The Perfect Secret

Chapter Eight

“Was I right or was I right, Dad?”

“I don’t know what you mean.” He tried to maintain a straight face, but thought she noticed the strangled sound of his voice as he tried not to laugh.

After finding food—hero sandwiches, sodas, and chips—they ate their lunch at the same set of tables and chairs where he’d rested. Hannah and Tess told Dan about their time together; the rapport they were building warmed him inside. Now, as they checked out the last of the vendors, he linked arms with Tess as Hannah rushed ahead to check out a vintage dealer.

“Yes, you were right,” he said. “I’m glad you got a chance to meet.”

She shoved him playfully with her hip so he turned to her, one eyebrow raised. “Really?”

Biting her lip between her teeth, she reminded him of when she was five, and the way she looked at him when she wanted something, brown eyes like chocolate coins seeming to fill her entire face. Beth had always been able to resist, but not him. Never him. He staggered as the memory swamped him.

“Did I hurt you, Daddy? I didn’t mean to.”

Giving her a quick squeeze, he shook his head. “You? Hurt me? That could never happen, kiddo. Promise.”

She unlinked her arm from his and walked to Hannah. By the time he caught up with them, they were deep in conversation. They pulled apart and Tess giggled.

“What did I miss?”

“Oh…nothing,” Tess said.

Girls were so secretive.

Hannah grabbed his hand. She was soft and warm and…to hell with Tess’s admonition, he wanted to kiss his girlfriend. He tipped his head and pressed his lips against hers. She tasted fruity. Hoping she could read his desire in his expression, he pulled away to look into her face.

“Eww,” Tess said. With a toss of her hair, she moved on to the next vendor.

Hannah’s eyes twinkled. “Tess and I bonded, don’t worry.”

“I’m not,” he said. “I figure as long as you don’t say eww every time I kiss you, or roll your eyes, we’re good. Are you finished looking around here?”

“Leg hurt?”

She’d never been this direct before. Breathe, he told himself. It’s a natural question. He was rusty because other than Tess, no one talked about his leg. “Yeah, some, but don’t stop because of me.”

“I’m not. If there was something I really wanted to search for, I’d suggest you sit and wait for me. But I’m good. As long as Tess is ready to go, we can leave anytime.”

He pulled her into a hug and inhaled the scent of her auburn hair. He believed the scent of her could melt away all his pain. “As long as I’m with you, I don’t care where we are. Tess, are you ready yet?”

Tess sauntered over and frowned at his arm around Hannah’s shoulders. “I guess so.”

“Great, let’s go to my apartment,” Hannah said.

She stayed pressed against his side as they walked to the car. He wasn’t sure if she did it because she wanted to be close to him, or if she was giving him something to lean on. If he were honest with himself, he’d admit he leaned on her a little. But he wouldn’t analyze it. Her touch was heaven. Her fingers curled through his belt loop and stroked his side, her hair tickled his neck. There was no way he would say anything to push her away, even if Tess thought it was gross.

He was curious to see her apartment. Knowing she lived with her grandmother, he wanted to get a glimpse of Hannah, the granddaughter, even if the grandmother wasn’t home. Would it be an old-lady apartment that Hannah inhabited, or did Hannah leave her mark on it?

Neither talked much about their families. They both had pasts they kept close to the vest.

“Come on in.” Hannah unlocked the door. “Make yourselves at home. The bathroom is down the hall if anyone wants to freshen up.”

Dan nodded to Tess as she went in search of it. A green fuzzy-looking sofa, obviously from her grandmother’s era, was modernized with up-to-date geometric pillows in green, blue, and copper. Two comfortable-looking beige chairs sat on either side of an end table with a lamp that made him do a double-take—it was a woman’s leg in a black high-heeled pump with a black lace and bead lampshade. Obviously, hopefully, Hannah’s influence. A beige and black carpet was soft under his feet and lots of books and photos lined shelves and were scattered around the room. The photos interested him the most.

“Those are my parents on their honeymoon in Mexico.” Hannah rubbed his back. “Those are my brothers at my college graduation and those are my nieces and nephews last summer.”

She didn’t specify which brother was the drug addict and he didn’t ask. Not now, when Tess was coming down the hall.

“So what should we watch first? Your choice, Tess.” Hannah offered drinks and popcorn.

She handed the remote to Tess, who scrolled through the streaming services. “Oh, this one looks good.” She highlighted “Breakfast Club.”

Dan turned to Hannah. “Are you okay with it?”

Hannah nodded; they started the movie. Tess sprawled on the floor, phone in hand, leaving Dan and Hannah the couch. Dan sank into it and stifled a groan.

“Need anything?” Hannah asked, her voice low, as she sat next to him. “Tylenol? Ibuprofen?”

