Chapter Three
Climbing down the ladder in her kitten heels, Hannah set the armload of negligees on the rolling cart. She wanted to strangle whatever genius thought to place hanging lingerie, still in boxes, on the highest shelves in the stockroom. Right before the holiday season. As if the floor staff needed a reason not to rotate the aisle presentations.
Straightening her gray sheath dress, Hannah pushed the cart out the swinging doors of the stockroom and onto the sales floor. Most of the year she tried to appeal to women, but during the holiday, she needed to turn a man’s head. She took the sheer ivory gown from the mannequin and replaced it with a pink baby doll flyaway trimmed in black lace. She stepped back to admire the handiwork and hoped it would interest a man. It had been so long since she’d been with one she wasn’t sure. Would Mason prefer satin, sheer, lace, or nothing at all?
“Fine jewelry two, fine jewelry two,” the intercom paged. Staffing was light, so Hannah pushed the cart to the back room and headed over to the jewelry counter.
Hannah gave a can-I-help-you smile to a perky brunette eyeing the bridal sets. After trying on a few rings, the woman settled on one and turned to look for her fiancé.
“Honey, look at this one,” she chirped as a blond man approached the counter and stopped Hannah’s heart cold.
Marty.
He has the nerve to be in my store? With another poor woman who doesn’t know he already has a wife at home. Granted, when they were together, she’d worked on the west side, but still. Careless bastard should have known better.
Sucking in a deep breath, Hannah straightened her posture, forced a smile, and looked him in the eye. She recognized terror as he tugged the woman’s arm from the counter.
“Excuse me,” Hannah’s voice rang out as clear as a bell. “The ring?” She held her hand open in expectation.
“Martin!” the woman chided, sidling back to the counter. “You said we’d get the ring today.”
“Not here,” Marty barked, his face reddening.
“You said today,” the woman pouted.
“He must have somewhere to go,” Hannah taunted, surprising herself with the pleasure of finally having power over the jerk. He couldn’t expect her to let him get away with this.
Marty narrowed his eyes as he looked at her. Simple brown eyes. What she’d ever seen in him, she didn’t know. Broadening her grin, Hannah decided to have some fun. “At least you’ll save some money.”
“Oh, is there a special sale today?” the woman asked hopefully.
Hannah shook her head and addressed Marty again. “Marty’s pockets are full of gold, aren’t they, Marty?”
He grabbed the woman’s arm and gave it a not-so-gentle tug. “We’re leaving. Now.”
Hannah caught the hand still wearing the ring. The woman got caught in the middle of a cruel tug-of-war. Hannah released her first, remembering how she’d felt when she’d first discovered his deception.
“Ouch!” the woman yelped, removing the ring and returning it to Hannah. “What is going on?”
Marty shot daggers at her, but she didn’t care. Hannah lowered her voice and looked the woman in the eye. “Honey, he won’t buy you a ring. He’s married with three kids.”
…
Mason smiled from his perch in the bar, watching as Hannah sashayed her way into the restaurant five minutes early. Her soft brown hair fell loosely across her back. He liked it down, long and flowing and begging to be touched. He wanted to so badly, he balled his hands into fists at his sides.
Dropping a few bills on the bar, he slid off his stool. In just a few long strides, he found himself beside her, helping take her coat off, his fingers brushing against her hair. It was softer than he’d imagined, like spun silk.
Her scent wafted toward him, light and floral, like flowers after the rain. How had he missed that before? Had the aroma of detergent or coffee simply washed her out, or had she put it on tonight for him?
Pulling her coat away from her body, he stepped back and took a lingering gaze. She was exquisite from head to toe. Her wide-neck sweater kissed at her creamy shoulders, the hazy pale-gray complementing her eyes. He studied the angle of her collarbone, the curve of her neck, the little dip where her throat met her torso. Her sweater sat too high to gift him with a view of cleavage, but he drank in the swells of her breasts beneath the soft fabric.
