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“I don’t know. I really do want to go to New York now. Washington hasn’t been good to me so far.” She frowns, and I watch as she leaves me and disappears into her own mind.
“You’ve been here your whole life.”
She blinks once, takes a deep breath, and tosses her little stray pieces of grass onto her foot. “Exactly.”
Chapter sixty-two
TESSA
Are you ready to go inside?” My voice is a whisper, breaking the silence between us. Hardin hasn’t spoken, and I haven’t been able to come up with anything worth saying in the last twenty minutes.
“Are you?” He lifts himself up using the tree and brushes the dirt off his black jeans.
“If you are.”
“I am.” He smiles a sarcastic smile. “But if you would like for us to keep talking about going inside, we could do that, too.”
“Ha-ha.” I roll my eyes, and he reaches his hand out to help me to my feet. His hand gently wraps around my wrist, and he pulls me up. He doesn’t let go; he only slides his hand down to cup mine. I don’t comment on his gentle touch, or that he’s looking at me in that familiar way, the way that he looks when his anger is masked, overpowered even, by his love for me. This raw and unplanned look on his face reminds me that a part of me needs and loves this man more than I am willing to admit.
There is no plan behind this touch; it’s not a calculated gesture when his arm moves around my waist and he draws me to him as we walk up the grass to the deck.
Once we’re inside, not a word is spoken—we get only a worried glance, from Karen. Her hand is resting on her husband’s arm, and he’s leaning down, talking quietly to Landon, who has now taken a seat back at the dining-room table. Sophia’s no longer around, and I assume she left after the chaos. Who could blame her?
“Are you okay?” Karen turns her attention to Hardin as he walks near.
Landon looks up at the same time as Ken, and I gently nudge Hardin.
“Who, me?” he asks, confused. He stops in front of the staircase, and I bump into him.
“Yes, dear, are you okay?” Karen clarifies. She pushes her brown hair behind her ears and takes a step toward us, her hand moving to her belly.
“You mean”—Hardin clears his throat—“am I going to go on a rampage and bash Landon’s face in? No, I’m not,” he huffs.
Karen shakes her head, patience clear in her soft features. “No, what I meant was, are you okay? Is there anything I can do for you? That’s what I meant.”
He blinks once, composing himself. “Yeah, I’m fine.”
“If the answer to that question changes, be sure to let me know. Okay?”
He nods once and leads me upstairs. I look back down for Landon to follow, but he closes his eyes, turning his face away.
“I need to talk to Landon,” I tell Hardin as he opens the door to his room.
He switches the light on and lets go of my arm. “Now?”
“Yes, now.”
“Right now?”
“Yes.”
The moment I say the word, Hardin has me against the wall. “This second?” He leans into me, his breath warm against my neck. “You’re sure?”
I’m not sure, of anything, really.
“What?” My voice is thick, my head cloudy.
“I think you were going to kiss me.” He presses his lips to mine, and I can’t help but smile into it, into the madness, into the relief of his affection. His lips aren’t soft; they are dry and cracked, but so perfect, and I love the way his tongue laps around mine, pushing into my mouth, not giving me the option to overthink or pull away.
His hands are at my waist, fingers pressing deliciously into the skin there as his knee pushes between my thighs to separate them.
“I can’t believe you are moving so far from me.” He drags his mouth across my jaw to the skin just below my ear. “So far away from me.”
“I’m sorry,” I breathe, unable to say more than that when his hands move from my hips to my stomach, pushing the fabric of my T-shirt along with the heavy drag of his hands.
“Between the two of us, we keep running.” His voice is calm, despite his hands moving quickly to cup my chest. My back is pressed against the wall, and my shirt is lying on the floor at our feet.
“We do.”
“One Hemingway quote, and then I’ll keep my mouth busy elsewhere.” He smiles against my mouth, his hands rubbing, teasing, just above the waist of my pants.
I nod, wanting him to follow through on that promise.
“?‘You can’t get away from yourself by moving from one place to another.’?” He pushes his hand into my pants.
I groan, equally overwhelmed by his words and his touch. His words play on an endless stream inside my mind as he touches me, and I reach for him. He’s clearly straining against his zipper, and he moans my name under his breath as I fumble with the button of his jeans.
“Don’t go to New York with Landon, stay with me in Seattle.”
Landon. I turn my head and remove my hand from Hardin’s zipper. “I need to talk to Landon, this is important. He seemed upset.”
“So? I’m upset, too.”
“I know.” I sigh. “But you clearly aren’t that upset.” I glance down at his cock, boxers barely covering it.
“Well, that’s because I’m distracted from being angry at you—and Landon,” he adds weakly, as an afterthought.
“I won’t be long.” I pull away from him and lift my shirt from the floor, tugging it down over my stomach.