He touched her cheek. "I don't want things to get weird between us."
So he was feeling the same confusion. Thank God he was leaving today. It would be a while before they bumped into each other again, and hopefully by then this awkwardness between them would have worn off.
"No, I'm fine," she lied. She tossed back her hair in an effort to show nonchalance. "Drive safely."
Derek stared at her for a long while like he was trying to memorize her face. "I will. Take care of yourself, Hannah."
Suddenly there was a lump in her throat, and she couldn't swallow it away. "You too," she whispered.
He wrapped his arms around her in a quick hug and left without a word, shutting the door quietly behind him. She heard his SUV starting up, and as the sound of the motor faded away, she hugged her bathrobe closer to her.
Last night had been incredible fun, but it was over, and she had to deal with reality now. She had to pretend that nothing had ever happened, that Derek was still just her brother's friend. The thought of Caleb made her bite her lip.
With her mom's apathy and her dad's long-haul trucking, she and Caleb had relied on each other from a young age. She was the sensible older sister he depended upon, and he was the cheeky young brother she could count on for a smile. They had grown closer since their dad had remarried. Rosalind was a friendly stepmom, but she'd changed the dynamics in the family, and sometimes Hannah needed an ally in Caleb. She couldn't imagine looking her kid brother in the eye and admitting she'd slept with his best friend.
And Caleb was due here for dinner tomorrow. His construction job took him out of town for much of the time, but he returned to Pine Falls as often as he could. She'd have to get her game face on by tomorrow night if she didn't want to give herself away.
She ran upstairs, taking them two at a time, eager to get on with her day and put Derek to the back of her mind. But when she reached her bedroom, crumpled sheets and condom wrappers confronted her. She hurried to restore her room to order, stripping the linen off her bed, stuffing the trash into a garbage can, tossing her clothes from last night into the laundry hamper.
She jumped into the shower and spent forever soaping, shampooing, scrubbing. There were hickies on her lower neck, and a crushed, sensuous look to her mouth. She hoped like hell no one at work would notice, especially not her boss. Her shift started at seven, and she had no time for breakfast or even a cup of coffee.
She drove out to Avalon House, her battered Ford giving a few more chokes and belches than usual. She couldn't afford a better car; she was saving every penny for when she started college.
As part of their divorce settlement, Rick had agreed to give Hannah a lump sum that would cover half her college fees, though the check hadn't arrived yet and she wasn't expecting it anytime soon. She could have fought for more or to get the money upfront, but all she'd wanted was to get him out of her life as quickly as possible. Especially when she'd learned that he had been cheating on her for at least a year and blown a small fortune on strippers and hotel rooms and expensive gifts. How many "girlfriends" had he brought to their condo, and how many pieces of furniture had he defiled? Which was why she hadn't wanted anything from the condo either, except for her personal possessions.
She arrived at Avalon House with two minutes to spare and hurried into the building, but before she'd even made it to the locker room, she was waylaid by Vera, the nurse manager. The woman, immaculate in a spotless navy blue suit, peered at Hannah over her spectacles, her mouth set in a disapproving line.
"You're late."
The clock on the wall showed one minute to seven, but Hannah nodded. Usually she was at work at least fifteen minutes before she was due.
"Sorry." She had no excuse. She could hardly say she was late because she'd had to clean up after a one-night stand of epic proportions. "It won't happen again."
Vera's mouth compacted even further into a thin, red line. "Make sure it doesn't." She sailed off without another word.
Sighing, Hannah entered the locker room to store her belongings. She'd been meaning to ask Vera for an extra shift on the weekends, but she was still on probation, and the nurse manager was distinctly cool toward her.
It didn't help that Avalon House catered to very wealthy clients, and Hannah didn't have much experience working in a nursing home. She was more used to the rough and tumble of a public hospital, and maybe she didn't have the proper refined manner for Avalon House. But this was the best job for her circumstances because it was nearby, the pay rate was relatively good, and all the other jobs on offer had been miles away. Beggars couldn't be choosers. Hannah could only hope that Vera would unbend once she'd proven herself.