His gaze drifted down her body, enjoying the silky look of the black skirt twirling a few inches above her knee. Her black boots made him want to beg for mercy. A toe so pointy it must be painful. Black leather laced up the side all the way to her knee. The thin heels on the boots were at least three inches high. Yowza.
“Mason?” Her sweet voice snapped him back to reality.
He cleared his throat, twice, before even trying to say something coherent. “Hmm?” He couldn’t manage more with all the blood in his body occupied south of the border.
“I asked if you’d been waiting long. I know how much I hate to be kept waiting.”
With those boots, she almost looked him in the eye. He could just lean forward and kiss her. A genius must have designed those things.
“You’re not much of a talker, are you?” she asked, cocking her head to the side.
He cleared his throat again, but before he spoke, a hostess arrived and led them to their table. Why Hannah had chosen this restaurant, he’d never know. Orchid was a popular Thai place, more family than romantic. And just two blocks from the laundromat. Maybe she wanted to stick close to home.
“Do you like living downtown?” he managed to ask after cooling his body temperature with the ice water the hostess set before him.
Her posture straightened. “How do you know where I live?”
Mason held open his hands. “I don’t. I just assumed. This place, the laundromat, and the coffee shop are all within a three-block radius. Something is pulling you this direction.”
Her expression softened as she relaxed her shoulders. “You shouldn’t assume. All three places are close to the train line as well.”
He smiled and shook his head. “You’re never going to cut me a break, are you?”
“Not until you’ve earned it.” She grinned back and took a sip from her own glass. Her ripe mouth mesmerized Mason. He watched her dart her pink tongue between her full lips to swipe a stray drop of water, and he spread his legs, allowing more room in his pants. He recalled all too vividly the things she managed with that tongue.
Mason drained the rest of his water, rattling the ice cubes in the bottom of the glass. After wiping the condensation from the glass, he spread the cool water across the back of his neck. Was she really making him sweat by sheer proximity? If she could do this completely clothed, he’d be wrecked if she were naked. A vision of her naked danced before his eyes, and his pulse soared like fire in the wind.
“Do you like spicy?” Hannah asked from behind her menu.
Holy hell. “The hotter the better.”
…
The man got hotter every time she saw him. Before he’d always been wearing work clothes. She’d wondered if it was the fire department emblem that made him seem so sexy. Hannah had always had a thing for heroes. But it wasn’t the uniform that turned her head. It was the man beneath it.
Hannah was impressed to see he’d primped a bit himself. His work boots had been replaced by brushed-leather oxfords. Her gaze rested on the vee of his broad chest covered in soft blue cashmere. The fabric draped suggestively, reminding her of the body she’d dreamed about beneath. The cobalt of the sweater brought out the pinstripe in the flat-front microfiber slacks he wore. His warm-brown hair was still spiky, but less just-rolled-out-of-bed and more natural and touchable.
And she wanted to touch him—every long inch of him—while staring into those deep middle-of-the-ocean-blue eyes. It was now officially her favorite color.
Goodness, she needed to get a grip on herself. She’d agonized over what to wear for almost an hour before copying the outfit on a mannequin she’d dressed yesterday. She’d let her hair down and spritzed herself with perfume before leaving the store. Everyone must have guessed she had a date.
The sick thing was she’d wanted them to. Everyone at worked teased her for being a workaholic. She hadn’t been on an actual date in a long time. Something she’d planned beforehand and made time for. This was the first date she’d been on during the holiday season in four years.
Which had probably made things very easy for Marty, she thought with a huff. Maybe married men scoped out retail managers because they would be too busy to notice being ignored during one of the most important times of the year. She shook her head to dispel the memory. Marty had no business here tonight.
“What?” Mason’s low baritone rumbled over the hum of the busy restaurant.
“What what?” she teased and smiled. He had the bluest eyes she’d ever seen. A true cobalt blue she noticed in the bright lighting of the restaurant.
“You shook your head,” Mason said wistfully. “My conversational skills disappointing you again?”
“Of course not,” Hannah said, surveying the vegetable remains of her pad thai. “You were a little quiet in the beginning, but you warmed right up. I’m actually relieved dominating a conversation isn’t a family trait.”
