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Authors: Christina James

Tags: #Contemporary, #Literature & Fiction, #Contemporary Fiction, #Romance

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BOOK: A Place to Call Home
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Chapter Sixteen

 

Hannah cradled Luke in her arms. She expected to hear yelling from upstairs, but only silence clung to the air—and that proved worse. Not knowing was what happening. The poor boys.

 

Hannah cringed, the memories of her childhood flowing through her mind. Oh, what would Mac do to the boys? He wouldn’t beat them. She believed that. But he had lifted the boys so easily, their height and weight not even a factor, as he dragged them to their feet and carried them off with him. She glanced back to the stairs again.

 

“Hannah?” Luke said sleepily. “Where did Daddy go?”

 

She rubbed his head and kissed it softly. “Hush, honey. He’s just talking with your brothers. Go back to sleep.”

 

Hannah wanted to go to the boys’ defense, but she couldn’t interfere with Mac’s parenting. Oh, but she didn’t want to see Aidan and Ryan punished because of some silly crush Aidan had. And now it appeared Ryan did too. She sighed. Mac had said it before. She caused trouble everywhere.

 

The movie had ended, and the television screen became black. The house remained silent except for Porkchop’s snoring and the tick of the kitchen clock. What was taking so long? Why couldn’t she hear anything? Oh, this waiting tortured her. Aidan and Ryan were in trouble because of her and there was nothing she could do about it.

 

Mac finally strolled back into the parlor about twenty minutes later with a sober face. He looked at Hannah then bent down to pick up Luke.

 

Mac cradled his son in his arms. “Give me a minute, Hannah.” He disappeared up the stairs.

 

When Mac returned to the living room, Hannah glanced up from where she sat on the couch.

 

“Luke said to tell you goodnight,” Mac said, his voice calm, almost sweet.

 

She smiled but didn’t speak.

 

“And just so you know, Hannah, I didn’t kick my other sons’ asses like they deserved. They only have you to thank for that.”

 

Relief filled her. “I’m glad you didn’t.” She stood and slid her feet into her sandals. “You’re right, Mac. I do cause trouble everywhere I go. I’m sorry. Good night.”

 

He grabbed her arm gently when she passed him. “Hold on a minute. You can’t blame yourself for the way those knuckleheads acted tonight. Hell. They’ve been acting like that since they became teenagers.”

 

She sighed. “I just don’t want to be the cause for them getting in trouble.”

 

“You’re not. They are. They both just got grounded for two weeks and I had a long talk with them.” His fingers lifted her chin bringing her gaze to his. “I don’t hit my kids, Hannah. Though, God knows they could use a swift kick in the ass. But I try to talk to them instead. Do you want to go check on them?”

 

“No. Of course I believe you. It’s just, well, I’m sorry.” She looked down at her hands. “I got scared.”

 

“Why would you get scared?”

 

“It’s a long story.”

 

“I’ve got time. You never did tell me any more about your past.” He tugged her down to sit with him on the couch. “Tell me, Hannah. Make me understand.”

 

She took a deep breath. Could she talk about it? She dared to glance at Mac and the compassion in his eyes convinced her she could.

 

“My mother is a druggie and a lunatic. I’ve long since given up trying to change her, so I just support her by paying her rent when she doesn’t or her medical bills when she attempts rehab for the millionth time. She suffers from mental illness and doesn’t have any self-esteem. She lets the men in her life—and I use the term men loosely since they’re all pieces of shit—run her life and destroy it.” Taking a deep breath to calm her nerves, she stared at his chest. He remained quiet, so she continued. “My father is a very violent man. He’s managed to chase me down in every town I’ve happened to be in to get what money he can from me. Since he scares me to death, I just give him what he wants so he leaves me the hell alone.”

 

“For some reason,” he said, the Southern drawl evident in his slowly spoken words, “I can’t picture you scared to death.”

 

Her eyes met his. She had to get him to understand how volatile her father could be without provocation. “I am. Of him. He’s a vicious man. That’s why my mother and I were always on the run. He used to beat us and steal her money—what little she had. Then when he found out about my restaurants he gave up on my mother for handouts and haunts me.”

