What a blind, selfish bastard. He hadn’t appreciated what he already had. His loss was going to be Dallas’s gain.
And Dallas would never, ever, make the mistake of undervaluing Hannah.
Dishes done, he made himself comfortable on a sofa that was well past its prime but worked with the eclectic vibe of the room. She had her brother’s artistic eye for design. When he compared her apartment to his house, which had been professionally decorated by an interior designer, he found his sadly lacking. Her space felt lived in whereas he used his for sleeping. Other than hanging out with Ryan and Dan, he avoided it as much as he could.
He was admiring the view of the street through a window that took up most of one wall when the bedroom door finally opened. He turned.
And he stared.
She’d knotted her long hair in a low bun at the nape of her neck. A black velvet headband encircled her forehead. Dark eyeliner and a deep red lipstick had been added for a dramatic effect. The sleeveless, black-and-silver, flapper-style evening dress clung to the curves of her hips and breasts, which he knew from personal experience were every bit as fantastic as the dress made them appear. Glittery black fringes attached to the knee-length hem exposed slim, muscular calves when she moved. Low heels with a T-strap that managed to look sexy completed the ensemble.
“My God,” he breathed, because it was the only comment his overtaxed brain could churn out.
Anxiousness brought out the blue of her eyes. She smoothed her hands down her hips. “Is it too much?”
For his heart?
Definitely. It was bouncing around in his chest like a child on a backyard trampoline.
For ladies’ night, however?
“I think it’s spot-on. You look beautiful,” he added sincerely.
She blushed in a way that suggested she wasn’t used to hearing compliments from men—one more reason her ex was a putz. A woman like Hannah should never, ever, have to wonder about her own worth.
The temptation to touch her proved too great a test for the boundaries they’d set. He crossed the room in a few steps and reached for her hand.
“Not only are you beautiful, you’re amazing,” he said, lacing their fingers together and giving hers a quick squeeze. “In so many ways. You run a brewery that’s well on its way to success. Your business feels pretty solid. You fix your own truck—yes, I noticed it’s back on the road—and judging by the taproom and your apartment, you have a good eye for design. I should also point out that you’ve brightened an old man’s final days.”
Plus, her smile was too sweet for words.
He gathered her into his arms. His palm encountered bare flesh where the open back of her dress dipped to her waist. Her hips melted against his. She tilted her chin upward, aligning her lips closer to his, and touched her fingertips to his cheek. Lust skyrocketed into his groin. The kid on the trampoline began doing backflips.
“Thank you for saying such nice things,” she said.
Then, she kissed him. It started out chaste enough, just a light brush of her lips, but his mouth had a mind of its own and far different plans. His hands refused to be left out either, and two seconds after they began roaming, logical thought completely abandoned the building. She was soft in all the places he liked. She smelled fantastic, too. Like vanilla and almond butter.
Exactly the way he remembered.
God, he wanted her so much. Her fingers dug into his butt cheeks, suggesting she felt the same way. He dipped his knees slightly and hiked up the hem of her dress, running his hands up the backs of her thighs. The long fringes trickled like thin strands of silk over his wrists.
Her skin felt like silk, too. She tasted like liquid honey.
One minute more and they’d end up in her bed.
His brain rode back in on that thought. She had an event already planned for the evening and he wouldn’t ruin it for her. He wasn’t going to rush her again, either.
He withdrew his hands from under her dress and returned her feet to the floor.
They were both breathing heavily.
She regained her ability to speak before he did, although she kept her gaze a little south of his chin and stared at his throat. She swiped his lips with her thumb. “You have lipstick all over your mouth.”
He suspected she didn’t know that the way she touched him wasn’t helping to tame the situation. Not at all.
“That’s an occupational hazard I’m prepared to accept.” She lifted her eyes, looking puzzled. “I’m your bartender tonight, remember?” he prompted, taking it as a good sign that he had to remind her. “People will be arriving any minute now.”
He assessed the damage he’d done to her appearance. Despite the care he’d tried to take, she looked as if she’d been kissed. Her mouth was bare of lipstick in patches. Her eye makeup was smeared at one corner, and her hairband, tipped slightly off-kilter. A touchup was definitely in order if she didn’t want people jumping to conclusions—particularly the right ones—and a knot of fear warned she likely wasn’t ready for that yet.
He didn’t want her to disappear from his life once again.
“I’ll go unlock the front door while you do whatever it is you need to do,” he said.
“Wait.” She grabbed a tissue from a box on the dresser inside her bedroom door and handed it to him. A smile crinkled her eyes. “That lipstick isn’t your color.”
“Thanks.”
He wiped his mouth and tucked the tissue in his pocket, then headed downstairs.