In the last half hour, they’d covered all the first-date basics. Hannah had discovered they actually had a lot in common. They generally liked the same music, occasionally the same movies, and rarely had similar tastes in books. They rambled about everything and nothing as they made their way through appetizers and entrees.
There was nothing about him she hated and a lot of things she liked. He listened intently, waiting for her to volunteer information instead of prying it out of her. Something was happening with this man, something wonderful.
She reached across the table and laid her fingers lightly over his, amazed by the warmth of his skin. Every inch of him was hot. Too tempting. She hadn’t even figured out what was wrong with him yet. Hannah pulled her fingers back.
He flipped his hand over and caught hers, blocking her retreat with the steady grasp of his fingers. Palm to palm, she couldn’t ignore the heat pulsing between them. He slowly rubbed his thumb across the back of her hand. The contrast of textures made her all the more aware the casual touch was anything but.
“Do you want to know why I’m finding it hard to focus?” His expression changed. No longer free and easy, he was suddenly serious.
“Are you going to give me a lesson on genetics?” She teased to lighten his mood. She was still too nervous with him to go there. “Are all firemen experts on the rules of inheritance?”
He shook his head slowly as a grin played on his lips. “Firefighter. Firemen are the guys who load coal on trains.”
“What?”
“Nothing, it’s just a reflex. You look amazing.”
“Thank you,” she said automatically, deflecting the compliment by looking away. Heat prickled her from her shoulders to her cheeks. Blushing. She felt the weight of his stare on her bare shoulders, and she swung her hair forward. She tried to remove her hand, but he held firm, continuing a lazy circle of the back of her hand with his thumb.
“Hannah.” Mason’s voice rumbled between them.
Her stomach fluttered. She still wasn’t used to the sound of her name on his lips. She wasn’t shy, just out of practice. No need to act like an inexperienced schoolgirl, no matter how he made her swoon. After all, she’d bought the sweater this afternoon because it made her feel sexy. And the boots, well, they might be a little much, but she’d wanted to see if she could get a rise out of him. She looked up to meet his gaze.
“When I saw you, I couldn’t think, just like the first time. You’re beautiful.” He smiled, the dimple in his left cheek making a token appearance. “And those boots are doing terrible things to my self-control.”
Hannah’s tongue pushed against the back of her teeth as she smiled in glee. She affected his self-control? At least that leveled the playing field. “They are fantastic, aren’t they?” She jutted a long leg from beneath the table. “We just got them in last night. They’re completely impractical but too fantastic to resist.”
“I can think of some practical uses for them.” Mason wrapped his fingers around her wrist. If he took her pulse right now, he might guess what she was imagining. Him on his knees, her standing in front of him wearing nothing but the come-and-get-me boots. He’d look up at her with an expression not unlike the one he’d worn when they started down this road.
Too far, too fast.
She jerked her hand back as if bitten. She would never be seduced by someone she didn’t know ever again.
“You could aerate a lawn,” he offered quietly. Her gaze searched him as he slowly withdrew his hand.
“That’s really what you were thinking?” She might be out of practice when it came to dating, but she knew a come-on when she heard one. Or at least she thought she did.
He grinned across the table. “No, but given your reaction, it seemed like a nice save.” A waiter returned with their bill. Tucking her hair behind her ears, she reminded herself the naughty vision lived in her own head. She couldn’t punish Mason for her overactive, undersexed imagination.
After Mason dealt with the waiter, he turned his attention back to her. “I’m thinking in those boots you wouldn’t have to stand on your toes to kiss me.” Mason rose from his chair. “Shall we?” he asked, offering her his hand.
“Kiss? Here?” In the middle of a crowded restaurant? Had he forgotten how she’d reacted the last time he kissed her? Hannah’s stomach quivered, and she licked her lips in anticipation. She remembered all too well the delicious kisses this man served up, and she very much wanted to sample some more.