 

“You’re an adult now. Use that temper of yours and tell him to hit the road. There’s no more handouts,” Mac said sternly.

 

“I wish I could be that brave. But whenever I see him, it takes me back to when I was a little girl and how much he hurt me. The last time he showed up for money I was in Tennessee. I tried to tell him no, but as soon as his hands came around my throat and squeezed, I gave in.” Her shoulders drooped. “He took the money and left.”

 

A dangerous look filled his eyes while they darkened to the deepest blue she’d ever seen them. “You have no problem standing up to me.”

 

“Because I know you’d never hurt me like he would. With you and other people, I don’t hesitate to speak my mind because I know not everyone solves their problems with fists. It took me years to realize not everyone acts like a bully and torments those smaller than them.” She sighed, her belly tied in knots remembering how it felt to be so vulnerable. “It’s just easier to give him the money. He never sticks around. Just takes it and leaves. I always tell myself that some day I’ll have the courage to stand up to him. But that’s easier said than done.”

 

“You know you’ll always be on the run until you stand up for yourself and I don’t mean by you fist fighting him. Call the authorities next time and let them handle him.”

 

She nodded. “Heard enough of my past now?”

 

“Nope. I said I want to hear everything.”

 

She looked at him a moment, his eyes staring into hers. “Why?” Surprise consumed her. Most men had never taken the time to get to know any part of her. And any mention of a troubled past had sent them running in the opposite direction.

 

“Why not?”

 

Hannah sighed. She could do this. Hell, she had already explained half of her life. No reason to stop now. “My mother tried her best to take care of me, but it was more of the other way around for as long as I remember. We would bounce from shelters to her boyfriends’ houses. I never attended school long in any one district. My mother would sleep with anyone as long as they supported her drug habit and fed us. Then as I grew up and started to, well, blossom, Mother got mad at me because her boyfriends started to look at her daughter instead of her. Mother needed to be the center of attention and was very immature. In fact, she wouldn’t let me call her Mother. I had to call her by her name, so she could pass me off as her younger sister instead of her daughter. She was only sixteen when she had me, so it was a believable lie. Then one night while my mother and I were staying at her creepy new boyfriend’s apartment, I was sleeping on the couch when I awoke to a hand moving up my thigh.” She stopped talking, the memory too difficult to tell. Her stomach clenched, threatening to toss up its contents.

 

After a long moment, Mac said softly, “I’m still listening if you want me to, Hannah.”

 

His steady gaze and warm eyes strangely comforting to her, she continued.

 

“I wanted to scream but he covered my mouth with his hand. I fought him off before he could molest me but just having him touch me skeeved me out.”

 

“So what happened? I hope your mother stomped his head in for that attack.”

 

“I wish. Instead she blamed me.”

 

Mac’s brow furrowed.

 

“I was fifteen.” Hanna continued. “And Mother believed the boyfriend when he said I came on to him. She threw me out saying I was cramping her style and was old enough to take care of myself. I didn’t hear from her until I opened my first restaurant and a news article on me appeared in local papers. Then my mother came looking for a handout. I’ve been unable to shake her since. I’m not afraid of her like I am of my father, though.”

 

“Then why give her a handout?” Mac asked.

 

Hannah shrugged. “I guess because she’s my mother and a girl only gets one of those, good or bad. I feel better if I help her out. She really can’t take care of herself.”

 

“Nothing wrong with helping out your mother as long as you do it because you want to and not because you feel threatened.”

 

“The money means nothing. The peace and quiet between calls is priceless.”

 

His fingers inched her chin up until she gazed into his eyes.

 

“I’m not your father, Hannah. I don’t get kicks out of beating up women and children.”

 

“I know.” Her eyes watered. “Do they hate me?”

 

“Who? Ryan and Aidan? You’ve got to be kidding. They’ve got you on a friggin’ pedestal. You do no wrong in their eyes.”

 

She smiled. “Make sure you tell Luke thanks for inviting me for movie night. I really did enjoy myself. Believe it or not, I never had anything like this,” she said, gesturing around and then back to him. “You’re giving your kids some great memories, Mac.”

