Chapter Twelve
Hannah
Hannah intended totell Dallas she’d had coffee with Tim as soon as she figured out how to best bring it up. While she didn’t want to pretend it didn’t matter, she also didn’t want it to seem too important. She wanted to get the mix right so it didn’t lead to an argument it didn’t warrant.
And yet, as Dallas dropped his overnight bag by the door, and set the dinner he’d brought on the kitchen island, she had to wonder if their relationship might be progressing a little too quickly, at that. Her expectations of him seemed impossibly high. There didn’t appear to be anything he couldn’t handle. Nobody was perfect. When would she start to notice his faults?
He didn’t give her a chance to dwell on her doubts. He scooped her into his arms and kissed her until she was breathless and clinging to him for support.
“You’re so much nicer to come home to at the end of a really long day than Ryan and Dan,” he said, smiling at her with amber-flecked eyes bright as stars. “They complain when I kiss them like that.”
She buried her face in the front of his shirt. He smelled of hospital, her almond shampoo, and freshly pressed cotton. The crisp fabric crinkled under her fingers as she ran her palms over his chest. “Maybe they heard you were cheating on them with Tom Hardy.”
“Tom and I are finished. I don’t need him, now that I have you.”
Too fast, her head whispered. Her heart couldn’t hold all the things he made it feel.
“What made the day longer than normal?” she asked, turning the conversation back to him.
“I couldn’t wait to see you again.”
“That’s so sweet.” She threaded her arms around his neck. “What was the real reason?”
Because there was one. She felt it. The usual smile in his eyes hid something deeper and darker behind it tonight. It relieved her a little. It made him seem more human.
He disentangled himself. “It doesn’t matter. It’s over and done with. We should eat while the sandwiches are still warm.”
She didn’t care how quickly things were moving between them right now. If something at work affected him enough to put that dark look in his eyes, she wanted to know all about it in case she could help. He didn’t get to pull away from her whenever he had a bad day. “If it matters to you, it matters to me. Let’s talk it out.”
He studied her for a moment. “A man lost his hand in a farm accident, today.”
She caught her breath. “The poor man. I’m so sorry.”
“Me too. There wasn’t anything I could do for him other than keep him stable until the trauma surgeon arrived. But I’m okay, Hannah. It’s not about me. He’s got the longer haul ahead of him. It’s hard to see a young guy have his whole life derailed because he chose to try and unclog a grain auger with his bare hands, that’s all. He’s lucky he didn’t lose both. Or his life.” The darkness was already receding as the humor returned. “I admit I’ll be glad when the free clinic is ready and I can move back into family medicine, although to be honest, vaccinating babies isn’t as much fun as you’d think, either. Every job has its downside.”
And he used humor to balance his out.
“Remind me never to bring my children to you for their shots,” she said, playing along.
“No worries there. Doctors aren’t supposed to treat family members anyway.”
He was only kidding around. The comment meant nothing. There was no need for her to feel this strange combination of terror and longing, as if she’d glimpsed something she desperately wanted but hadn’t yet figured out the catch. There was always a catch.
“Did I say something wrong?” Dallas asked, picking up on her mood.
“No. I was thinking I couldn’t do what you do. I can’t imagine the level of stress you have to deal with.”
“The trick is to find a good stress reliever. And I know just the thing.” He took a step toward her, his meaning clear.
Her mood instantly lightened, feeding off his, her concerns slipping away. She backed up, spun, and put the island between them. “Forget it. The taproom opens in…” She glanced at the microwave clock. “Forty-five minutes.”
He shrugged. “Plenty of time. We might have to dispense with the foreplay, though.”
She feigned outrage. “No way. That’s the best part.”
He ducked left, so she dodged to the right. They circled the island.
“Okay. Let’s sort this out,” he said. “Compromise. I’ll give you five minutes of foreplay if you give me ten minutes of oral sex. You usually take about two minutes to reach an orgasm after penetration. I should be warmed up enough by then to perform, but I’ll spot you three more minutes just in case. That’s twenty minutes, which leaves twenty-five minutes to eat dinner.”