Two Bar Mitzvahs (No Weddings #3)(50)

As predicted, many of the women got a little drunk and a lot bold with our man-candy waiters, but Zach and his team kept matters all under control, handling issues with professionalism. But Bertrande surprised me. He didn’t chase after a single soul. Instead, he’d brought a date. And the two men only seemed to have eyes for each other. Good for Bertrande.

My other priority was making sure Hannah had a good time, distracted by the party or me—nothing else. And nervous excitement buzzed through me now that the party had gone autopilot enough for us to escape for a while.

After searching, I spotted her up on the patio. She sat slumped on a stool at the bar.

I slipped in behind her. “How you holding up?”

She straightened and turned into my arms, smiling wide. “I’m great. The cake was a hit. My feet? Not so much. These new shoes broke me in, not the other way around.” She dangled the four-inch heels by their ankle straps.

I watched Lisa fill up a tray with drink orders, dropping a colorful umbrella into the top of each glass. “Everything going smoothly? Need anything?”

She shook her head. “Nope. I’m good.”

A quick scan of the party confirmed all the guests had a drink or food. The tropical sound of steel drums played in the background. My parents and sisters were spread throughout the party, mingling with guests or relaxing.

Sunset was about an hour away, and I glanced down at Hannah. “Want to sneak away for a bit? I’ve got a surprise I want to show you.” Plus I needed some one-on-one connection time. My gut told me she did too. Slipping away at the home stretch of our parties had become an addictive habit of ours.

Her eyes widened, and she smiled. “That’s right. I forgot about that.”

I helped her off the barstool, but furrowed my brow as I stared at her bare feet. “Maybe we should run you upstairs for a change of shoes.”

“Nah, I can be barefoot for a while.”

I ushered her back into the abandoned kitchen, and she deposited her shoes under a chair in the corner. Her gaze locked onto the Viking gas stove. She gravitated toward it, then ran her fingers along the edge of the gleaming stainless steel.

“Nice stove.” Her voice held a breathy reverence.

“You act like you haven’t been in this kitchen before. You were in here yesterday afternoon and most of today.” The kitchen was almost quiet, the sounds of laughter and music muted. I smiled and leaned back on the far counter, bracing my hands on the edge as she swept her gaze around the kitchen.

She shrugged. “I know. But I didn’t have a spare moment to stop and admire anything, which was fine. I’m glad I spent the time bonding with your sisters and Mom.”

“And now?”

“Now that we’ve snuck away, I’m enjoying the scenery.” She gave me a slow smile. “The kitchen’s nice to look at too.”

“You’re the best thing to look at in here,” I retorted. “Gorgeous.” It took every ounce of willpower I had to remain rooted where I stood. Especially when my mind wandered, my gaze dropping down to the bottom of her dress, to the edge of those sexy-as-f*ck petticoats.

Her head tilted as she stepped closer. “You look a bit mischievous.”

I took a deep breath, tamping down the mischief. Then I shook my head and ushered her through the butler pantry. “Only looking forward to showing you my favorite parts of this house,” I hedged, lowering my voice. “Besides my bedroom, of course. Which after last night’s fireworks, has now rocketed to the top of the list.”

She blushed as we reached two doors at the end. I wrapped one arm around her waist and reached the other around her, opening the door on the left. I released my hold as a warm gust of humid air flowed against us.

She took two steps into the bright room and stopped. “Oh, how cool!”

I smiled at her instant reaction. “Thought you’d like this space.”

“What’s not to like?” she voiced under her breath.

Safety glass spanned up the walls and formed the vaulted ceiling of a large greenhouse.

Hannah walked forward. After a few steps, she spun in a slow circle, eyes wide as she took in every detail. “Who’s the gardener, your mom or dad?”

“Both.”

“Really? What a great treasure to share with each other.” Hannah glanced up at the glass ceiling, then down toward the tinted concrete floor. “What about winter and snow?”

“The glass is designed to withstand any type of weather. The room stays moderate all year with the constant flow of geothermal water through pipes imbedded into the concrete floor.” While she scanned the room, I gently placed my hands on her waist and steered her toward the far wall of the greenhouse.

We passed Mom’s colorful orchid collection as we approached a door at the end. Hannah glanced back and commented in the softest tone, “What a beautiful place.”

“Care for a tour of Dad’s toy collection?”

She nodded, her smile widening. “Absolutely.” As I reached for the doorknob, she pressed closer to me and brushed a kiss onto my cheek, “Thank you for being my tour guide.”

“Tour guide with benefits?”

Her cheeks flushed pink again, and I winked.

Clearing my throat, I opened the door and commented in my mimicked tour guide tone, “For a rare treat, you will find the toy collection of Mr. Garrett Michaelson. Please watch your step and keep your hands inside the ride at all times—unless, of course, you want to touch your tour guide.”