 

“You look like you’re going to cry.” His hand massaged the side of her neck, his expression warming her heart.

 

“No. I just, well…I had a great time.”

 

“We enjoyed having you. I know I did.”

 

He wrapped his arm around her waist, his hand pulling her head forward for his lips to meet hers. Gently, he kissed her, his tongue tracing the outline of her lips. When she opened her mouth, he slipped in easily and she tasted his warmth, his tongue caressing hers until she thought she’d be mindless with lust. When he pulled away she stared at him. Her cheeks flamed and her wet lips parted, begging to be kissed again.

 

“My kids think we should date,” he said softly.

 

Her heart pounded. This was all moving way too fast. She couldn’t think straight. “I don’t have a lot of luck with men. We’d be doomed. We’ll just have to see where this goes.”

 

She slipped from his embrace, took her purse from the counter, and accepted his hand as he walked her to her car. She kissed his lips, lingering for a moment, wanting so badly to explore intimacy with Mac, maybe give a relationship a chance. But reality reared its ugly head reminding her of what she could never have.

 

Stepping back, she avoided his gaze and slipped into her car.

 

 

 

Chapter Seventeen

 

Mac stood in Hannah’s house and cursed his tape measure for not working properly. When the front door opened behind him, he turned and faced Hannah.

 

“Oh, Mac. Hi. I didn’t see your truck outside,” Hannah said, holding two large paper bags that Mac immediately grabbed from her.

 

“Got dropped off for a bit. Where do you want these?” he asked, his head motioning to the shopping bags.

 

“Just leave them on the counter, please. What brings you here?” Hannah asked, walking back outside to her car.

 

 “Taking measurements.”

 

“I can do this, Mac,” Hannah said, stopping in her driveway. “I don’t want to interrupt your work day.”

 

He smiled wide, and thoughts of stripping her naked raced through his head. “Darling, I never complain when a beautiful woman disrupts my job.”

 

Her smile lit up her face. It hit him in the gut hard, taking his breath away. When the fuck did a smile affect him like that? Shit.

 

“Guess you Southern boys are very good at flirting,” Hannah said, passing him bags.

 

“That and other things,” he said with a wink when she squinted at him. He glanced inside her car. “Jesus, Hannah. What’s all this food for? I feed the boys and myself and buy less in a week.”

 

“I haven’t decided what to bring to your mother’s house tomorrow for the barbeque,” she said and shut the trunk.

 

“I could’ve saved you a lot of trouble. Nothing.” Mac walked behind Hannah, enjoying the sway of her hips before leaving the last of the bags on the counter.

 

When Hannah slammed a can on the counter, Mac’s gaze snapped up to meet hers. “Give me any grief and I swear I’ll bop you off the head with something,” she said.

 

“Just try, sweetheart,” Mac said sternly, hoping to head off one of her tantrums. By the gleam in her eyes, she itched for one.

 

“Just what is your problem with me cooking something for the barbeque, Mac?” She held her palm out. “On second thought, I don’t care. Be in a pissy mood. I have to put this food away.” She marched around her kitchen.

 

“Come here and hold this,” Mac ordered.

 

She looked up at him. “Did you not just hear what I said? I’m busy if you haven’t noticed.”

 

“Yeah, doing nothing that can’t wait a minute. Now get over here and hold this.”

 

Those green eyes shot daggers and she made no effort to move. Instead, she cleared off the counter.

 

He lifted his eyes to the ceiling. “Give me strength, God. Just give me strength.”

 

She stared at him but didn’t say a word. The pissed-off look on her face said enough.

 


Please
,” Mac said as calmly as he could since she’d been home only a matter of minutes and was already at his throat. “Hannah, please come hold this for me.”

 

Putting down the box in her hand, she sashayed to him, her hips swaying seductively in baby blue shorts. She held the tape measure and glared. “It’s amazing how well I respond when you ask nicely. Isn’t it, Austin?”

 

“Be careful,” he warned, looking into her eyes. “You know how much I like it when you say my name. You’ll find yourself in trouble. Maybe even having an afternoon session between the sheets.”

