Hannah and the Hitman

Chapter 12

12

HANNAH

I had no idea why Jack hadn’t bolted for the door yet. Not only was my family being their finest, obnoxious selves, but the burgers were so well done they were practically hockey pucks.

We were in the dining room and settled around a checkered cloth covered table. On it were hamburgers, corn, baked beans, pickles, and chips. On my left was Jack. Across from me was Briana. Beside her, Perry. Flanking the ends of the table were my parents.

In the ten minutes I’d been nudging the food around on my plate, we’d been subjected to Briana’s and Perry’s endless chatter. Jack’s attention shifted from sibling to sibling but was more focused on the mounted cow head that hung on the wall over the side table. It was Curtis the Cow. Curtis had been put up when I was a kid and Perry had named it. He’d named the other animals, too, but I didn’t remember any others.

“...three years ago, I transitioned to the trampoline when my coach felt that I couldn’t make the Olympic squad for gymnastics. Beam was where I excelled. I have excellent balance. And flexibility.”

After giving Jack another wink, Briana grabbed her hamburger and took a healthy bite.

“...then I reminded my congregation that gluttony was a sin,” Perry spouted while Briana’s mouth was full. He reached for the baked beans and scooped a pile onto his plate beside his second burger, two eaten cobs of corn and three pickles. “We must all be cautious in our indulgences.”

“At first, I was doing pike jumps but now I’m doing full-in full-out, double back somersault with full twist in the first somersault and another full twist in the second somersault which I think will get me to the next Olympic trials. I could show you after dinner if you like.” Briana took a swig from her can of soda. Her high ponytail bounced to a beat she only heard through an ear pod she had tucked into her left ear. She spoke so fast her backup career could be an auctioneer.

“The second week of the volunteer weed removal program has been a success,” Perry shared. “We’ve pulled in those in need from the homeless shelter to assist and offer water and snacks after the three-hour highway cleanup.” He shoveled in a huge bite of beans.

While they took us on two very different ego trips, Jack sat quiet. He somehow ate a burger–with many sips of accompanying iced tea to get it down–and a bunch of chips. His plate was clean. All the while, Dad had made it through his second pour from his pitcher, only sloshing a little over the side. Mom kept eyeing Jack with suspicion.

“All I asked was for the potato salad,” Mom muttered when Briana and Perry took bites of their burgers at the same time.

This again?

“You told me about the dinner less than three hours ago. When I was at work,” I replied.

“You could have picked up some at the store like I asked.”

I could’ve, but having Jack show up at work had fried my brain. The good news? Jack wasn’t a stalker. Not a chance in hell.

No stalker would subject themselves to this dinner. They’d have given up and moved onto someone else.

No, he was here for a different reason, and it wasn’t to hack me into bits with an ax.

Had he been serious, thinking I was sexy and fun and that he had thoughts about railing me over the back of a couch? I really, really wanted that. It had to be true, because again, this nightmare.

“I hate when we serve chips for dinner,” Mom continued bitterly. “This memory problem isn’t still lingering from your surgery, is it?”

I could feel my cheeks practically catch fire as Jack’s head whipped my way and his eyes burned into the side of my face. The last thing I wanted to do was to have Jack think even less of me. Bookworm. Overweight. Librarian. Crazy family. Defective brain .

I bit my lip, knowing an outburst would do nothing but have Dad drink more, Mom dig her heels into her potato salad snit, and have my brother think I was slothful–one of the deadly sins along with lustful.

“No issues,” I said, flicking my gaze at Jack for a second and offering him a fake smile that quickly slipped away.

“Listen to your mother next time, Hannah,” Dad added, waving his drink hand in the air, sloshing some liquid onto the table.

I was so frustrated and embarrassed. Angry, too. Brittany had come a few times for dinner, but had bailed on the concept, telling me she’d rather have a pap smear.

“It was my fault,” Jack admitted. His hand settled on my thigh, but static electricity had him yanking his palm away for a second. His eyes widened in surprise, then gave my leg a gentle squeeze. “The missing potato salad.”

He winked, one that was far sexier than the ones Briana was giving him across the table. I felt his touch, but I also felt the reassurance that came with it.

Why was he throwing himself under the bus for me? Why did I find that so incredibly hot?

Everyone was quiet–miracle of miracles–waiting for him to say more, although Perry reached for another ear of corn.

“I turned her head,” Jack admitted. He removed his hand from my leg and set it along the back of my chair. It was a more visible sign of solidarity. The hair on the back of my neck rose in response. What was it about my body reacting to him? “Obviously.”

Or ego. God, he was worse than all of them.

“She doesn’t need her head turned. She’s already got her head in the clouds with those books she reads,” Mom said with a haughty sniff. “And she thinks people will come to a bookstore that caters to… that if she opens one.”

Oh my God, I wanted to die of mortification. Jack knew all about my reading habits, knew one of the stories… intimately.

“You mean fiction?” Jack asked.

Perry huffed, a gluttonous forkful of beans just shy of his mouth. “ Fiction is dangerous. Wild imaginings. Impossible dreams. And when the content is pornographic…”

“‘He shall lie all night between my breasts–’” Jack murmured.

