Chapter Five

Hanna's mind whirled as she worked. Nate left right after lunch, but she couldn't get him off her mind.

A charmer, just like Jack.

She did her best to focus on the job and not on how Nate's green eyes crinkled when he smiled at her or how generous he'd been to her—a total stranger.

As the heat of the day grew, her body slowed, but she refused to stop.

The inside of the Victorian was worse than the lawn, every room filled with vile proof of too many drunken teenage festivities. Vomit. Used condoms. Discarded panties.

This poor house had seen far more debauchery than a lady her age should. But even though she was rundown and dirty, Nate hadn't abandoned her. That said something about his character that no words ever could.

Something Hanna liked. Something she understood.

Maybe he was not like the men she was used to. He had the charming sex god part down pat, but he wasn't nearly as secretive as her exes. He'd handed her his phone. Said he had nothing to hide.

She was sure it was all part of his act. He probably had three phones—one for each of his girlfriends.

Hanna would not fall for the lies again. Jack had taught her a lesson so hard she couldn't help but learn it well the first time, because learning it twice would kill her.

He'd run her restoration business into the ground. He'd lied, stolen. She still wasn't sure just how deep the damage went, but she knew her credit score was destroyed. Her reputation in Cincinnati was shot. Even her self-confidence had taken a nearly-lethal hit.

She honestly wasn't sure how she was going to get back to where she'd been pre-Jack, and it kept her awake more nights than not.

And now here was Nate, all helpful and charming. A walking portrait of knightly chivalry helping a damsel in distress.

She wasn't falling for it. Wouldn't. Couldn't. She had nothing left she could afford to lose.

His phone sat like a hot coal in her pocket. All of his contacts. His texts. Email. It was all right there for her to read. The temptation was almost more than she could stand.

Against her better judgment, she wanted to know more about him. What he liked, what he hated. His religion and politics. Which side of the bed he liked to sleep on. Was he a morning person, or did he wake up like a grizzly with a toothache?

The phone was in her hand again before she knew how it had gotten there. She even went so far as to turn on the screen. It displayed the last text he'd sent, which had gone to Flora.

Will you fix me a couple of sandwiches to go? I don't want Hanna going hungry.

Simple, but proof that he'd been thinking about her. Worried about her.

He didn't even know her, and he'd already gone to great lengths to make sure she had a place to stay, food to eat, a job. Sure, maybe he just wanted to get in her pants, but men had wanted that from her before and they'd never gone to even half as much trouble as Nate had.

She shoved the phone back in her pocket and let out a growl of frustration. This was all too much. Her life was a disaster, and she couldn't waste precious energy on questions she couldn't answer. The only thing that mattered now was getting back on her feet.

So, rather than spending the afternoon counting all the ways in which she was totally off her rocker for being turned on by her new boss, she did what she did best: she worked. Hard, fast and without stopping.

Except to look at Nate's phone. It rang every few minutes, and she checked the screen each time to see if it was Flora calling. She assumed that since Nate had told her to call Flora to reach him, that he would use his sister's phone to reach Hanna.

But instead of Flora, the names that appeared on the screen were a string of other women, most of whom had left a message.

Beth Fortier, Fern Simmons, Seraphina Moreau, Crystal Moonglow—as if that were even a real name. Definitely a stripper, that one. Also a string of first names only: Daisy, Gemma and finally, Mindi, the waitress from the Dockside Diner.

Nate really got around with the women.

Of all the calls he received today, only one of them was a man, and that was his father.

None of her business. She didn't care if he dated the entire town. And yet somehow, the string of calls made her angrier each time the phone rang and another woman's name appeared.

She took out her frustration in her work, pushing herself harder than was probably smart. She'd feel it tomorrow, but right now she didn't care. She needed this outlet too much to worry about a few sore muscles.

The phone rang again, and this time it was the mechanic Declan calling.

Hanna decided to answer this call, hoping for good news.

"Nate said I could reach you on his phone," Declan said.

"How's Rex?"

"I'm afraid it's not good news."

Her shoulders slumped in defeat. "How bad is he?"

"Your neverspark went bad."

"My what?"

"It's the brain box that keeps the spark plugs sparking. Without it, the truck is toast."

"Can you get a new one?" she asked, praying he could find parts for her old friend.

"I can, but they're expensive. Or I can hit up my buddy who runs a salvage yard in KC and see what he's got. It'll be a lot cheaper that way."

"How long will it take to get this box?"

Declan hesitated. "Hard to say. Maybe a day or two if we're lucky."

"And if we're not?"

"I'll do the best I can, sweetheart, but I won't let you leave in a truck that isn't going to get you down the road. Which reminds me, you really need new tires, and your brakes aren't long for this world, either."

"I know he needs some maintenance, and I swear I'll get to it as soon as I get a steady paycheck. All I need is for Rex to get me to Oklahoma City."

A heavy sigh filled the line. "I understand. I'll see what my buddy can dig up and get back to you soon. Rex is in good hands."

"Thanks, Declan. I really appreciate your help."

"It's what I'm here for. Talk soon." He hung up.

Hanna leaned her head against a cracked plaster wall and took three deep breaths to steady her nerves.

