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“No, it’s actually pretty fugly.” He kissed her again, taking in her outraged gasp until she melted into him. When he pulled away, he smiled softly down at her. “But I love how it makes you smile.”

“Aw, that was almost sweet,” she murmured.

“No time for that,” he teased, swatting her on the butt. “Now, you have two hours and twelve minutes.”

“Then what?” she asked.

Blake wiggled his eyebrows. “Then we go back to the hotel.”

“Oh . . . ” She slipped her arms around his waist and kissed him back. “I’m good with that.”

Chapter Thirty-Four

BLAKE LAY IN the king-size bed that night with Hannah curled against his side, her leg thrown across his lower body. It had been a good day playing tourist with Hannah and checking out all the towns and spots around the lake. Hannah had especially liked looking around the little shops, and while that part hadn’t exactly been stimulating, he’d gone along with it for her.

They’d held hands, chased each other along the beach, and even made out against a tree.

And not once had Hannah repeated that she loved him.

He should be relieved that she hadn’t said it again, since it saved him from looking like a jerk. But weirdly, he wanted her to say it again.

God, he was losing his mind.

“Tell me about you and Jenny.”

Blake started at her question, partly because he’d thought she’d been asleep and mostly because it was something he really didn’t want to get into, especially in bed with Hannah.

“You know about her.”

“I only know that you were married and she was murdered. Oh, and I know what she looks like. But you’ve never told me how you met or what she was like.”

“Hannah, I really don’t want to talk about it.”

Silence radiated through the room before she finally whispered, “Okay.”

He could tell by her tone that it definitely wasn’t okay, but what the hell did she expect? They were away on a romantic weekend, and she wanted to talk about his dead wife?

“I just thought that maybe if you talked about her, it might help you find some closure.”

Blake stiffened. “You think I haven’t talked about her? I have spent the last two months working through it with my therapist. I had to relive my life with Jenny and her death every time she asked me to speak. I’ve got closure.”

“I’m sorry. I guess part of me was just curious. I figured she had to be pretty amazing for you to love her so much.”

Blake moved away from her and got up from the bed, picking up his pants with a snap.

“Where are you going?” she asked.

“For a walk. I need some air.”

Blake slammed out onto the private terrace and walked through the gate and down to the beach. Hannah’s question swam through his mind as he stood under the full moon, looking out over the water.

What was she like?

How could he put into words that when he was fifteen, he’d been completely mesmerized by Jenny? That while he played JV football, she’d cheered from the sidelines, driving him to distraction. That they’d lost their virginity to each other on graduation night, and when he’d been deployed, he’d kept her letters in his jacket pocket. That it had taken almost a year to get pregnant, and Jenny h

ad been making little announcement cards to send to their friends once she passed the first trimester.

Why would Hannah want to know any of that? Jenny was gone, and she was in his past. He didn’t want to go back there; he wanted to move forward and be happy.