Just a few inches more and their lips would meet. He could anticipate the velvety softness of hers, taste their sweetness. Hank swallowed, sucked in air, and forced his wayward thoughts back to the matter at hand. “To see if I might want to rent to you long-term.”
If he kissed her, she might kiss him back and it could lead to more.Tonight. Now.His body got the message loud and clear.
He leaned back and struggled to curb his enthusiasm. He was her landlord. He did not want her thinking a night with him was an even exchange of goods and services. No matter how enjoyable it would be in the moment. They would regret it later. Hank did not want that. No, he was pretty certain he wanted a lot more than sex and regret. He had traveled down that particular highway plenty of times. This time... He unfastened his seat belt. This time he wanted so much more.
He smiled and winked. “I’ll take that as a yes.” Before she could protest, he opened the door and scrambled out with a jaunty wave. “See ya tomorrow, Beth.”
Bethany watchedHank’s long-legged stride eat up the distance from her car to the entrance of the Ritz. The door attendant greeted him, all smiles. Hotel staff rushed to offer their assistance, along with a security guard and someone who looked like a bouncer. Two young ladiesapproached with pen and paper, pleading for autographs. How long had they been waiting?
Bethany forced herself to draw breath.
Hank ran a hand through his hair and tossed a glance Bethany’s way, catching her stare. He reacted by presenting her with a wide smile—and those darn dimples. Then he turned to the girls, signed their papers with a slash, and went inside. He didn’t look back. Bethany watched the entire scene until Hank and his entourage vanished from sight.
Her hands shook on the wheel. She took deeper breaths, but still her heart beat an unsteady rhythm. Her head felt like an egg had cracked inside it and was about to spill. What was wrong with her? Hadn’t she learned anything from her time with Desmond? Weren’t all celebrities lazy, lying cheats? And this one—she gripped the steering wheel until her hands were white—could tempt a nun.
She forced her hands to loosen, find the gear shift and put the car in drive, while her heart beat arat-a-tat-taton the walls of her chest. Hank Haverill played her like a set of drums. Her insides were jumpy, as if she were offbeat because of their latest interaction. Trouble was, Bethany felt somehow like the way to get back on track was to be played again. And she would not let that happen.Never again.
She stepped on the gas and headed toward her house—the house she’d grown up in and where she and Travis still lived. A cute yellow bungalow that welcomed her at the end of the day like a sunny smile.
Bethany drew in another sharp breath in a desperate attempt to slow her beating heart. It was one thing to feed and talk to a television star who looked and acted like a Greek god. It was fantastical to think said television star might find her attractive...might want to stick around and be with her. He claimed it was to act as a repairman for all the things wrong with the building, but Bethany didn’t buy his story for a moment.
She bit her lip. Maybe she was wrong. Maybe it’s my cooking.But if Hank Haverill wanted her, he wasn’t the type of man to show restraint. She had a feeling that whatever Hank desired, Hank got.
She turned onto her street and pulled into the driveway. Travis had left the porch light on, but the inside lights were off, which meant he was in bed.Thank God.She wasn’t up to talking to her brother tonight.
The blood in her veins churned like water, and her stomach quivered. She sat in the driveway, tilted her head back on the headrest, squeezed her eyes shut, and shivered. She wasn’t at all sure she was strong enough to fight her attraction to Hank Haverill.
And that scared the stuffing out of her.
Hank enteredhis hotel room feeling good, but it didn’t take long for his mood to sour. It came in the form of a phone call from dear old dad. The old man possessed a sixth sense capable of zeroing in on Hank’s happiness and then blasting the emotion to smithereens.
“Hank, it’s your father. Sorry to call so late, but I have something important to talk to you about.”
“Does it begin with an M and end with a Y?” Hank put his phone on speaker and closed the blinds on the view of the city and twinkling lights outside. You never knew when a crazed photographer or fan would decide to climb the building just so they could peer inside his window and snapa few pictures. He did not relish the thought of being caught in his boxers.
“No, it begins with a C.”
“Coins?” He set the phone on the bed and sank down next to it, eyeing the clean lines of the plush ivory comforter.
“You always did have an odd sense of humor.”
“How would you know? You weren’t around for the majority of my childhood.”
“Are we back to that old song again? How many times have I explained that I visited when I could? I had a lot going on back then.”
Hank’s blood sizzled like water on a hot pan. Sweat dotted his forehead. He pulled his shirt over his head and shivered as the cool air from the air-conditioning hit his skin. He removed one shoe, then the other and stretched his legs across the bed. “I didn’t need a visitor. I needed a dad.”
“You have a dad.”
“Now who’s joking? All right, I’ll play along. What do you want...Dad?” Hank slipped off his shorts until he was sitting in his boxers.
“Connor mentioned you’re in Cleveland this weekend, investing in some kind of fitness center. What’s that about?”
“Yeah, my advisors and staff seem to think it’s a good investment. I’m not sure I’ll do it, though. There are four mom-and-pop businesses in the building. If I open a center, I’ll force them to move, which would probably make them close. I’m going to be here a while longer, while I figure it out.”
“It’s not your job to keep a bunch of little mom-and-pop stores alive, is it?”
“Well, no, but?—”