 

She laughed. “Oh, is that it? You’re horny so you’re cranky?”

 

He ignored her, holding his breath not to smell her intoxicating perfume. “All set,” he said. “Thanks for the help,” he added, sarcastically.

 

“Let me give you a piece of advice,
Austin
,” she said, facing him, hands on her hips. “Use your hand and stroke it back and forth like this.” She made the motion of a hand job. “And poof. In a matter of minutes your problem will be solved.”

 

His jaw dropped as he watched her walk back to the counter. Did she just tell him to go jerk off? And did she just
show
him how it’s done? Like he, a full-grown man, didn’t know how to jerk off? Jesus, she was the most ornery woman he’d ever met. Well, if she thought she could embarrass him, she thought wrong.

 

Mac stalked over to the kitchen, his pride wounded. “You know, you did that very well, Hannah. Have a lot of practice?”

 

The instant the question left his mouth, he regretted it. He hadn’t meant to be so blunt and vulgar. He had only meant to taunt her. By the look on her face, the way her eyes darkened and narrowed to thin slits and her pretty little mouth set firmly in place told him he’d just awakened a sleeping volcano. Damn, wasn’t she sexy?

 

He recovered quickly. “I’m sorry, Hannah. That was totally uncalled for. I didn’t mean it.”

 

Before he could get another word out, she raised the can in her hand. He stepped back but not far enough and caught the sauce she hurled toward his head.

 

“Jesus, Hannah! Stop it. I said I’m sorry.” He snagged a jar of olives next but a box of rice bounced off his arm. “Damn it! I said stop!”

 

“I’ll stop when I run out of food,” she yelled.

 

A quick glance at the counter and he could see she had plenty of ammunition. Christ, he didn’t need this crap right now. He had other jobs to complete and being wounded wouldn’t help.

 

“I said I’m sorry. What else do you want?”

 

She hurled boxes quicker and with better aim. Oh, she was in a good temper now. Great! Just what he needed.

 

“Hannah, if you don’t stop I’ll start throwing this stuff back at you,” he yelled, raising the can of sauce and hoping she wouldn’t call his bluff—he’d never throw the can at a woman.

 

She stood flushed and breathing heavy. “Maybe you should just come over here, Austin. Let me show you how a hand job is done? Huh? Come over here.” She looked evil and sexy all at once.

 

He smiled. “No way. I like my manhood attached and in one piece thank you.” He stomped to the counter, set the cans down, and held his hands up in surrender. “I’m truly sorry.”

 

“Don’t you have work to do?” She turned her attention back to her groceries. “And where is your truck?”

 

“I got dropped off and sent my assistant to the store to pick up supplies. I’m multi-tasking. Thought I could get the measurements done while he did that. Forgot I needed someone to hold the damn tape.” His brain had gone on vacation replaced by constant thoughts of Hannah and those sexy shorts she had on weren’t helping.

 

“And you call me stupid?” Her eyes shone light green again, the darkness and temper gone.

 

“Touché. Okay. I deserved that one.” Bending, he continued cleaning up the floor and picked up the groceries that she’d used as missiles, placing them near the sink. “And my mom wouldn’t want you to go through any trouble. She’d just want you to come and enjoy yourself.”

 

“I always cook a dish,” she stated, moving some of the canned goods to the cabinet and stacking them neatly.

 

“Suit yourself.” He gave up and leaned against the counter.

 

She smiled. “Find me that sauce I threw at you, or I can’t make the meatballs.”

 

He handed her the jar, the brief touch of his fingers on her hand sending a heated flash up his arm, like a jolt of electricity. With a snap of his wrist he yanked her to him, holding her hostage against his chest. “I can smell
Trouble
.” He buried his face into the crook of her neck and inhaled the scent of her perfume until he thought his lungs would burst. “My God, Hannah, you smell good enough to nibble.”

