Page 8 of The Perfect Secret

She stopped eating and watched him. He cleared his throat. “Mustard and tomato sauce.”

“A horrible combination. I don’t think I should let you cook for me.”

He raised an eyebrow. “I’m a pretty decent cook. Tess will vouch for me.”

“Really?”

“Well, if you’re inclined to believe a teenager.”

“It’s hard being her age. I remember it well.” She shuddered.

“Bad time?” If she had bad memories about her teenaged years, how would she feel about dating the father of one?

“Made worse by my three brothers.”

“Older or younger?”

“Older.”

“What are they like now?”

Her smile slipped and she bit her lip. “Older.”

He took the hint and changed the subject, with more grace this time. “So, what kind of PR do you do?”

Sitting back, he listened as she talked about her clients: her pharmaceutical client’s great charity work, but how it was impossible to get them the type of publicity they wanted; what she wanted to do five and ten years from now; how she wanted to be able to support her grandmother. He watched the sparkle light up her blue eyes, reminding him of sun glinting off a wave in the ocean. He listened to the lilt in her voice, and remembered how it’d washed over him at lunch the other day and made him not only eat with her, but pursue her. He asked questions and by the time the bill came, he felt as if he were back in the game.

As he paid, he turned to Hannah. “I’m glad we did this today. Any chance you’d want to do something again? Despite my age, being a parent to a teenager, my cane…I had an accident several years ago, injured my knee, and it never healed right. So, if you’re looking for a star athlete, you should probably keep looking.”

He held his breath, waiting to see what she said.

She nodded, and he finally released a breath.

“Do you have your phone on you?” she asked.

She’d said yes. He pulled it out of his pocket and handed it to her, his hand almost shaking in relief. She returned it to him. “Open your contacts.”

He entered his password three times before it worked, opened the contacts app and handed the phone to her. She typed the same as his daughter, with her thumbs, whereas he used his pointer fingers. God, she was out of his league.

“I put my cell number in your phone. This way you don’t have to search the internet for me.”

Maybe it’d been a while since he’d dated. But when her eyes twinkled and her face glowed as it did now, he didn’t care about anything but her. He grasped her wrist, sliding his fingers across the delicate bones in her wrist, feeling her pulse skitter beneath his skin. Her lips parted and an uncontrollable desire to kiss her filled him. Should he…would she…could he?

He stood there a moment, not moving or breathing. Such a short distance to cross, yet as wide as an ocean. Kissing her, tasting her, feeling her body against his—it was a fantasy he wanted to turn into reality. But not now. Because when he did kiss her, he wanted it to be perfect. And perfection needed a plan.

Hannah rode the elevator to her apartment that night after work, smiling every time she thought about her lunch with Dan. He was warm and funny. When he looked at her, really looked at her, her insides tingled, like effervescent soda bubbles. Imagine what would happen when he kissed her.

She slipped her key in the lock and opened the door. Voices greeted her and she stiffened, all thoughts of Dan’s kiss evaporating. Gritting her teeth, she stepped into the hallway,dropped her keys on the desk, and hid her purse in the far corner of the coat closet.

Her grandmother looked toward her. “Hi,Hannahla, look who stopped by.”

“Jeff.” Hannah nodded to her brother and walked into the living room. His sandy hair was combed this time, his T-shirt and jeans cleaner than she remembered them being in a long time.

“Hey, Hannah.”

“Jeff was telling me about his apartment.”Bubbebeamed from her seat.

Hannah edged onto the corner of the sofa. “I thought you got kicked out of your apartment.”