Derek drove the short distance back to his granddad's place still thinking about Hannah. She'd been kinda jumpy when she bundled him out of the house. Maybe she regretted spending the night with him. He sure didn't. In fact, the highlights reel of last night kept playing in the back of his mind. If only he wasn't leaving today. But no, that was wishful thinking because even if he stayed, Hannah had made it very clear from the start that it was a one-time thing. That thought made his jaw clamp, and when he parked his car he jerked on the brake with unnecessary force.
He was still brooding as he entered the house. A cool breeze eddied around him, indicating the back door was open. He walked through to the kitchen, saw the door was indeed ajar, and went to shut it when something on the floor caught his attention. A chair lay on its side, while a plate had fallen to the ground and cracked into bits, the food it had held-some chicken and mashed potatoes-smeared across the floor tiles.
Derek's blood ran cold.
"Grandpa!"
He hurried to the living room-empty-then ran down the hallway, checking the bathroom-empty too-until he reached his granddad's bedroom at the back of the house. He pushed open the door to see his grandfather slumped across the bed, his plastered leg sticking out at an awkward angle. He put out a hand to the old man's ankle and breathed a sigh of relief as he registered the warmth in the bony leg. The old man was asleep, though he hadn't managed to draw the covers over him or change into his pajamas, since he was still dressed in yesterday's clothing.
Derek leaned closer. A faint bruise darkened one of his grandpa's cheeks, and a fresh cut scored his vein-gnarled hand, dried blood spotting the papery skin. Derek's initial relief quickly disappeared. His grandfather might be alive, but he'd obviously suffered a fall last night when trying to get his dinner.
Last night Derek had cooked dinner for both of them, but Otto had refused to eat, complaining that the chicken was too spicy and the mashed potatoes too lumpy. Derek had wrapped the leftover plate of food in cling film and stored it in the refrigerator. After cleaning up the kitchen, he'd asked his grandfather if he wanted to watch TV, but Otto had told him to go away and leave him alone. So Derek had prepared to go out, telling Otto to call him on his cell phone if there was any problem.
Well, the old man had had a problem, and hadn't called him, instead choosing to drag himself into bed where he'd suffered all night-alone.
"Stubborn old coot," Derek couldn't help muttering, overcome with frustration and guilt.
Otto's eyelids flickered open. "What did you call me, boy?" He sounded slurred but cranky as usual.
"You fell in the kitchen." Derek pointed at the bruise and the cut. "Why didn't you call me? My number's programmed into your handset. You just have to press one."
"Why should I call you? I got myself to bed, didn't I?"
"How long did that take you?" Anxiety sharpened in him. "And how long were you lying on the damn kitchen floor?"
His grandfather glowered at him. "Don't you cuss at me."
Derek bit back a retort. Now was not the time to pick an argument with the ornery man. "I'm going to call Dr. Hooper and get him to come by and check you out."
"No." Otto reared up, flailing one hand. "I'm not having that pipsqueak poking at me for no good reason."
"But you fell. You might have hurt yourself, broken something." Derek cast a worried look over his grandfather's lean figure. If only Hannah were here. She'd know how to deal with the situation.
"It's just a few scratches. I've had worse."
Otto was a Vietnam vet. He never spoke about the war, never brought out any mementos, never commemorated it, never got drunk or bitter or sentimental about it. He kept it all inside him, nothing to show for his ordeal except a long, angry red scar down the length of his right forearm. Now, he waved that arm impatiently at Derek. "Help me up, will you. Need to take a leak."
Derek assisted him to the bathroom. It was slow progress. Otto didn't like him hovering too close or standing guard outside the bathroom. Eventually they shuffled back to Otto's bedroom, where he consented to letting Derek help him into bed.