“Guilty.” She looked up and caught Ryan’s grin, and somehow, that helped her find her balance again. “How do you feel about heat?”
“Honey, I am all about heat.”
She smiled as she scooped up the peppers and jalapeños she’d just washed and set them down by his cutting board. “Good. Chop all of these, too.”
“She’s a slave driver,” Ryan told Duke. He looked back at her. “He’s totally judging you.”
“He’s judging you. He’s in awe of me.”
“Hannah, we’re all in awe of you.” Suddenly his expression was way too serious, sucking all the air out of the kitchen. “Are you thinking about your application? Because you shouldn’t be nervous about that. You have amazing talent and drive.”
She felt pleasant heat rise in her cheeks at his words. “I turned that in yesterday.”
“Yeah? That’s awesome. So if not that, what are you pondering so deeply?”
She could lie, but even the little white kind wasn’t in her nature. So she shrugged. “Us. This—” She waved a hand between them, encompassing all the flirtation and innuendo and…more. “—thing.”
He paused, then nodded. “What was it you’ve been telling me all week? Focus on the now instead of the past or too far into the future?” Despite the teasing edge to his smile, something more serious lingered beneath. “You’ve done a pretty epic job keeping my mind in the here and now, and that’s not easy.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment.”
“How’d you end up that way? All cheerful Zen or whatever?”
Scooping out the browned meat with a slotted spoon, Hannah considered the question. “I focus on the now because I’m grateful to have the now, when things could’ve gone a whole other way in the accident. And I take pleasure and joy in the life I have, not the life I thought I’d have, or that might be just around the corner. Which isn’t to say I don’t plan for the future, but that’s a lot hazier to me than it used to be.”
Shouldn’t that be her answer, then? To take the pleasure he offered and enjoy it for what it was, regardless of where it couldn’t go?
“I always figured I’d be career military.” With the flat of the knife, Ryan scraped the chopped vegetables into the popping grease of the pot. “That’s hazier than it used to be.”
“You’re rethinking that path?”
“I wasn’t until I came here.”
Emotions like pebbles clogged her throat, each one inscribed with a wish she had for the two of them. Wishes that couldn’t be voiced. She hadn’t expected this from him, hadn’t believed she’d really convince him he wanted or needed anything beyond this temporary, casual…thing for the holidays. She hadn’t expected to want more than that herself. But there was nothing casual in his expression, nothing casual in the pulse that kicked to a gallop in her throat. The air went thick between them, and she was almost afraid to speak for fear of breaking the spell.
He skimmed his fingers through her hair. “You make me remember what I’m fighting for.”
“What’s that?”
He smiled a little. “Life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness with a woman and a big, sloppy dog.”
Behind them, Duke’s tail thumped. Neither of them looked his way.
“Had you forgotten?” she murmured.
“I’d just...given up the wanting of them for myself. But this week with you reminded me that there’s life outside war.”
“Good. I wanted that for you.”
“What do you want for yourself?”
Hannah blinked at him. “I…” How was she supposed to answer that? Right now, she couldn’t see past this moment, past wanting him, his body against hers. And maybe that life with the big, sloppy dog. But how could she say that?
“You don’t even know how to answer that, do you? You spend all this time thinking about what everybody else needs and none about yourself.” He stroked a knuckle across her cheek, a whisper of a touch that scrambled her brain.
“Is there something wrong with that?”
“No. But since you’re short on ideas, should I tell you what I want for you?”
“Please.” She didn’t know where he was going with this, but as long as he kept talking, he’d keep standing right there, close to her, with his deep, rich voice skating over her skin. She could live in this delicious moment, and not make big choices.
“In the grand scheme of things, I want you to have a career doing the thing you love, in a way that makes you happy. I want you to get to a point where you feel safe and comfortable getting back behind the wheel just because you feel like it, not because somebody expects you to. And in the short term, I want you to have a week away somewhere with sandy beaches and fruity drinks with little umbrellas.”
She arched a brow at the shift from serious. “I’m in need of a tropical beach vacation?”
“Well, that one might be a little more for me since I’d be with you in that particular scenario. Swimsuits optional.”
A week in an island cabana to explore every inch of that battle-hardened body? Yeah, she could get behind that. “I like the way you think.”
“I’ve been giving that a lot of thought. But that’s not the week we’ve got.”
“No, it’s not,” she murmured. His week was supposed to be about Percy. She had more houses and businesses to decorate. And he’d be leaving soon.
It’s not fair.
But life wasn’t fair. She’d had that lesson driven home in ways that had scarred her body, and she’d had to work not to let it scar her mind. That had made her a woman who lived in the now, who savored the moment, and yet, with him, she found herself yearning for the what if, and with the yearning, aching. She turned to add the rest of the ingredients to the pot, mixing everything together as she struggled to breathe past the tightness in her chest.
“Look, Hannah, I want you. I think that’s obvious. But I get that’s a big thing and maybe more than you’re willing to give under the circumstances. And that’s absolutely fine. I get it. I won’t be offended, and I won’t push. Either way, you’ve given me enough fantasy fodder to fuel me for a good, long while.”
“Fantasy fodder, huh?” She liked the idea of him carrying a piece of her back with him, of being his fantasy. She desperately wanted this to be a beginning for them. She couldn’t count on that, but her default position was one of optimism and hope, so she’d embrace it. Embrace him.
Giving the pot another stir, she put on the lid and turned down the heat. She turned back to him, settling her hands on his chest, needing to touch him, needing to feel the increasing thud of his heart under her palm. “You asked me what I want for myself. Right now, that’s you.”
Her gaze flicked up to his, and their eyes locked as his hands settled on her hips, holding her in place. But he remained silent, waiting for her to finish as the moment ran long, as the current that had crackled between them all week buzzed along her skin, and her breath all but stalled. “Instead of making ourselves crazy with the wondering or worrying, let’s just start with that and see where it goes.”