Worth the Risk(13)
As the family sang, Stephen stepped next to her, close enough that she got that tingly-on-the-verge-of-chills feeling. He shifted and his upper arm brushed against the top of her shoulder. The warmth inside her spread, awakening possibilities she’d never considered. That she would ever meet a man. That he would ever be interested in her. And more, that she would want him to be.
Chapter 6
After cake, the entire party moved down to the yard. Stephen stood with his brothers and watched the madness that was a child’s birthday party.
“So, where’d you find her?” Tony gestured toward Hannah where she knelt a few yards away, tying his nephew’s shoe.
He’d hung back, let her do the girl thing, let her keep the spotlight away from him as he’d wanted. But she’d never been out of his sight. “Grocery store.”
“Really?” Andrew grinned. “Didn’t know you shopped. Being sexiest, most eligible man, and all.”
His brothers laughed, added more colorful comments. Shit. “I’m never going to get past that one, am I?”
“Never,” Tony said. “Maybe we should rough you up a bit.”
“You can try.” He smiled at the familiar sibling harassment, how some things never changed.
Though he’d been hugged by his mother at least eight times, received multiple pats on the back by his father, tonight hadn’t been as uncomfortable as he’d feared. Because of Hannah. His family’s curious spotlight shined on her, as he’d known it would.
God, she was sweet. The way her hair sparkled in the last ribbons of sunlight poking through the pines. The way she blushed every time their eyes met. But the delicate fabric blowing against her chest, outlining perfect breasts he dreamed of cupping in his hands…that didn’t bring to mind the word sweet. Unless he was thinking about them in his mouth.
Shit. He tipped his bottle and took a long drink. How could someone with such a hot, luscious body look so damn innocent? Definitely a puzzle.
His nieces and nephews were certainly drawn to her, as she now had a line of untied shoes. Luke stood across the yard, nodding at something Matt said, and their eyes met. It was a game they’d played all evening. Each letting the other know he was watching. And knowing that, he took three purposeful strides to stand beside Hannah.
She glanced up and smiled, quick and nervous. He held out his hand and felt the slight tremble when her fingers touched his. He pulled her to her feet.
“Cute,” she said, almost wistfully as she watched the last kid run away.
“Yeah.” But his eyes were on Hannah. The evening breeze lifted a few satiny strands and brushed them over his arm. Barely a touch, but the heat that rushed through his body burned hot and strong.
He forced his attention to a group of kids, running, puffing, and diving, in a desperate game to keep feathers off the ground without using their hands.
“Would this have been one of those times you and your brothers did something crazy?”
“Probably. You need a drink?”
He’d barely gotten the words out when he felt a thump on the arm followed by a cold splash and Hannah’s gasp. Water balloon. He took in her stunned expression, her wet shirt now practically transparent on one side.
He looked around for the source and saw his nephew Jack a few feet away, obviously the guilty party with his hand still hanging in the air. Matt stepped close and laid a protective hand on Jack’s shoulder. All adult chatter ceased and he felt their eyes fall on him like accusing fingers. Are they that afraid I’m going to lose it?
Shame washed over him, knowing why they would. He’d blown up on Christmas Eve three years ago. Broken a bottle against his mother’s hearth, screamed and cursed in front of his brothers’ kids. Made his sister’s baby cry. So consumed by anger, guilt, and grief.
After that he’d made sure he was out of town for holidays. For most days.
Rome. Zurich. Barcelona. Didn’t matter. He’d pour bourbon down his throat, screw the woman in his bed, then drink more to forget what he’d just done.
His family worried, looked at him with sad sorry eyes as they did now. And he hated it. They wanted the old Stephen back, the gentle, lighthearted man he’d been. That man didn’t exist anymore. He wasn’t fit for a children’s party, even if Matt didn’t want to believe it.
His gut reaction was to leave, throwing a dark cloud over another family gathering, except…Hannah laughed. A sound so beautiful he was caught by it, in it.
The game went on. Squeals and shouts. Conversation and movement. Everything continued around them, disaster averted.
The silk of her blouse wasn’t loose anymore, but sticking to her chest, outlining her bra beneath. Her nipples stood hard against the thin, soaked fabric and his mouth went dry. “You’re cold,” he said, finally finding his voice. “I mean…” It was cool out, but—Fuck. “Are you cold? Do you want to take it off?” Shit. Of course he hadn’t meant here and now. He should stop talking.