“See? Pornography!” Perry said, pointing at Jack.

Briana eye fucked my date and murmured, “He can lie all night between my breasts.”

“Stop your smoting,” Jack replied, holding his hand up. “That’s in the Bible. Song of Solomon, I believe.”

Perry opened his mouth, then snapped it shut.

I bit my lip, never having seen him shut down like that before. I wasn’t sure if I should be impressed or scared Jack was out Bible versing my church-leading brother. I couldn’t remember a time when anyone put Perry in his place.

“You a man of the Lord, Jack?” Dad asked. “You a preacher?”

“That would explain the suit,” Mom added, eyeing Jack critically.

I picked up my tea, took a sip.

“Mortician.”

I spit it out in a spray across half the table.

My family started talking at once .

I slapped my hands down on the table, making the burger platter jump. Stood.

“He said mortician, not murderer!” I shouted.

My family was rude and awful. I’d handled it fine when it was only me. Used to it. Expected it even. But they were doing this in front of a man. Sure, he was a stranger, but I brought him. Liked him.

They could fuck with me, but not Jack.

I ran for the powder room off the hall. I grabbed the knob, pulled and ripped the door right off the hinges.

“What the hell?” I muttered, staring at the door. I leaned it against the wall at a slant, then went into the powder room, letting the door fall shut behind me.

Five seconds later, Jack joined me. I whipped around away from the sink. Thank God I hadn’t pulled my pants down to pee.

“What’s the deal with the door?” he asked, studying how it had come off the hinges.

I shrugged. I was somehow ridiculously strong all of a sudden? I’d hefted that book box and now this? He wouldn’t believe it–because I didn’t–so I said, “Termites?”

He shifted his attention from the broken door to me. The ceiling was sloped since the room was tucked beneath the stairs. It was definitely a one-person space and it forced Jack to stand close to me. Very, very close. If I took a deep breath, my breasts would bump his suit. I felt the familiar charge being this close to him. Was this normal when attraction was this potent?

I recognized his male scent from the airplane. It wasn’t potent cologne, but something dark and manly. It didn’t make me sneeze like irritating scents did. In fact, it made me want to lean in and sniff him, which would make me weirder than Perry and Briana combined.

“Please tell me you’re not a mortician,” I said before he could comment on my family. The suits and the Bible verses made it a possibility. I had nothing against the profession, but… yeah, dead bodies.

“Please tell me you’re adopted,” he countered.

I flung my hands in the air and chuckled, although it was more from mortification than humor. “I told you!”

“And what’s the story with all the dead animals?” He tipped his chin toward the squirrel on the wall above the mirror. It was standing on its hind legs on a wooden base, front little arms raised as if to attack. It’d been there for as long as I could remember and never noticed it anymore.

“My dad’s a taxidermist,” I explained. “When people don’t claim their projects, he puts them up around the house. Fun, right?”

He frowned, studied me. I wasn’t sure if he was eyeing me closely to see if I might turn crazy like my family. The chances were high. “What’s this surgery you had and why did it affect your memory?”

Oh. That.

I waved it off. I wasn’t going to tell him I had a brain tumor while we stood in my parents’ powder room. “I had a little problem with my brain a few months ago.”

His eyes widened, then roved over my face. “Jesus. Are you okay?”

I felt his concern in the same electrical charge between us.

Now that I had gamma knife radiation to zap a brain tumor, yes. Instead of saying that aloud and have him decide to take my sister up on her undressing offer, I nodded.

He sighed, ran a hand along the back of his neck. “I need to get the hell out of here.”

Oh.

I knew it. Of course, he was leaving.

My heart dropped. I didn’t blame him one bit. In fact, he made it a lot longer than I anticipated. Who wanted to be with a woman who had crazy running rampant in her gene pool, as well as brain tumors? I didn’t know how excited I was about him until now, when it was over.

Over? What a silly thought. It hadn’t even begun. At least he was honest and hadn’t cheated on me.

“Right,” I said, glancing at the wood floor. I didn’t want to look at his gorgeous face any more than I had to. Not when he was leaving, and I’d never see him again. “I understand. Um… go ahead and I’ll tell my family you left because you got called out for a dead body or something.”

His body tensed, which had me looking up. He was frowning, his look almost startled. “What? A dead body? Why would you say that?”

“Mortician,” I reminded.

He sighed, almost relieved. “No. No dead body.” He pulled it his cell from his pocket, read the display. He must’ve had it set to vibrate. The change was slight, but I noticed the way his face closed off. It was as if he’d become a different person. As if he’d showed me a certain side of himself. “I have to go.”

I nodded. He’d already said that.

“Do you have your phone on you?” he asked .

I shook my head. It was in my purse on the kitchen counter.

“What’s your number?”

I told him and he typed it into his cell with his dexterous thumbs. The phone chimed again. He took a second to read whatever the next text was, then his dark eyes met mine. Held. “I’ll call you.”

Then he was gone.