Hannah and the Hitman

Chapter 73

73

JACK

“I think we need a new place,” I said, finally getting the chance to look around Hannah’s apartment. We’d made it as far as her front door–the inside of it–before we got the needed bits of clothing off or open to have a hasty quickie.

I hoped Brittany and Dax had gone off for that dinner they’d talked about, otherwise they’d have heard the door banging from the… banging.

Hannah had gone into the bedroom to change, and I stood in the doorway to watch. Her closet was tiny, and not a walk-in. Her entire apartment was three rooms: living room/dining room/kitchen, bedroom, and bathroom. It was a newer building, well kept. Her space was bright and matched her feminine, soft demeanor. And the books. There were books everywhere. One whole wall of her living room was wall to wall shelves. There was a stack by her bed, on the bedside table. On top of the dresser .

This space couldn’t belong to anyone else.

She pushed her head through a green t-shirt and pulled it down over her torso. “Why?”

“I’m not saying I’m a snob and need a big, fancy space, but Pancake is.”

She bit her lip. “Oh really? What kind of place does Pancake like?”

“A house with a picket fence.”

Her eyes widened. “Really?”

“Oh yeah. He’s always wanted one.”

Her eyes softened.

“And this space… is it for three?” she asked. “Or two?”

“I’m not giving up Pancake even if he is a snooty bastard.”

I went to her, set my hands on her hips. I couldn’t not touch her, even though I had her only minutes earlier. “The we I mentioned, it’s you and me, gorgeous. Say yes.”

“To living with you?”

I shook my head. “To a life with me.”

My words had the wrong effect. She burst into tears.

“Oh shit. Okay, we don’t have to live together.”

She set her forehead against my chest, then shook it. “It’s not that. You got me the bookstore. We only met two weeks ago.”

I stroked her hair and forced her chin up so I could look in her watery eyes.

“As you can guess from my fancy suits, my fancy penthouse, my fancy SUV, and my extra fancy cat, I have a shit ton of money. It should be used for something good. And you’re good, Hannah Highcliff… someday Hollister.”

Her eyes widened. “Are you asking me to marry you? ”

I shook my head. “You’ll know when I’m asking, gorgeous. I guess what I’m doing, in a very bad way since I’ve never done it before, is to tell you I love you. Two weeks? I knew in two minutes.”

She started to cry again.

“Crying like that’s not good for a man’s ego,” I added, but I waited it out.

“You sound like a romance hero,” she said on a sob.

I huffed. “I’ll be any trope you want as long as I’m yours.”

“Oh my God, stop!” she wailed, then wiped her nose on my shirt. “But I don’t have money saved yet for the initial book orders and the renovation costs and–”

“What part of I have money is confusing?” It was simple. She wanted the bookstore I’d give her the bookstore.

“I can’t take your money!”

“Yes, you can.”

“Jack.”

“Hannah. If there’s something you want, it’s my job to give it to you.”

“Sure, maybe a necklace or a weekend in Aspen, but not a bookstore. ”

“Do you want a necklace or a weekend in Apsen?”

“No.”

“Then you’re getting a bookstore. And renovations. And books.”

“I’m paying you back.”

“Fine. I accept blowjobs and anal.”

Her mouth dropped open. “Oh my God.”

“I don’t understand why you’re upset. I should be the angry one.”

“You? Why?”

“My girl didn’t teleport like I told her to. I had to watch a mafia boss hold a gun to you. I jumped on a fucking trampoline to get to you.”

“See? My hero.” A watery laugh escaped. “I love you, too.”

I sighed, pulled her into my arms. This, right here, holding her, was everything. I’d been craving simple, but all I wanted was this. “Thank fuck.”

“You really want to live in Coal Springs with me? It’s fast. Crazy fast.”

I shrugged. “I think we know better than others that you never know what life is going to bring and you gotta take what you want.”

“I’m boring,” she said, as if that would deter me. It sounded like a perk.

“Good.”

“I would rather read than go out.”

“Me, too, it seems.”

She arched a brow and pulled out the big guns. “You’ll have to see my family.”

I shrugged again. She seemed to think her words would deter me. “I think there’s one thing that would solve everything with them.”

She stared at me, trying to figure out probably how I knew the answer. “Oh? What’s that?”

I grinned, kissed her soft lips, then said, “Make the fucking potato salad.”