Need anything? So many, many things. He swallowed. What he wouldn’t give to accept painkillers, even over-the-counter ones. “Ice, if you have some.”

She stared at him for a moment, rose and went into the kitchen.

Damn, he should have said, “you.” But he wasn’t sure what she meant and he couldn’t take it back. She came back with an ice pack, and he waited for her to hand it to him.

“Where’s the best place to put it?” Her eyes twinkled and the constriction in his chest eased.

He guided her hand to right above his knee. His hand covered hers, rough over smooth, warm on top of cold.

“Is this better?” she asked, her voice a whisper.

With a nod, he leaned against the cushions, drawing her to him so she rested against his shoulder, her hand on his thigh, above the ice pack. His muscle twitched. He couldn’t tell if she touched him out of sympathy or a desire to heal him. Maybe she touched him because she liked him. And with Tess sitting six feet in front of them, he couldn’t ask.

When she stroked his leg, it was the first time in seven years he found it enjoyable. Probably due to the fact she didn’t wear a white coat or carry a stethoscope.

He liked touching her. For the past five minutes, his arm had been around her, his hand stroking her shoulder. He played with her hair, whose silkiness and array of color—various shades of reds, browns, and gold—delighted him. But she didn’t have an injury she tried to avoid discussing. And he would look like a fool if he assumed she touched him because she wanted to, and it turned out she pitied him.

He clenched his jaw. Dammit, he was too old to be this unsure of women.

“You two finished with your smexy times?” Tess half-turned to them, her hand over her eyes. Dan wasn’t sure who was more mortified, he or Hannah. Hannah was a deep shade of red, which he found adorable. A suspicious heat flooded his face.

“Focus on the movie.” He reached for Hannah. “We’re getting a drink of water.”

He hoped the movie continued for longer than its hour and a half run time as he led her down the hall, ignoring the kitchen. She opened a door and pulled him into a bedroom. Perching on the end of the bed, one hand clenched in a fist, she watched him.

He cleared his throat. “Would it be a stupid question for me to ask you why you were touching my bad leg?”

“People always say there’s no such thing as a stupid question. However, they obviously hang out with a different set of people than I do.”

He chuckled and sat next to her. “So is that a yes?”

“How about it’s a maybe, until you tell me what you’re thinking.”

“I think I don’t know if you’re touching me because you’re attracted to me or because you want to fix me.”

“I didn’t know you were broken.”

“And I didn’t know you avoided questions so well.”

She ducked her head. “Sorry.” She shifted away from him and sat sideways, cross-legged on the bed. “I’m touching you because I like you. I’ll admit I was careful so as not to hurt—”

He stopped further conversation by pulling her against him and kissing her. She liked him. It was all he needed to hear. Her mouth was soft and alluring. Relief and desire mingled as the kiss lengthened. He wanted to taste every part of her, but Tess was in the other room. As if she’d read his mind, she sighed and he dragged his mouth away.

Her mouth was irresistible. It looked delicious and he ran his fingers over her lips, along her jaw, and through her hair, drawing her close. Forehead to forehead, he slowed his breathing.

“I hope that answers your question,” she said with a whisper.

“I think I should ask more of them, if that’s the answer I get.”

“I’ve never been the one reluctant to answer questions.”

He reared back. “What do you want to know?”

She bit her lip. “Lots of things, but Tess is in the other room, and I don’t want to make her feel left out.”

He pulled her close and kissed her forehead. “I love how you care about my daughter’s feelings. Let’s go back and join her. We can talk later.”

When the movie ended, Tess picked up her phone and texted with great speed. Dan shifted uncomfortably in the chair, and for once it wasn’t due to his leg.

Tess came to him. “Dad, Lexi’s having a crisis and wants me to come over. I know I’m supposed to spend the time with you and Hannah, but do you think she’d mind?”

Hannah glanced over her shoulder at them as she walked toward the kitchen. “I know I shouldn’t eavesdrop, but I wouldn’t mind, if it’s what you want. You’re more than welcome to stay for dinner, or leave to be with your friends. Either way is fine with me.”

Tess looked between Dan and Hannah. “Are you sure?”

He swallowed. A few minutes ago he’d wished Tess wasn’t here and now, his wish was answered. Was it okay to accept it? What kind of father wanted his daughter to leave? Did he do his duty and force Tess to stay, with the chance of making her resent his relationship with Hannah, or did he follow his heart and allow her to go? Once again, the big brown eyes won out. “I’m okay with it as long as Hannah is. And as long as Lexi’s parents are home.” It was one evening. It would be okay.

Tess started to roll her eyes, but a look from Dan stopped it. “Thank you, both!” she said.

Hannah came over. “I enjoyed spending the day with you.”

