kiss instead. Tash had arrived five minutes earlier, a flying visit on her way to work and a long haul stint to Dubai for an update on piano man numero uno, as she’d laughingly referred to Deano when she walked through the door.
‘Piano man numero uno was el crappo, if you must know,’ Honey had said gloomily as she slid a mug towards Tash across the work surface. ‘I think it’d be best all round if we just abandon the whole stupid piano man thing altogether.’
‘No way, Honeysuckle,’ Tash grinned. ‘We’re only just warming up. Nell has someone