Wallflower (Whittaker Floral #2)

25. Hannah

25

HANNAH

D eck was at my apartment door at 5:30 Tuesday night, and he wrapped his arms around me, kissing me deeply. I pulled my head back, “When’s the next home game?” I asked.

He loosened his grip, but kept his hands on my waist. “Saturday, why?”

“Do you have to be here doing work between now and then?”

He shrugged. “Not really. What’s up?”

I grinned. “Let’s grab your stuff tonight and leave town. You said you wanted to see more of the midwest, right?”

His face split into a big smile. “Yes, I’d love that. Do you have somewhere in mind?” His brow furrowed. “You have to work on Thursday, though, don’t you?”

My grin grew even larger, and I pulled him in the door and upstairs. “We don’t have a lot of clients this week. Usually someone takes off when it’s like this, sometimes Elizabeth and Matty even see if everyone wants off, if we have a cancellation. So I could be off until next Thursday, actually.”

We’d entered the apartment, and he grabbed me by the waist again, turning me back to face him. “You had a cancellation?”

“Yep. I can’t say too much—we actually sign NDAs, believe it or not—but our big wedding was cancelled this week.” My voice lowered to a whisper, despite the fact that we were in my apartment. “I think the groom was caught cheating.”

Declan grunted. “And his cheating means you get the week off?”

I shrugged. “More or less. It’s mine if I want to take it.” I cocked my head, trying to read his expression, but I couldn’t decipher it. “Do you not want to go?”

He pulled me closer. “Of course I want to go. Where is it we’re going?”

“Well, if it’s okay with you, I booked us a cabin up near Door County tonight, Wednesday, and Thursday. We can pick up your stuff, grab some dinner, and drive there tonight. We’ll be tired, but then we can sleep in and have as much time as we want tomorrow.”

“That sounds amazing, Han.” He paused, his forehead creasing. “What is Door County?”

I laughed. “It’s like…a vacation spot. In Wisconsin,” I added. “You know, one of those places you go to see the woods…” I trailed off, shrugging as I said, “and lighthouses and shit. I haven’t actually been there, clearly, but Matty says it’s pretty.” Declan looked agreeable, but he still held me pressed close. “It’s also a four-hour drive, so we should get going.” I grinned at him, but he frowned.

“What about Truman? Where is he?”

“Look at you, all best buddies now,” I said, setting a hand on his cheek affectionately. “When George came by last week he was talking about how much he missed having a dog, so I called him and asked him to dog-sit for the next three days. He was thrilled.”

Declan drove my old Toyota using GPS from my phone, and we chatted most of the way up. I told him more about my work and co-workers, and he described what he’d be doing in Japan. After more than three hours, though, it occurred to me I hadn’t asked about his lunch with his brother .

“Declan!” I exclaimed, and he jumped a little, surprised. “I forgot to ask you about lunch. How was lunch with Ethan?”

“Oh,” he responded placidly. “It was good.”

“Did you…did you talk to him?”

“I did.”

“And?”

“And we’re good.” He smiled at me.

“That’s it?”

He nodded, the smile lingering. “Yeah. That’s it.”

I scowled. “I hate men.”

He laughed deep from his belly and the sound was music. It made me smile despite myself. “You know what was crazy, though?”

“Hmm?”

He shot me a sideways grin. “The way women respond to babies. Christ. Ethan must have been hit on ten times, and they weren’t subtle by any means.”

This time I laughed. “Yeah, women are crazy about babies. I never really got that. Are you sure they were all flirting, though?”

“Hannah, yes. A couple women even hit on me ,” he exclaimed. I scowled and he reached over, putting a warm hand on my thigh. “They were handsy , Han.” He waggled his eyebrows.

I scowled deeper, shifting, but his hand stayed firmly on my leg. “What the hell does that mean?” I asked sourly.

“One woman touched my tricep.” He raised this thick, sandy eyebrows high.

“Oh.” I rolled my eyes. “That doesn’t mean anything, Deck.”

A brief look of shock crossed his face. “Of course it does, Hannah. Women don’t touch your upper arms or chest unless they’re hitting on you.”

I was shaking my head. “That’s silly, Deck. I’m sure I’ve touched men’s arms or chests before, and I wasn’t hitting on them.”

He squeezed my thigh once. “Hannah, you touched my chest, right here.” He lifted his hand from my leg, bringing it to the center of his chest. “I can remember the feel of it, the weight and heat of your hand. You’ve touched me a thousand times a thousand ways since then, but I will die remembering that first touch.”

“Well I hope you didn’t have the same reaction to the arm grabber today,” I grumbled, rolling my eyes playfully, even if he was so romantic it felt like my chest might burst. “And I wasn’t hitting on you, I was being friendly.”