Tess hugged her, and Dan saw the shock and pleasure in Hannah’s expression as she returned the hug.

“Bye, Dad. I’ll be home by ten.” She waved.

Before she left the apartment, Dan yelled, “Don’t forget to text when you get there!”

“So, dinner for two.” Hannah turned toward Dan as he approached.

He pulled her into his arms, his lips met hers and he gave in to all the desires he’d withheld in front of his daughter. His hands slid through her hair, massaging her scalp and when she opened her mouth, he slipped his tongue inside. She tasted sweet and he sighed against her mouth. “I hope Tess leaving doesn’t cause you a problem.”

She pressed her breasts into his chest, her hands sliding around and cupping his ass. “Not at all.”

God, he wanted her. Leaning against the counter, he spread his legs, pulling her between them. She moaned, or maybe he did. He couldn’t tell beyond the rushing in his ears.

The rushing transformed into a buzzing, and he pulled away, heavy-lidded and aching.

Hannah took a step back. “The oven is preheated.”

“What can I do to help?”

“Um…” She spun in slow motion.

“Well, let’s start with what are you making?” he asked.

“London broil, roasted vegetables, and bread.”

“Okay, do you need help chopping?”

“No, I’m good.”

She set the broiler, slid the meat inside, and moved on to the vegetables. She’d said she wasn’t much of a cook, but she seemed pretty comfortable in the kitchen. When she finished, she pulled a stool from under the sink, stood on it, and disconnected the smoke alarm.

“What did you do that for?” he asked.

She turned on the faucet and washed her hands. “Well, in case I misjudge the broiling…”

He laughed and handed her a dishtowel. “Should I be worried?”

“Probably a bad idea for me to say anything other than no. Now, what would you like to drink? I have wine, beer, soda?”

His mouth grew dry at the thought of taking a long pull on a frosty brew and he swallowed reflexively. Never again. “I’ll have water.”

“So, you don’t drink, right? I mean, it’s the feeling I get from you.”

His stomach clenched. Please don’t let this line of questioning force my hand, not now. “I don’t mind if you do.” He reached for the napkins and silverware and followed her lead, hoping she’d drop the subject, although they were getting closer and closer to a time when he’d have to answer.

She smiled as she set the table. “Is there a reason for you not drinking?”

Dammit. His gut tightened. “Family history.”

“Got it.” She nodded.

No, she didn’t have a clue, but he wouldn’t debate the point with her.

Returning to the oven, she turned the meat and uncovered the vegetables. The aromas made his mouth water. Despite her concerns, no smoke billowed.

“Since you ordered the peach dessert the other night, I bought a peach and plum cobbler for tonight. I assumed you weren’t a chocolate person.”

Another assumption she shouldn’t make—he liked chocolate too much to allow himself to have it—but an assumption he couldn’t correct without starting an avalanche of other questions. “It sounds delicious. But you should have said something. I would have been happy to provide dessert.”

“Don’t worry about it. You can take leftovers home for Tess.” She pulled everything out of the oven. “It must be hard to balance things.”

It was. “Do you want me to slice the meat?”

As he began, he admired the cut of the meat and the meal in general. She was a good cook, if looks were to be believed. “Excellent job. It’s delicious.”

“Thanks. It’s my grandma’s recipe. She’s a wonderful cook.”

“It’s obvious you take after her. You didn’t even have to disconnect the smoke alarm!”

Hannah let out a deep breath as she brought everything to the table. “Previous history indicated otherwise. My grandmother, although supportive, is not convinced I won’t starve you tonight. I think she told me ten times how to cook everything.”

He savored the flavor of the London broil and looked around the dining room. It was a nook off the kitchen, nothing fancy, but homey. A sideboard held Shabbat candles and some China serving pieces. On white walls hung a Chagall print and an old-fashioned wedding portrait. He pointed to it with his fork.

“Your grandparents?”

Hannah nodded. “Yes, I love that one. They were married forty-five years. What about you? How long were you married?”

The meat formed rocks in his stomach. He didn’t want to have this conversation. “Ten years.”

“Tess said you hurt your leg in the car accident when you lost your wife.”

His fork clattered to the table. “You talked to Tess about this?”

“It came up in conversation.”

He pushed his chair back and ignored the shooting pain running up and down his leg from the sudden movement. “You pumped my daughter for information while the two of you were alone?”

Hannah’s eyes widened. Her hands clamped her silverware hard enough for Dan to see her knuckles whiten. “Whoa, wait a second. I didn’t pump her for information.”

He rose, nostrils flared. His heart beat hard, and spots formed behind his eyes. “What, she told you the information out of the blue?”

Hannah stood and leaned toward him, but he backed away. He didn’t want to be near her right now. What else did she know?

