“But you wanted to.”
“Is his father important to you?”
“As far as I’m concerned, Graham doesn’t have a father.”
Hank gave her a sweet smile and fell back into the grass, hauling the toddler down with him. Graham loved the rowdy game. His peals of laughter eventually brought Cathy to the back door to investigate. She invited Hank to stay for dinner.
* * *
“I’m going to miss you like hell.” Hank stared dismally through the windshield of his car. It was raining—a heavy, ponderous spring rain. “If my mother wouldn’t pitch a bitch, I’d stay here and go to summer school.”
“You can’t do that, Hank. Especially not on my account.”
Jade was sitting in the passenger seat of his Volkswagen, which he had painted to look like a ladybug. He turned his head and gazed at her. “Jade, everything I do is on your account. Haven’t you figured that out yet?”
She cast her eyes down. “I told you months ago that we were only going to be friends. That’s all. I distinctly remember the conversation. It took place right after you returned from Christmas vacation. We were studying for that biology—”
“I remember, I remember,” he said testily.
“Don’t blame me if you’re disappointed now. I was honest with you from the beginning.” She reached for the door handle, but he caught her arm.
“You haven’t been honest, Jade. You’ve told me that all you want is friendship, but you haven’t told me why. I can only guess that your reason has something to do with Graham.”
She shook her head adamantly.
“Listen, Jade, I’m crazy about that kid. I don’t care who fathered him, I’d love to be his daddy.”
“Please, Hank, don’t,” she groaned. “Don’t say anything more. I can’t return what you feel.”
“How do you know?”
“I know.”
“Why, Jade? Tell me. I know you like me.”
“I like you very much.”
“But… What?”
She looked away, refusing to answer.
“Jade.” Hank cupped her face between his long, slender hands. “Some bastard hurt you. He broke your heart. Let me make up for that, okay? I love you so much, I can make up for any bad experience you suffered.”
She clamped her teeth over her lower lip and shook her head as much as his bracketing hands would allow it to move.
“You’re so beautiful, Jade. Jesus, I love you.”
He lowered his head toward hers and, for the first time, kissed her. His lips were soft and gentle. They posed no threat, and yet Jade’s heart began to drum. Shock and fear immobilized her. He kissed the features of her face, glancing his lips off her eyelids and cheekbones and murmuring about how beautiful and desirable she was, and how badly he wanted to make love to her.
Eventually he returned to her lips. Jade took several swift, short breaths, then ceased to breathe at all when his lips applied more pressure and tried to separate hers. Still petrified, she couldn’t push him away. Mistakenly, he took that as an encouraging sign. He angled his head to one side and rubbed his lips against hers, parting them.
Jade’s body stiffened. Hank removed his hands from either side of her head and set them on her shoulders, where his fingers tried to massage away her tension. Then he took one of her hands and pressed it against his chest. The other, he placed on his thigh.
His breathing grew rough and irregular. He made small, hungry sounds deep in his throat. Nevertheless, he exercised supreme self-discipline as he attempted to deepen their kiss and coax a response from her. Jade recoiled. Hank was gently persistent.
His tongue wasn’t intrusive or imperious, but the moment it entered her mouth, Jade began to whimper with revulsion and fear. She didn’t recall the ardent tenderness of Gary’s kisses, only those which had been forced on her during the rape. She moved her hands to Hank’s shoulders. Misreading her reaction, his arms went around her and hugged her tightly as he pressed her against the door and leaned over her.
“No!” Jade shoved him away, thrashing her head from side to side and begging him to stop hurting her. She emitted dry, racking sobs. “Stop. Please don’t. Oh, God!”