He and Marla had hooked up once and discovered they had zero sexual chemistry. They had remained friends, but to the rest of the world it looked different when they were snapped leaving clubs and parties together. Marla was a very hands-on person, and she liked playing it up for an audience.
But he wasn't interested in Marla right now. The only woman who held his attention was right in front of him. He grabbed his glass of milk and drained it in one gulp.
Hannah's grin widened. "Nice milk 'stache there, Derek."
Damn. And here he was hoping to look all grown up and mature. He scrubbed the back of his hand across his upper lip. If only Hannah had a milk 'stache, too. He bet she'd look really cute with one. And wouldn't it be fun to lick it off her upper lip …
The image sent a pang right through him. He gripped his glass hard, the coolness pressing against his hot palm.
"So aside from Marla, there's no one serious in your life?" Hannah asked, apparently oblivious to his reaction. Christ, if she knew what he was thinking, she'd be horrified. Or, worse, amused.
"No." He studied her closely, trying-and failing-to see if his answer pleased her or not.
"Guess you're young, and L.A. is filled with gorgeous young women. You don't want to tie yourself down."
"I'm not that young," he protested. He'd never felt young. Never experienced that carefree childhood other kids had.
Hannah tilted her head, studying him in that focused way of hers that made him feel he was the only person who mattered. This must be how her patients felt when she took care of them.
"True," she said. "In some ways you always were more mature than the other boys." He winced internally at being lumped with the "other boys," but Hannah continued. "And you've achieved so much at such a young age-your furniture business and your TV show."
"It's not ‘my' TV show," he was quick to point out. "I just have one segment, and it's only on cable."
Carpentry was his passion, not television. Hannah's late grandpa Joe had nurtured his interest, patiently showing him how to hone his craft. He'd started his cabinetmaking apprenticeship while still in high school, and when he'd turned eighteen he'd moved to Los Angeles, eager to get away from his grandfather. Now, with Ben, his business partner and friend, he had a thriving business in high-end, bespoke cabinetry. That was his focus, not the TV stuff.
"The TV thing's only temporary," he said. "Nothing long term."
"Hmm." Leaning an elbow on the table, Hannah tapped a finger against her chin as her clear green eyes studied him. Her appraising look reminded him of the times she'd told him he needed a haircut or a clean T-shirt. "And what do you want long term?"
He'd thought he'd always known what he wanted. When he was a kid drifting around southern California with his mom, all he'd wanted was for them to settle in one place and put down roots. Then, when she'd dumped him with Grandpa Otto here in Pine Falls so she could join a commune somewhere in the wilds, all he'd craved was autonomy from his overbearing grandfather. Having Caleb and Hannah in his life had made things bearable, but after Hannah had married and moved away, he could hardly wait to finish high school and get away. He knew what he wanted-independence, a good job, and money wouldn't hurt either. He'd gotten all that and more money than he expected.
But now Hannah was sitting a few inches away, and right at this moment he knew what he really wanted.
"Long term? I don't make plans too far ahead, but right now it's a nice evening. Why don't we go out for a drink?"
Chapter Two
My kid brother's best friend just asked me out for a drink.
In all her wildest dreams, Hannah had never imagined she'd be having this bizarre thought. Derek looked expectantly at her, and she realized she'd been staring at him for some time. Quite possibly with her jaw hanging open, too.
"U-uh," she stuttered. "You mean like at a bar or something?" God, she sounded like such an idiot.
Derek's lips twitched at the corners. "Yeah, a bar would be good. I am over twenty-one, you know."
Ah, hell. As if she needed any reminding of his age. She sneaked another peek at him, and once again a weird frisson ran through her as she took stock of how much he'd changed.
She gave herself a mental shake. Of course Derek had changed. Since she'd last seen him he'd gone from boyhood to manhood. He was a fully functional adult now, and a very successful one, too. Though it seemed he couldn't avoid the police here in Pine Falls.
"Is something wrong?" Derek lifted his eyebrows.
What was wrong? Nothing, and everything. She couldn't explain it, this jumble of emotions his appearance had triggered.
"No," she said automatically.
"You look upset."
She wasn't used to someone noticing her feelings. She'd been with Rick too long, that was for sure. When had Rick stopped being concerned about her feelings? Had it started a lot earlier than she realized? Maybe even back when they were just dating. Certainly he hadn't cared about her feelings when he'd cheated on her with that radiology technician. She'd found out later it wasn't the first time he'd slept around, not by a long shot. Now Rick was living the single high life in Miami. And Hannah was back home, with nothing to her name except a few hundred dollars in the bank and a beat-up old Ford Fiesta.
She flicked back her ponytail, searching for a chirpy tone. "I'm not upset. Must be my wrinkles confusing you."
He leaned toward her across the table, and his searching eyes made the heat rise in her cheeks. "Can't see any wrinkles from where I'm sitting."
The warmth intensified in her face. "If I didn't know any better, I'd think you were flirting with me, Derek Carmichael." She added a flippant wave of her hand, knowing that was the only way to treat his words.
His eyes widened, and for a second she saw genuine surprise. He really had the most attractive eyes. Clear cerulean with tiny specks of silver, fringed with dark lashes. A girl could get lost in those eyes- She cut off her thoughts before they wandered into dangerous territory. She'd just recently divorced her lying, cheating, dirtbag husband; this was no time to fall under another man's spell. Especially one as footloose and fancy-free as Derek.
Derek gave her a lopsided grin. "Me? Flirt? You know me. I never flirt."
That was true. When he was a teenager she'd never seen him chase after any girl. They just fell for him. And now it seemed he had women like Marla Beaudry at his beck and call. Marla, with those big lips and busty curves. How dull and skinny she felt in comparison … Wait a second. Why on earth was she even comparing herself to Marla? She wasn't competing for Derek's attention.
She shook her head, annoyed with herself. "Well, that's a relief."
He was still leaning over the table, his expression intent. "So, how about it?"
He was so large, not just in size but presence, too. His forearms resting on the table were roped with muscle, and she felt a strange itch to brush her fingers over those solid, manly arms.
"How about what?" she asked, feeling hopelessly out of her depth.
"How about that drink? I hear Jimmy's is still open downtown. Shouldn't be too busy on a Wednesday night."
"Uh, I, uh … " Hell, why couldn't her mouth form any words?
"I'd just have to check on my grandpa first. Make sure he's finished his dinner and all. But I'm certain he won't want me at home this evening."
Her heart panged for Derek. He'd never spoken much about his grandfather, but it was plain Otto didn't care for his only grandson. Pine Falls had its fair share of cantankerous old hermits, and Otto was well known for his grumpiness and his desire for isolation. Judging by the amount of time Derek had spent here at the Willmett house, he'd had a tough time living with his granddad. So coming back and putting himself in this situation would be no picnic for Derek, especially when he had no reason to, except for his conscience.
But this didn't help her. She had enough trouble adjusting to this adult, attractive Derek without going all mushy inside about him.
"I don't think Jimmy's is a good idea," she said, more abruptly than she intended.
"Why not?"
"Because, um, I have work tomorrow."
"I was only suggesting one drink, not an all-night party." He paused. "We could do that another night."
"Me? An all-night party?" she scoffed.
"Why not?"
"Stop asking why not." At the back of her mind curled a wisp of panic.
"It's a valid question." He continued to gaze at her, persistent and unruffled. "We're both adults. We can go to a bar and enjoy a drink. I don't see the big deal."
How could he sit there looking so calm? It didn't matter how grown up he looked, he was still her kid brother's friend, and she couldn't get her head around that. And besides, he was a player-exhibit A: Marla Beaudry-and she was on a strict no-player diet.