“Shit.”
“Fuck.”
Her heart thumped harder. She wanted to reach out and rearrange his hair, move it out of his eyes so she could see their piercing blueness. His light-grey t-shirt was lopsided on his body, exposing the right hand side of his shoulder. She felt the sudden urge to touch it.
“This is all a bit Woman of the Year isn’t it?” She tried to bring levity to their situation.
“A bit what?” His brows dipped in confusion.
“It’s a film starring Spencer Tracy and Katharine Hepburn. They’re feuding journalists who eventually get marri—” Hanna stopped suddenly, embarrassment flooding her cheeks. She looked down at the floor avoiding his gaze and mumbled, “It doesn’t matter.”
Josh let out a short laugh, his cheeks puffing up in amusement. “How can you annoy the shit out of me in one moment, then make me laugh like an idiot the next?”
“Pure talent.” She managed to look up from her feet and give him a small smile. “It’s one of my many amazing attributes.”
“It seems that way. For the record, I think you’re a hugely talented journalist, and I have no doubt you’ll go far. But you need to be able to listen to constructive criticism without being a bitch.”
“I know.” It was her turn to rake her fingers through her own hair in aggravation. “When I looked at the magazine I saw red. I wanted to rip your balls off.”
“I left you a note on your desk last week to tell you I’d edited it down. Didn’t you see it?”
“It must have slipped off my desk. Maybe next time you could tell me face to face?”
“If I promise, will you let me kiss you again?”
“If I let you kiss me again, will you give me the front page?”
“No.”
“Ah, sod it. It was worth a try, though.” She grinned impishly at him. He leaned toward her, pressing his mouth against hers. She closed her eyes and felt their lips move together. He ran the tip of his tongue along her lips until she parted them, inviting him in.
His hand moved to her neck, stroking down to her shoulders, then running his index finger down her spine making her body shiver at his touch. She let out a soft moan against his mouth, causing him to increase the pressure of his lips and his tongue until she couldn’t think straight any more.
Six
September 3rd 2001
She could tell it was early from the quality of the light streaming through the thin curtains, covering the windows. She squeezed her eyes shut, her mind chasing sleep until Josh’s insistent fingers began to brush firmly against her breasts, causing her body to awaken, even if her brain was left behind.
“Mmm.” Hanna refused to open her eyes fully. His lips wrapped around her nipple, his tongue bathing and teeth grazing as it hardened in response to his touch.
“Did I wake you?”
“Still asleep.” She smiled as she answered him, knowing she had given herself away.
“Pretend this is just a dream then, a really nice dream.” His lips were moving downward, and she found herself fisting the bed sheets, her body responding to his touch.
Nice as it was, this was definitely no dream.
They had spent the whole summer together, travelling around England to attend different gigs and music festivals. In late August they returned to London where Josh had got a job working at The Guardian as a trainee journalist.
“I have to get up, baby. I need to be in the office by eight.” Josh leaned down and kissed her neck. “I’m shadowing a guy who is travelling around some farms, trying to write an article on Foot and Mouth disease.”
“Are you wearing Wellington boots? Can I call you Farmer Brown?” Hanna smiled at the thought of Josh having to wallow through mud and interview farmers about their Foot and Mouth experiences. The disease had ravaged farms all across the country, culminating in a mass cull of animals. Even Hanna had cried when she saw the images of carcasses stacked in huge piles and being burned. She’d found it hard to get out of her mind for a long time.
“No and no. But you can get down and dirty with me when I get home tonight. What have you got planned today?”
“It’s Ruby’s first day of school. I promised I’d walk her there with Richard.”