 

When Mac slowly ran his teeth along the sensitive hollow of her neck, her squeals of laughter filled the kitchen. Her fingers danced across his back, clawing at his shirt. His cock raged against his jeans, demanding to be seated deep inside the wetness of her pussy. When her hands shimmied down to unzip his pants he almost came on the spot. Her slender hand caressed the bulge where his cock lay nestled painfully in his jeans, begging for freedom.

 

“Oh, Austin.”

 

Her soft moans unglued him. His hand cupped her breast while his tongue traced along her jaw before plunging into her mouth to swallow her cries.

 

“Boss?” Mac’s assistant yelled from the front room.

 

“Shit,” Mac said, breaking the connection with Hannah and using his body to shield her. “Be right there. Wait for me in the truck, Harry.”

 

“Yes, sir.”

 

“Sorry about that. Forgot he was coming back to pick me up.”

 

Hannah placed a quick kiss on his lips before moving back to the counter. “It’s okay. We both have things to do. Sex will just have to wait, I guess.”

 

He bit off a curse. He sure the hell couldn’t wait much longer. “I’ll pick you up for the barbeque tomorrow. Okay, brat?”

 

“Only if you want to, Austin. I can always call your sister for a ride.”

 

“Yeah, right. So she can tell my mom and I get my ass chewed out for not picking you up. Dream on, sweetheart. Be ready by 11:30.”

 

“Sure will.”

 

“I mean it. If you’re not ready when I get here then I take the food and leave you behind.”

 

She laughed. “Get out of here before I throw something else at you,” she warned, her smile softening her face, her pretty skin flushed and scraped from his kisses.

 

§
§
§
§

 

As promised, Mac stopped outside Hannah’s house blowing his horn at precisely 11:30. Hannah looked out the window, saw his impatient face and how he kept glancing out his windshield. She stepped back into the kitchen and busied herself with little chores. If Mac wanted her to go with him then he could very well come to the door like a gentleman and ring her bell.

 

The horn blew again.

 

She smirked. He must be getting so mad. Good. Served him right to think she can just be summoned by the honk of a horn.

 

A pounding on the front door declared her victorious, getting him to use his manners. “I’m coming,” she hollered nicely.

 

Hannah opened the front door to find Mac standing there, brows knitted, eyes dark, arms crossed over his chest. Dressed in light blue jean shorts and a white T-shirt snug enough to see his rippled abs, he filled her doorframe with that tanned muscular body. Her mouth watered, when she imagined kissing him from his chiseled jaw down that sexy body until she uncovered the package straining against his jeans.

 

“Didn’t you hear the damn horn?” he bellowed, interrupting her thoughts.

 

“Yes, I did. Come on in, Mac. I just have to get the food.”

 

He followed her to the kitchen. “Well, if you heard it why didn’t you come out?”

 

She picked up a large pan and handed it to him then placed two more pans on top. “I told you before. Ladies don’t respond to horns. You want to pick me up then you come to my door. Let’s go,” she said, slipping past him and grabbing her purse. “We don’t want to arrive late.”

 

“If we do,” he complained, “it’d be your fault.”

 

She opened the front door for him and he stomped through it to the driveway.

 

“Aidan,” Mac yelled. “Get out and open the door for Hannah while I put these in the back of the truck.”

 

Aidan jumped out quickly, offering her a shy smile.

 

“Thank you very much,” she told him when he opened the passenger door and she slid in. She faced Ryan and Luke while Aidan climbed back in. “Hello, boys.”

 

“Hi, Hannah. Did you cook again?” Luke asked excitedly.

 

“I sure did. I hope you like it.”

 

“Dad skipped breakfast because you were cooking and he wanted to save room for your food,” Luke confessed when Mac got back in the truck.

 

“Oh, he did, did he?” Hannah beamed and glanced at Mac.

 

He sent her a withering look.

 

“Listen up, guys. Last warning before we get to Grandma’s. If any of you act up then we all leave. Got that?”

 

The three boys mumbled “yes”.

 

“Does that go for me too?” Hannah teased.

 

“That especially goes for you, brat,” he confirmed but cracked a grin. “The food smells great, by the way.”

 

“Thank you,” she said sweetly.

BOOK: A Place to Call Home
9.6Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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