The smile he shot me this time was equal parts maddening and sexy. “If you say so,” he replied, “but as I recall barely a week went by before we had sex. And, to be clear, you’ve ruined me for women, my love, just as I think Ellie has ruined Ethan. All those women approached today, and all I could think about was getting home to you.”

I smiled, looking down at his hand, which had settled back on my leg. I traced gently along a vein that protruded from it, following the path down to a long, strong finger. “I’d hardly call that ruinous,” I muttered under my breath.

“You’re right. I mean, obviously you’ve ruined things for those women by taking me off the market, but you’re still the best thing that’s ever happened to me .” He was smiling, green eyes glittering at me like emerald pools when I looked up at him.

It felt as though my ribcage shrunk as my aching lungs and heart pounded against them and my stomach did flips. I lifted his hand and brushed my lips against his knuckles. “You’re very good at that.”

“Good at what?” He made a final turn, pulling in front of a two-story cabin that looked more like a tree house, nestled into the woods and nearly all windows. The lights were on inside the house, and it glowed warmly out of the trees. “Fuck me, Hannah,” he breathed out. “What is this place costing you?”

The answer was roughly a month’s rent, but I certainly wasn’t going to tell him that. After all, I didn’t have much in the way of bills and, a few new clothes notwithstanding, I’d basically paid for nothing besides said rent and some groceries during the two months I’d known Declan. “Good at making me feel special,” I said, answering his first question rather than his second as I stepped out of the car .

Joining me at my car door, he wrapped his arms around me from behind so we could both view the cabin. His lips skimmed over my earlobe and he whispered, “I know you’re being serious, but I cannot imagine what goes on in your brain that you didn’t already know you’re the most beautiful, intelligent, funny woman to ever exist. It’s mind boggling to me.” He kissed the shell of my ear. "I’ll come back for our stuff, let’s go see inside.”

Inside was every bit as beautiful as it appeared in photos, and I felt lucky I’d found the place and that they’d had a last-minute cancellation for the whole week when I called. It seemed like kismet, so I didn’t question spending so much money on it. The lower level was a kitchen and bathroom, both modern and beautiful, with a small circular table for eating. Up a spiral staircase was a single room with windows on three sides, looking out at the woods. A bed sat against the only wall and a couple of comfortable chairs were scattered about the room. It was very beautiful.

He turned to me as we walked upstairs. “Hannah,” his voice was quiet, “this is amazing.” He took me in his arms. “Whaddya’ say we forget baseball and flowers and just live here together?”

Intellectually, I knew he was joking, but my body screamed yes. My aching heart screamed yes . I wanted so badly to collapse in his strong arms and be able to say yes. Afraid I may shout it out, I kissed him instead, pressing my mouth to his desperately.

Moving his hands up my spine and into my hair, he whispered, “I need you,” but I was sure his need tonight was emotional rather than sexual, and our lovemaking was neither hot nor steamy. There were no whispered fantasies or multiple orgasms. Instead, there were two people taking solace in each other’s bodies. My hands ran up and down the hard ridges of chest and back and arms, determined to set each inch of his skin to memory. In the golden glow of the cabin, his eyes were the deep green of spruce trees, and, like my hands, they sought to take in all of me hungrily. As his hips rocked into mine, I reached up to meet him, determined to have more.

I came only moments before him, clutching him to me as my body tensed and arched. He remained on top of me, held up on his forearms, laying soft kisses across my face and neck, and I tangled my hands into his curls, holding his head still to kiss him, then looking at those deep green eyes again. “I love you so much, Hannah,” he whispered.

“I love you, too, Declan.”

He pulled me close and buried his face in my hair as he dropped to one side, and I closed my eyes, pressing my face to his clavicle as I fruitlessly tried to will away the tears.

I’d never been to Door County before, but it was beautiful. We spent our days hiking trails through the woods, climbing lighthouses, and wandering through small towns filled with galleries and studios. We came home every night—and more than once during the day—and made love, sometimes slow and savoring, as we had the first night, and sometimes much more playfully, including once pressed to the cool glass windows.

Friday morning we packed up and headed back into the city, and I looked across at him driving. He’d turned a deeper shade of tan after all of our hiking, and in his T-shirt and shorts he looked very much the Californian he had grown up as. He glanced at me. “What’s up?”

I pulled my hair off my face and into a messy bun of curls at the back of my head. “Nothing. Just marveling over how handsome you are. I picture you growing up on that Full House street and being prom king every year.”

He laughed. “I didn’t live in San Fransisco, let alone Alamo Square, which is the Full House neighborhood I believe you’re referring to. We lived north of the city in a suburb called Ross. And, for the record, I was never prom king, but I was homecoming king once.”

