Out Of The Blue (The Wrong Bed #12)(19)

It was killing it.

There had to be a better way, a way to have both a life and the job, but he couldn't imagine what that was.

That was fatigue talking, he figured.

"Isn't it?" she pressed, waiting for an answer. "Dangerous?"

"I'm careful," he said finally.

She snorted. "How careful can you be against a punk with a gun?"

"You worry about me," he said with some surprise.

"I worry about lots of things. I worry about the stray cat we have, I worry that the guests won't have enough towels, I worry that—"

"You worry about me."

She went still, then smiled. "Yes. I can't seem to help it. The worrying. Alexi starts it, and then it becomes contagious."

"I love my job, Hannah."

"I know."

He had to shake his head. "We can go on about this and get nowhere. It isn't what I want to know."

"No?"

"No."

Her face went guarded.

"We need to discuss it, Hannah. Last night." He didn't want to, he really didn't. "I won't be able to think about anything else until we do," he admitted.

That brought a new light to her expression. "Really?"

"Did you think I could just forget?" Before she could give him any answers, the door to the shop opened. Karrie came back in, craning her neck with curiosity. "Break's over," she called out. "Here I come, ready or not." Hannah blew a strand of hair out of her eyes and shot him a frustrated look. "The timing in my life, in case you hadn't noticed, is really, really off."

The strand of silky hair slipped back over her eye, and without thinking about it, or their audience, he gently tugged it back.

She went absolutely still as once again a simple touch seemed to rock both of their worlds. And this time, at least for him, it had nothing to do with the way she filled out her sundress, which happened to be incredible.

It had everything to do with Hannah the person. "We really need to talk," he said quietly.

She bit on her lower lip, but nodded. "I only have a few hours of work to do around here. Some inventory stuff. Then … I'm free for a little while."

Walk away. Don't get involved. And yet, he stroked a finger down past her ear, delighting in the shiver that wracked her. "You feel so soft." His thumb brushed her jaw and she let out a soft sigh.

It thrilled and terrified him at the same time, so he pulled back.

She smiled, a bit uncertainly, tugging at his heartstrings yet again, and he found himself returning the smile.

For reasons he didn't come close to understanding, he shifted forward again, meaning only to kiss her cheek once before he left. Except she shifted at the same time, turning her face toward his.

And their lips met.

It was brief, but so warm and innocent. So incredibly right, and filled with unbearable yearning.

Slowly, he straightened.

They stared at each other.

Zach had no idea what it meant, but given her doe-caught-in-the-headlights look, Hannah didn't know, any more than he did. It was the sort of kiss he wasn't likely to forget.

He doubted she would, either.





* * *





Chapter 7


? ^ ?

The lodge was busy. Summer was in full swing, and as a result, it was more than a few hours before Hannah managed to come up for air.

It hadn't helped that Karrie came down with some sort of flu, turning the same shade of green as her hair, which left Hannah facing the dessert crowd by herself.

It happened to be her specialty, mostly because she loved to eat it. On a normal day, she would have enjoyed serving, enjoyed chatting. She loved to talk to their visitors, learning about them and where they came from.

But today wasn't normal.

Today she had something to do when she was finished, something that wasn't just another chore or more work. Today she had Zach waiting for her, waiting for answers, maybe waiting for more than answers, which is what she'd wanted.

But the reality of it so unnerved her she ate two ice-cream sandwiches.

She had to remember, no matter what happened, that this was just a temporary interlude for Zach, one he'd probably remember with fondness as he went back to his adventurous, exciting life, but he would go back.

As if she'd summoned him, he appeared outside the window of the shop, carrying a surfboard and heading toward the beach.

She didn't let herself appease her curiosity by plastering her nose to the full picture window on the side of the shop that faced the beach.

Much.

Near the water, he stripped off his sweatshirt, then his pants, too, leaving him in nothing but swim trunks that clung to his body like a glove.

Had he said he was out of shape? she wondered, pressed up against the window. Not possible, not with that powerful, sleek build. Clearly favoring his right side, he waded into the water and put the board to good use.

"Who are you watching?"

Hannah bumped her nose on the glass. "Nobody. Nothing," she said, turning as casually as she could to face Tara.

"Uh-huh." Tara grabbed a bowl and helped herself to a triple scoop of Fudge Ripple. "Which is why, of course, you're blushing."

Hannah cursed her fair skin as Tara proceeded to top her dessert with whipped cream. "I always blush."