Hank slipped into military mode. “Annabeth, I think you’d better tell me what this is all about.”
“In the car. I’ll tell you everything when we’re on our way. Just hurry up and get dressed.”
Hank was silent for a long moment. “Where are you?” he finally asked, his voice a harsh whisper.
Annabeth crossed her fingers. “Outside. On your front porch.”
She heard the sound of feet clamoring down the stairs, and suddenly one of the ornate oak doors was being pulled open. Turning to face Hank, Annabeth had to bite her bottom lip to keep her mouth from falling open as her gaze traveled up a pair of bare feet and well-defined legs, to slim hips wrapped in nothing but a black towel. Hank’s sculpted abs and chest were bare, his fifty-year-old muscles rivaling anything she’d seen at the Ship’s Iron Gym. His hair was still damp; a dab of shaving cream lingered behind his left ear. He hadn’t even bothered to put his glasses on.
“Hi,” she managed to push out as her entire body sang with joy at the sight of him.
“Get in here,” Hank hissed.
Easier said than done—Annabeth’s knees had turned to Jell-O—but she managed to scramble off the porch and into his foyer. She placed her purse on the beautiful Chippendale table in the entryway, quickly calculating the amount of weight it could bear before sharply reminding herself that they needed to get to New Jersey right away. Spinning on her heel, she turned to find Hank leaning against the massive front doors, arms over his chest and his feet crossed at the ankles. Apparently, he was not as affected by his near-nudity as she was.
“Look, Annabeth, if you came here about Will, I can’t help you . . .”
“I didn’t come here about Will.” She took two steps toward him. “New Jersey is about Will. I came here, to you, because you were right. Because I want to be more,” she whispered as she tentatively placed a hand on his heart. Immediately, his hand covered hers, cocooning it in the warmth of his skin. “I came here because I’m done hiding.”
Moving her body closer to his, she stretched up on her toes and kissed him. It was a sweet kiss, one in which she tried to apologize for the way she’d hurt him the other day. But Hank would have none of it. His hands went to her hair as he delved deeper into her mouth, their tongues sliding against one another. She moaned as his mouth left hers, finding its way to her sensitive neck.
“God, Annabeth, I thought I’d never see you again,” he murmured against her skin. “I’ve missed you.”
She pulled his mouth back to hers and kissed him with a slow hunger that threatened to completely obliterate her plans. Somehow, the backs of her thighs had come in contact with the Chippendale table and her dress was now bunched up at her waist. Hank’s hands squeezed her bottom as he lifted her onto the table. When she wrapped a leg around him, her calf came in contact with his bare ass. Annabeth drew her hands over his sides, and then his back, reveling in the muscles bunched beneath her fingertips.
With a soft moan, she pulled out of the kiss. Hank rested his forehead on her shoulder as both of them struggled for breath.
“We can’t do this right now.” She traced her finger down his rib cage. “We have to go to New Jersey first.”
“The Jersey Turnpike will be a parking lot at this hour.” He stroked a thumb over her pebbled nipple.
“We have to. For Will.”
Hank let out a long-suffering groan in protest. She felt his erection jump between their bodies. He took a step back, reaching down to the floor to retrieve his towel.
“I’m not going to New Jersey for Will.” He tied the towel around his waist as Annabeth’s heart stopped in panic. “I’m going for you.”
She sucked in a relieved breath. “Thank you,” she whispered. “And if you still want me after what I have to do there . . .”
Hank closed the space between them, bracketing her face in his hands. “Annabeth, I’ve wanted you since long before the morning I saw you standing in my library.” He placed a tender kiss on one side of her mouth. “I’ve adored you since you first stuck up for Sophie.” Gently his lips brushed her mouth’s other corner. “I fell in love with you on a ferryboat. Nothing you can do could make me want you, adore you, or love you less.” He kissed her fully this time with the promise of wicked things to come later, while totally annihilating any brain cell activity Annabeth had left. When his mouth reluctantly left hers, her lips nearly whimpered in protest.
“But we’ll do it your way. We’ll go to New Jersey.” He pinned her with an arresting glance. “But afterward, you’re mine.”