I rolled my eyes. “Of course you were.”

He glanced at me from the corner of his eye. “Ethan was prom king—twice.”

“That doesn't surprise me, either. He’s all smiles and charm, and high schoolers eat that shit up. ”

Declan’s brow twitched. “In my experience, adults eat it up, too.”

“I guess,” I responded, thoughtfully, then added, “Don’t get me wrong, Ethan’s a really nice guy.”

“And very handsome…” Declan threw in, probably fearing I was avoiding saying it.

I hadn’t been thinking about Ethan’s looks, and my face scrunched in confusion. “Sure, he is, but you two look so much alike it’s ridiculous. I mean, you’re a touch taller and more muscular, and you have different colored eyes, but you’re clearly brothers. My point is, Ethan is too damned affable.”

Declan barked out a laugh. “You like your men more surly.”

I smiled. “I wouldn’t call you surly, but you’re more real. Ethan always feels a touch schmoozy, even when he doesn’t mean to be, and you always seem a little vulnerable, even when you’re schmoozing people.”

His brow came down, but a smile still played on his lips. “You say that like it’s a good thing.”

I turned nearly sideways in my seat to face him. “Of course it is. Your honesty and vulnerability are what make you so sexy. That day you barged in demanding flowers I was so ready to hate you. I find that privileged shit loathsome, but you were really honest about your parents, and you were funny, and I liked talking to you,” I explained. He looked very pleased with himself, and I couldn’t help but smile. I doubted Declan had ever felt preferred over his brother. “I love you, Declan.”

On Saturday, Declan had a night game, but I was still off work. Matty called as she finished set-up for a small affair, and I invited her over. She arrived, as usual, with wine and junk food. This time she brought Cheetos and a Snickers for each of us. I grabbed one of the Snickers as she retrieved juice glasses from the kitchen for the wine. “I hate that you eat like this and look like that,” I said, my mouth full of Snickers. “This is delicious, though. Declan eats so healthy all the time.”

“I assume things with Declan are better, considering you were off the radar with him for days?”

“Yeah, we talked. Thank you for telling me to.”

“And is he going back to New York?”

“In forty-eight days, yes. And then to Japan.”

“Japan? What on earth for?”

I shrugged. “I don’t know. There’s baseball there, I guess.”

“Only forty-eight days?” Matty’s golden eyes were wide. “That’s so soon! I’m gonna miss you, Han.”

I shook my head, frowning. “I’m not leaving, Matty. Declan and I both have lives and careers and neither of us can just up and move, but we’re going to spend the days we have left together.”

Matty blinked at me for a moment, and although I recognized the expression, I couldn’t say for sure what she was thinking. “Hannah, that’s stupid,” she said.

Scratch that, I’d known exactly what she was thinking, I just never expected her to say it out loud. “What?”

Matty ripped open the Cheetos and took one out delicately. “Your. Plan. Is. Stupid,” she repeated slowly, as if I were also too dumb to understand her. She put the Cheeto into her mouth and chewed, staring at me.

I was ready to launch into an angry diatribe when the buzzer rang. I got up and let the delivery guy in, then brought the food into the living room, where Matty was curled on the couch, still eating Cheetos. “What’d you get?”

“Sushi,” I responded coolly.

“Since when do you like sushi?”

“Deck found some stuff I like, and we’ve ordered it a couple times recently,” I said with a shrug, remembering as I set the bag down Matty had just called me stupid and I was supposed to be mad at her. “But that’s beside the point. What the fuck, Matty?”

Matty sighed. “Hannah, you love him, don’t you?”

I frowned. “Of course I do. ”

“And I talked to him, and he’s crazy about you. When he came into the shop, it’d barely been a day since he’d seen you, and he was a wreck.” There was a long pause, during which time I said nothing, so Matty pushed further. “Am I right? Does Declan Andrews love you?”

“Yeah, I know he loves me,” I mumbled, sliding our food out of the paper bag and setting it down on the coffee table.

“Well then, what are you doing, Hannah? You don’t have family here. Go with him.”

Her words were technically true, and yet coming from her they felt like a punch to the gut. “I have you. And your mom—the business. I’ve worked hard and I’m good at it…aren’t I?”

Matty smiled sadly. “Shut up. You’re amazing. You’ve always been better than me and, between you and me, I’m starting to think you’re better than my mom as well.” She rubbed her hands on her napkin, then turned so she was kneeling next to me, grabbing my hand between both of hers and leaning close. “And I will always be your best friend.” She sniffed, and her unusual display of emotion made the backs of my eyes burn with tears. “I’ll come visit you anywhere—even Japan, Hannah—but I won’t replace Declan, and you know that.”