She'd thought two weeks was plenty of time to get from Cincinnati to Oklahoma and still have time to scout out a place to live. She knew she'd be sleeping in Rex until her first paycheck, but she still needed somewhere to shower before work. A campground near town, maybe. A truck stop. She wasn't picky as long as she was clean.

She was sure she'd have enough time to make a plan before she had to report for work, but now her optimism faltered.

She was tired, lonely and homesick, though she had no idea why she'd miss what she'd left behind. Jack was a user asshole. Her sister was a pathological liar and drama queen. And her mom was a hot mess—jumping from man to man in search of the solution to all her problems.

Hanna liked cock as much as the next red-blooded woman, but she'd never thought it could pay the rent or put food on the table the way Mom did.

As soon as she thought about her mom, Hanna missed her. Sure, they didn't see eye-to-eye on much, but that blood bond was strong, and right now, she really wanted Mom to tell her everything was going to be okay.

Surely Nate wouldn't mind if she made one call.

Before she could talk herself out of it, she dialed Mom.

She answered on the sixth ring, her voice both curt and suspicious. Hanna could hear the sound of a soap opera in the background and wondered if Mom had lost her job again, or if she was just pretending to be at home sick.

"Hi, Mom. It's Hanna."

"Hanna, baby!" Her voice lifted to a happy cheer echoing with relief. "It's so good to hear from you. I was worried. How are you? Where are you?"

"I'm good. Rex broke down in this little town called Whisper Lake, so I'm staying here while he gets fixed."

"I told you that old piece of junk wouldn't make it halfway across the country. Are you safe?"

"Perfectly safe."

"You know how dangerous it can be in those little towns. They're all full of secrets."

"Nothing so dramatic. It's just a small town. The people I've met seem to be decent. Nice and helpful."

"Don't let them fool you, baby. You stay on your guard. Lots of serial killers hiding in the country. No one can hear their victims scream out there, you know."

That was Mom—always sure the worst thing was just about to happen.

"I'm being careful." And before Mom could scare her anymore, she asked, "How's the new job?"

"Quit. Damn place wanted to tell me when I could take a break, as if my bladder answered to their clock. I won't put up with that kind of treatment."

Hanna stifled a sigh. "Have you found a new job?"

"I'm looking," she said, clearly lying. "This new guy moved into the apartment downstairs. He said he might have a job for me. And he's easy on the eyes."

"Mom—"

"Don't you start the lecture, young lady. I know you don't want me to have a man in my life, but I'm not too old to be lonely. A woman has needs."

"Seriously, Mom? How many times have I told you that I really don't want to know about your needs. I'm more worried about you depending on some stranger for work when you don't even know what it is. What if it's like that time with Dan and he wants you to be one of his whores? Or Micky who thought you'd be great dealing meth for him? And let's not forget my favorite, Pedro, who was certain that selling dildos out of your house was going to make you both rich."

"It's not like that. Wes is a deep thinker. He has ideas. Plans."

"How long have you known him?"

"I don't see how that matters. Haven't you ever met someone and instantly known them? Like your souls knew each other from before birth?"

Hanna rubbed her temple and tried to ease the ache there. "Is he sober at least?"

"He's working the steps. Got his one-week chip just yesterday."

This was part of the reason Hanna had to leave Cincinnati. Mom was a total wreck, and no matter what Hanna did or said, Mom always went right back to old habits.

"You know what those guys are like. Most of them drink again. Do you really want to be around when it happens?"

"For your information, Wes doesn't have a drinking problem. Heroin is harder to come by, so I'm sure he'll stay strong."

"Heroin? For the love of heaven, Mom, run from this man. Run and don't look back."

"The way you ran from Jack? I don't give up on people the way you do, Hanna. Everyone should have a chance to turn their lives around."

"Jack had plenty of chances, he just didn't want any of them. He likes being an asshole."

"He treated you right. All those fancy dinners, the presents and jewelry he gave you…he deserved better than you gave him."

"He bought all of those things with my money." Or at least her credit. He'd taken out several cards in her name and she hadn't found out until collectors started calling. By then their business had already gone south and she was losing clients right and left.

It took her longer to learn why that was happening, but by the time she had, it was too late to save her company or her reputation.

Mom's tone was dismissive. "Your money, his money. Whatever. You two were practically engaged."

"No. We weren't. Not even close."

"That's not the way he sees it. He still doesn't understand why you ran away from him. He loves you, Hanna."

"You don't do the things he did to me out of love."

"You should give him another chance. He's so handsome. Think of how cute your babies would be."

The idea of having Jack's children turned her stomach. She had to breathe several times to get the rancid stench of that concept out of her system.

"I need to go, Mom. I've got a job to finish. I suggest you find work, too."

"You'll send Mama some money when you get settled, won't you, baby?" Her tone was singsong, almost childish, like a kid begging for a new toy.

"No. I won't. I told you that I'm done bailing you out of your bad choices. Sounds like Wes is just one more in a long line."

Mom's tone hardened. "Fine. Be that way. Your sister was always the sweet one. She'll give me what I need."

The line went dead.

Hanna wished she'd never called. Sometimes it was easier not knowing just how bad things were.