Mason laughed wickedly and shook his head, pulling her to her feet. Her body aligned with his. They were so close his warmth was like an embrace. Her nipples peaked as his hard chest flexed against hers. “Anytime, anywhere. But I think I should walk you home first.”
…
Mason held her hand as they crossed the street. Innocent enough, gentlemanly even, if not for the ever-present tickle of his finger against her palm. A tickle that intensified and made its way straight to her core.
Stopping short, he jerked his arm forward, propelling her into his open arms. He wrapped her in a hug so warm and comforting she forgot where they were until he whispered, “Wait for me here. Let me surprise you.”
She was stunned by the way he whirled her around, and her breath had yet to catch up. She could only nod. He gave her the faintest kiss, just a brush of lips along her cheek, but it left her dazed when he released her and disappeared into a chocolate shop.
She forced herself not to stare in the shop window and drool after him. Instead, she turned her attention to the display window of the neighboring store.
She decided headless mannequins made for a more attractive presentation. The painted faces and tacky wigs distracted from the clothes and accessories. Hannah admired the snub-toe tweed pumps in the display, studying them hopefully.
“Hannah?” A man’s voice said from behind her. Not Mason’s. Hannah looked into the reflection of the window. Jeremy Taylor, one of the other store-manager candidates. Fixing a smile on her face, she turned around.
“Jeremy,” she said, not bothering to mask her annoyance.
He nodded, his gaze traveling up and down and up again. “I tried to call you today, but you’d already left.”
“Really?” she said, feigning interest. “Did you lose your buyer directory again?”
Jeremy gave a strangled laugh. “No, I wanted to talk to you about the management-training seminar. I offered to help you lead it.”
Hannah tried not to let her surprise show. The seminars were complete and ready to go. Her entire next week was devoted to traveling to the different stores in the metro area and rallying the management teams to holiday greatness.
“The seminar for your store? Your input would be helpful. We can target your newer managers directly.”
Jeremy shook his head. “All of the stores. Dean and Judy agreed you need the help.”
The heels on her boots gave her an extra inch on him as she met his leering gaze. He’d talked to the district and regional manager about her needing help? She schooled her face into a polite smile. She didn’t need anyone’s help, least of all a lazy deadweight like Jeremy Taylor.
“We’ll be spending a lot of time together,” Jeremy continued, stepping closer.
Where the hell is Mason? Jeremy had made passes at her before, but she’d always been able to deflect with humor or quotations from the Mendelssohn’s employee handbook. If Jeremy stepped any closer, Hannah might find another practical use for the heel of her new boots.
“Give me a call tomorrow at work and we can discuss what you can contribute.” She knew Jeremy well enough to know he wanted credit, not extra work. She’d give him the kudos if he’d leave her the hell alone.
“Let’s grab a cup of coffee and talk about it now. Or not talk about it.” He tilted his head downward. She saw no redeeming flecks of color in his black eyes.
“I’m actually waiting for someone.” Hannah backed against the glass. She took a deep breath and reminded herself she had to work with this guy. She’d pay for a bitchy brush-off for years, especially if she wound up managing his store.
“I don’t believe that.” He lowered his voice. “No man in his right mind would leave you all alone.”
Hannah squared her shoulders. Bitchy it was.
“I am a little bit crazy.” She heard Mason’s rich baritone drawl as he slipped his fingers around her clenched fist. She enjoyed every twitch on Jeremy’s face as the two men eyed each other. Mason stuck out his right hand. “Mason McNally. And you are?”
Jeremy returned the gesture. “Jeremy Taylor. Hannah and I work very closely together.”
“Oh, Jeremy.” Mason turned and gave her a knowing look. “Right, Hannah’s mentioned you.”
She fought the grin playing at her lips. Mason played his role very effectively.
Jeremy scowled at Mason. “I just asked Hannah about going for coffee. Why don’t you join us?”
Mason looked quizzically down at the other man. Smiling as if he were about to laugh. “Hannah doesn’t drink coffee.” He shook his head and made a move to check his watch. Without looking at the time, he said, “It’s getting late. Hannah and I need to get to bed. She has to be at work early tomorrow. Nice meeting you.”
