Two Bar Mitzvahs (No Weddings #3)(2)

She pressed her hands on my chest, pushing back from my hold. “Who called?”

Not giving up on it, then. I sighed. “A few people.”

“Like?”

“Ben. Reminding me of today’s meeting.”

“And?”

“Kristen. About some issue she’s dealing with.”

“And that made you mad?”

I released her and took a step back. “No.”

She crossed her arms over her chest. “Why won’t you tell me? I thought we were past keeping things from each other.” Her eyes darkened.

I blew out a breath. “We are. Damn, Hannah. I didn’t want to ruin this morning for you. Our first morning waking up together should be free of shit from our past.”

Her brows raised. “Shit from your past called?”

I gave her a brief nod. “Selfish Bitch, to be exact.” Never ceased to amaze me how fitting the nickname was that Hannah had given my ex. Or how damn good it felt to say it. A benefit from the cleansing bonfire therapy a few months ago after I’d dubbed hers Dumbf*ck.

Hannah gasped. “What did she say? What did she want?”

I shrugged. “Not much. She wants to get together to talk.”

A hurt expression crossed over her face. “And do you want to? Are you going to?”

Her pained look killed me. “No. I don’t. And I’m not. Now do you see why I didn’t want to tell you? I’ve ruined our first real date.”

She shook her head, the harsh lines in her forehead softening. “No, Cade. You didn’t ruin anything. But please, don’t keep things from me.” On a shaky inhale, she stepped into my arms again. “With the betrayal from my past, and with how you suffered from yours, we’re both damaged when it comes to trust.”

I brushed her hair out of her face. “I’m sorry.” My gut instinct had me wanting to deal with Madison on my own, protecting Hannah. “I know we’re f*cked up with those issues. I hesitated because last night and this morning was amazing. I was angry that she’d called. That I hadn’t turned my damned phone off. That my reaction upset you. Ruined our morning, at the very least.”

She gave me a gentle smile. “No not ruined. Remember our first first date? The one I thought was a disaster? That I was convinced I’d ruined?”

“You didn’t ruin it. And it wasn’t a disaster.” Had she been a little nervous? Yeah. And way too much in her head about her ex—nothing a little on-the-spot fantasizing and a few sessions of professional therapy hadn’t been able solve.

“Semi-disaster,” she countered. “And you’re missing my point.”

“That I’ve only semi-ruined it?”

She slapped my chest. “No. What did you do to get me out of my head?”

“Got you to think of a happy place.”

“And what did I picture?”

I grinned. “A field of cupcakes. With me naked. Covered in icing.”

With slow steps, she walked backward. “Icing can be sticky. We’re sticky right now.”

“From mind-blowing sex.” I stalked after her, matching her step-by-step. I definitely liked the direction she was headed.

“So do you think maybe we can go to a happy place here in my bathroom? I’m sticky. You’re sticky. We both have to go into work clean, don’t we?” She bit her lip as she stepped into her shower and turned on the spray.

I growled low, following her in. “I love your idea of therapy.”

Hair slicked back, she stepped out from under the water and grabbed a shampoo bottle. “Good. Because therapy is about to get very hands on.”

I stepped under the spray and did my best to block out the negative vibe from my ex. Hannah caught my gaze and held it. Doubt reflected back at me for a split second, like she’d read my mind, could see my struggle to get settled back into us. But then she tilted her head, gave me another sexy smile, and wrapped a soapy hand around the tip of my cock.

I groaned, leaning into her hold as her hand slipped from tip to base. Her face tilted up as I closed my eyes. Soft lips pressed against mine.

I gave myself over to her touch, her kiss. Relief washed through me. Her medicine, her kind of therapy, helped to fade the image of the earlier look of hurt in her eyes. I didn’t want her to worry. I needed her trust. Needed her.





2


Caught Off Guard


After a shower that rivaled all others, we stood in Hannah’s kitchen. She tapped her fingers on the chrome coffee maker as it dripped into the carafe. Drawn to her, unable to keep my hands to myself, I pulled her into my arms. She smiled, and I bent down, kissing the top of her head. “Damn, you smell good.”

She gave out a soft laugh. “You smell like coconut mango too. Just…in a manly way.”

I grunted. “Tropical is never manly. I need to bring over guy shampoo.”

Over her head, I gazed out her windows. The sides of the white tent we’d left in her backyard rippled in the wind. “You okay with leaving that stuff out there for now?” Last night, my sisters pulled through for me in setting up the perfect date for us. Iced wine. Candles everywhere. A tent with a luxurious bed inside.

Hannah turned in my arms, following my gaze. “What’s that bright color by the corner of the tent?”