The Kissing Season by Rachael Johns

Author:Rachael Johns
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2014-12-26T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER FIVE

HANNAH ROLLED OFF the bed, her heart pounding as she scrambled on the floor looking for her clothes. Her body buzzed with what she’d just experienced—what would only have been the tip of a very pleasurable iceberg—but she hadn’t been able to go through with it.

Capris. Yes. Top. Thank you, God. But where the hell was her underwear? As she gathered up what clothes she could find, she fought the urge to turn around and look at Matt. She could only imagine the anger he might be feeling right this second. Just thinking about what she’d done to him, how shabbily she’d treated him when he’d been nothing but honest with her, had her stomach twisting in disappointment. Deciding to forgo undies and bra and simply get dressed as fast as possible was one thing, but her lungs ached with struggling to breathe, and the coordination needed to dress herself had gone AWOL.

“Hannah.” He spoke for what seemed like the first time in ages but could be no longer than half a minute.

She shut her eyes, preparing for a barrage of anger or at least a few choice names for what he thought of her, but nothing of the sort came.

“Here.” As the two scraps of material that made up her underwear appeared outstretched toward her, she realized Matt had climbed off the bed and come to her. She dared not look at him as she took his offering, mumbled a “thank you” and somehow managed to fix the items where they were supposed to go. Her underwear in place, she took a quick breath and pulled her capris and shirt on as well. Behind her she heard shuffling of what sounded like Matt dressing, but her cheeks burned red and she still couldn’t bring herself to turn around.

“I guess that’s why you didn’t want the beer,” he said eventually.

She tried to decipher the tone of his voice—irritation, sadness, amusement, something else? He had every right to feel angry with her; she’d been a selfish bitch.

“I’m sorry, Matt.” She turned slightly, dared to look into his face. And damn, it was gorgeous. Even without his roguish smile, he could be the poster boy for toothpaste, aftershave or diet soft drinks. How could she begin to tell him that she’d wanted some of that? Just one last time before she became a mother, Miss Responsible, she wanted to do something for her. Something that made her knees buckle and her feminine core rejoice.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

She found herself giggling because no man had ever asked her such a question, not even Larry. About to make a joke of this, she bit down on the reactive reply and shook her head. “Not really, but I guess I owe you some kind of explanation.”

“You don’t owe me anything.” He folded his arms across his chest and glanced toward the door.

Yes, she could see now there was anger simmering in his eyes. “I do owe you an apology. I should have told you about the baby straightaway.

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