I didn’t speak—couldn’t—and finally Matty turned, shifting so we sat thigh-to-thigh on the couch. She leaned her head on my shoulder, probably knowing it would be easier for me to talk if we weren’t making eye contact.

“So I should just give up floristry? Give up everything and follow Declan around?” I asked, staring blankly at the wall in front of me.

I felt her shrug a single shoulder. “Maybe. Wouldn’t you rather be with him?” She looked up at me. “Hannah, you could do floristry in New York or anywhere. You’re talented enough to build a business if you decided you wanted that. God help us if you ever did in Chicago.”

I was shaking my head no before she had even finished the sentence. “No, Matty, you have the business mind. I can’t build my own business, I’m meant to help you run yours.”

She grabbed both of our wine glasses and handed me mine, staring at me seriously. “Then find another event florist. Anyone would be crazy not to hire you. You have an amazing portfolio and, of course, we’d give you great recommendations. I may not have your talent, but I do have a great business mind, you’re right, and I can keep my business going without you. I love you, Hannah, and the last thing I would want is for you to sacrifice your happiness to help me.”

I sipped some wine. “You want me to quit?” I asked.

Matty made an exaggerated eye roll, and when she spoke she was gesticulating wildly enough I worried she may spill her wine. “No, I want you to be happy, and if happy means quitting, I want you to accept that.” Matty sighed irritably. “Can we eat sushi now?”

We ate sushi and Cheetos and drank wine and watched old episodes of House Hunters , in which we heckled the buyers for being too picky and choosing the wrong homes. In the back of my mind, though, Matty’s words floated about, poking into my thoughts and leaving me feeling anxious.

Could I just up and leave everything? Could I move to some home I’d never seen in New York, then just as fast leave it to go to Japan?

But the other half of my mind, set to repeat, had been asking the same question for a week. Could I stand to leave Declan? Would I ever again find even a fraction of the happiness I had right now? And besides, would my world ever be able to snap back into its previous shape now that I knew what I’d lost, or would there forever be a Declan-shaped hole in my previously happy existence?

Matty kept watch over me out of the corner of her eye. She was such a good friend. Growing up, there had been many girls in the community, and some had probably even been my biological sisters, but none had been a friend. I hadn’t known true friendship until I’d lucked into Matty our freshman year, and leaving her would be leaving behind a piece of me as well. I wondered absently if there was any possibility of MLB moving their headquarters to Chicago.

That evening, after Matty left, I took Truman for a walk around the block. We ended up wandering the neighborhood aimlessly for a while, thinking things over. Finally back at the house, I let myself into the kitchen first, as I always did.

“Hannah,” Declan exclaimed, reaching forward in the darkened room and pulling me to him, running his hands along my face and body as if he were checking me for injury. I took a step back, nearly tripping over Truman, who was slipping in the door behind me.

“What’s up?” I asked distractedly, leaning away from his further ministrations.

“Hannah, you can’t just leave without your phone. I was so worried. It’s been over a half-hour, and you and Truman don’t just go walking around at night. Where were you?”

My eyes were still adjusting to the darkness, but I could see the anxiety etched across his face. I felt terribly, and I reached for him, placing my hands on each of his rough cheeks and moving one thumb over his soft lips. “I’m sorry. I was busy thinking and didn’t realize I left behind my phone.”

He wrapped his arms around me, drawing me closer. “What were you thinking about?”

“I don’t know,” I lied, laying my head on his chest.

“What did you say before? ‘I think you do know, but you don’t have to tell me.’”

I sighed. “August sixteenth. I was thinking about August sixteenth.”

“Oh,” he said flatly. He ran his fingertips over the lines of my face. “I’m tired. You want to come to bed or are you staying up?”

I looked at the time and was surprised it was nearly midnight. “Yeah, I’m coming to bed.” I changed into shorts and a tank and joined him.

“I’m too tired to make a move on you,” he murmured quietly, “but can I hold you?”

I slid in against the warmth of his body, which seemed to curl around mine perfectly.

Very quickly I could feel his body relax and his breathing become slow and rhythmic. I rolled over gently to look at his face, which was perfectly visible in the glow of the streetlamp outside the bedroom window. Straight, chiseled features, thick brows and lashes, full lips. His hair was a mess of dark blonde curls that stuck out from his head at weird angles. He wore no shirt, and I could see the roundness of one shoulder above the sheets of the bed. My eyes traced over the shoulder and to the protruding collar bone, down to the center of his throat and the Adam’s apple that hovered above it. His arm tightened around me again, pulling me closer to him, and I settled against his neck and chest, kissing him gently.