“It wasn’t out of the blue. Tess asked me about my family. I told her my parents divorced, and my mom died a few years ago. Tess said hers did too, which I knew. She mentioned, on her own, you hurt your leg in the accident, which you hinted at earlier. There was no pumping for information.”

Her air quotes would have been cute if he weren’t angry and he paced from the dining table to the sofa and back again, trying to fill his lungs with air, while ignoring the pain in his leg. He didn’t know how to get out of this argument without talking about things he didn’t want to discuss with her. Things he couldn’t discuss with her, given what he knew about her brother.

He stopped next to his seat. Her cheeks were red, her neck splotchy. She was angry too. Somehow, knowing her emotions helped cool his anger and allowed rational thought in. Analyzing what she’d said, he realized maybe it wasn’t as much of a problem as he thought. She knew when it happened. Big deal. He rubbed the back of his head. “Yeah, I may have overreacted just now.”

As the words exited his mouth, it was apparent that was the wrong thing to say. If her eyes could shoot lasers, he would duck.

“You think? Don’t get me started on the Fort Knox storing your personal information.” She pushed past him into the living room. “We’ve dated for almost three weeks and I know next to nothing about you. You clam up every time I start to get close. You freak out at the thought of Tess telling me anything.” She stood in his personal space and dared him to avoid her gaze. “You’re my boyfriend. What is the point of my getting to know your daughter if you won’t let me know you?”

She was furious and she was beautiful. Her chest heaved, drawing attention to her cleavage, framed by the dark blue V-neck sweater that hugged her curves. Her creamy skin—other than her neck, which was mottled from emotion—glowed. Not that he wanted to make her angry, but, man, she was amazing when she was.

She was also right.

It was that thought which made him swallow. He needed to move forward with care. Because he sensed this was a turning point. He had a choice to make and he’d better choose wisely. He was her boyfriend, which made her his girlfriend. His girlfriend deserved answers. “You’re right.”

Those two words acted like a pin touching an over-inflated balloon. Her anger disappeared. A part of him was sorry to see it go.

“What would you like to know?” He lowered himself into the chair. His anxiety rose as he gripped the edge of the table, waiting for her response. He’d meant the question, but it was a big one, filled with many possible scenarios.

“Tell me about your wife.” He must have shown his sorrow, because she followed up quickly. “I don’t mean the painful parts, but there must be something you can tell me—what you loved about her, what kind of mom she was, her favorite color. I need something to make her human, otherwise she’s this fantastical being I can never hope to come close to.”

Of course. If the roles were reversed, he’d want the same thing. “I don’t need you to be like her. I like you as you are.”

Memories flooded through him. Hannah and the apartment disappeared, replaced by scenes from his old life. “We met in college—UMass.” In his mind, he envisioned the campus, the rolling hills surrounding it, the college town nearby. “She was a film major and I was an accounting major. We met at a party one night and were together from then on. She was sweet with a typical artist personality. She doted on Tess. She was a terrible cook. I mean, burned-water bad.”

“So that’s why you’re a good one?”

A weight lifted from his chest as he remembered the first time Beth cooked for him—smoky apartment, charred food, nervous smiles, tears. “I didn’t like the idea of starvation—it’s a painful way to go.”

“Yeah, I’ve heard that.”

He reached for her hand. It was soft and smooth and grounded him in the present. “What else do you want to know?”

“Would you tell me about the accident? I can’t keep feeling like I have to tiptoe around every possible mention of it.”

He didn’t realize his hand was clenched until she started to massage it. God, if he’d hurt her…but he hadn’t. He blinked and loosened his grip. “It was a drunk driver. We drove through an intersection and he t-boned us. On Beth’s side. I was driving.” He closed his eyes, images of the crash flashing through his mind, sounds of squealing tires, crumpling metal and shattering glass piercing his eardrums.

“I’m sorry.”

“Me too.”

“And your leg?”

“Shattered in six places, held together by screws, plates and a lot of luck.” Smells of the hospital replaced the garlicky scent of the London broil and he wrinkled his nose. “I didn’t mean to make you feel the way you did. I get focused on moving forward and I don’t like to dwell on the past. But I know you need information—”

“It’s not information as much as I need to know you. Yes, the information helps, but it’s also the intangible stuff I need.”

He pulled her close. She leaned against him and rested against his chest. She was warm in his arms and he nuzzled her hair. “Boyfriend, huh?” he asked.

She angled back to look at him. “Does the word bother you?”

“No,” he said. “I like it. And I like the sound of girlfriend too.”

He sat with her snuggled against him awkwardly at the table, the rest of their food untouched, feeling more comfortable than he had in a long time. For now, he was safe. But in the back of his mind, worry niggled. His safety net was wearing thin.