Hannah graced Jeremy with a smile as she gladly took Mason’s hand and let him lead her away.
Once they were out of earshot, Mason asked, “Did I blow that? I guessed from the peppermint tea the other day you don’t drink coffee, right?”
“No, you were right. Talking about me as if I wasn’t standing next to you seemed strange, but I’m glad you were there.” As she squeezed his hand, he stopped walking and turned her to face him.
“That guy gives me the creeps.”
Hannah rolled her eyes. “Try working with him.”
“I mean it, Hannah, I don’t like the way he looked at you.” He slid his thumb along the back of her hand as he spoke.
Hannah forced a laugh to lighten the mood. “It’s a little early for you to be getting all possessive, don’t you think?”
Pursing his lips into a thin line, Mason nodded. Not exactly the brevity she’d hoped for.
“I’m still waiting,” she tried again.
Mason arched an eyebrow quizzically. “Oh, right. Your surprise.” From the silver bag he lifted out a tiny silver box. He opened it and two chocolate truffles shone in the light from the streetlamps. “Try it. This one first.” He pointed to the chocolate dome in front decorated with shimmering gold flecks.
Hannah balanced the candy between her fingers and took a bite. She offered the other half to Mason. The truffle fell into his mouth, but he caught her wrist, sending shivers up her spine as he sucked the melted chocolate from her fingertips.
The truffle softened in her mouth. The rich, sweet sensation grew as her mouth heated. Somehow, it tasted hot without being spicy, sweet without being sugary. “Is there chili in that?” she asked, savoring the last effects of the treat on her tongue.
Mason nodded and stepped closer. “I guessed from dinner you like things hot.”
Do I ever. “What if I hadn’t offered to share?”
He leaned in and licked her lips gently. Her stomach tightened in anticipation. As she parted her lips in invitation, he went farther, sucking her bottom lip between his before kissing her fully.
She loved the flavor of the candy, but the feel of him together with the taste of chocolate was exhilarating. Something about the clean way he smelled and the taste of him melding with the heat from the chili chocolate made her moan. He pulled away too quickly, leaving her feeling she’d somehow been shortchanged.
As her eyes fluttered open, she realized she wasn’t done with him. This man made kissing an art form, and she wanted to learn every nuance of his technique. She reached for him, but he stepped back.
“Try the other one.”
She wanted him, not chocolate. But as she came to her senses and the world widened, she realized eating chocolate was a much more appropriate activity for a busy sidewalk. She reached into the box and removed the plain chocolate cube. She stared into Mason’s eyes and popped the whole thing in her mouth.
As the truffle melted, a cool sensation flooded her senses. Not just mint, but peppermint. Her favorite. She eyed him as she rolled the flavors over her tongue. He couldn’t possibly have planned it, but she’d give him credit for it anyway. Extra credit.
“Are you going to share?” Mason whispered, gently brushing his lips across hers. A laugh hummed through her as the kiss began. She loved the firm feel of his lips demanding on hers. The taste of the chocolates and him mingled with his masculine scent and sent colors dancing across her closed eyelids.
Somewhere far away, she heard the bag drop and felt his hands come up to cup her face. Her knees weakened as he introduced her to his tongue, and she brought her hands to his chest for support. Her hands reflexively squeezed the rock-hard pecs beneath the soft sweater. She should take up sculpting. This man’s body was a work of art. She wished she wasn’t wearing a coat so she could press her body against his and feel every inch of him.
She inhaled deeply and released her breath in a long sigh. She drew away slightly, just enough to look into his eyes. She touched his face, tracing her finger over the lips she’d just savored. Pleasure propelled her forward to catch the smell of his skin, and she began swathing him with soft, gentle kisses once more.
A whistle from another place and time echoed in her ears. Mason pulled away slowly and then stepped back out of reach. Hannah lifted a hand to her own mouth, amazed at the sensation. If he kissed like that, Hannah ached to know what else he could do.