I Want to Hold Your Hand (39 page)

She took his hand. “Come sit with me.”

CHAPTER 27

Myles Johansen has been a godsend as Homer has gotten older and more fragile. He comes to the house to check on Homie at least once a week, and we talk at length about how I’ll know the time is right to let Homer go. I don’t want to make the decision about me when it should be about him, but it’s hard to overlook the fact that when he goes, I’ll truly be alone. I’ll be all that’s left of the little family I once treasured. Myles asked me to have dinner with him, but I’m not ready for that. I know it’s been almost seven years, but I suppose when I’m ready I’ll know it. At least I hope I will . . .

—From the diary of Hannah Abbott Guthrie, age thirty-five

N
olan didn’t fight her when she led him to the sofa and tugged him down next to her.

She deposited the sleeping puppy on an oversized pillow and turned to Nolan.

Staring straight into the fire, his face was flat and devoid of emotion.

“You don’t have to say a word if you don’t want to.” She took his hand and curled her fingers around his. “You once told me you’d be satisfied just to hold my hand, and that’s how I feel, too.” She brought their joined hands to her lips. “This is more than enough for now if it’s all you’re able to give.”

He ran his free hand through his hair over and over again as the silence stretched between them. “I’ve been ashamed of my family all my life. I don’t know how to share that part of me with you, because I’ve never shared it with anyone.”

“You don’t need to be ashamed of anything, Nolan. Everyone in this town respects you for the person you are, the friend you are, the businessman you are. Nothing you tell me about your family will change the way I feel about you.”

He expelled a harsh laugh. “You say that now.”

“I say that unconditionally.”

Nolan leaned forward, resting his forehead on his other hand. “He drinks all the time. He always has, but in the last few years, he’s been expecting me to pay for his habit. I cut him off recently, and he’s not taking it well.” He turned his head and looked at her for the first time since his father interrupted their evening. “You know the house plans I showed you?”

Riveted by his words, Hannah nodded.

“I haven’t built it because I’ve been giving him all the money I would’ve put into the house. Go ahead and say it. I’m an idiot and an enabler and at the very least a huge fool.”

“You’ve been a good son to a man who doesn’t deserve you.”

“I’ve never known him to have a job. In my entire life, I’ve never seen him work. Can you imagine that with a father like yours who goes to work every single day even though he probably doesn’t have to anymore?”

“No, I can’t, but again, there’s no comparison between your father and you, who works six or seven days a week and has for as long as I can remember. You worked after school, weekends, summers.”

“Fortunately, I had my grandfather to show me how to be a man, because my own father certainly never did.”

“Your grandfather taught you to be one hell of a man, who is well respected and well regarded by everyone in this town. I remember your grandfather so well. He came to everything at school. Never missed a game or a play or a band concert.”

Nolan pressed the heel of his hand to his eyes. “He’s the only reason my childhood wasn’t a total disaster. He and families like yours that took me in and showed me how it was supposed to be. You have no idea how much the nights I spent at your house meant to me. Your family and Caleb’s . . . You all saved me.”

Hannah subtly wiped away a tear that escaped despite her best effort to contain it. “Where was your mother?”

“That’s another lovely story. Her drug of choice is heroin. Last I heard she was selling herself online to pay for her habit. I haven’t seen her in years. Thank goodness.” He shook his head. “Earlier today I was caught up in the fantasy about the wife and kids I want to have. Who’d want to marry me and have kids with me knowing what they’d be getting with my shitty genes?”

“I would.”

“Don’t say that to make me feel better, Hannah. I don’t want or need your pity.”

“I don’t pity you. I love you, and I’ll marry you and have your children, and I’d do both those things without hesitation.”

“You shouldn’t say that without knowing what you’re getting into.”

“Is there more you haven’t told me?”

“That wasn’t enough?”

“It was more than enough, but is there anything else?”

“No.”

“Then I know what I’m getting into and my answer hasn’t changed. If you don’t believe me, ask me.”

“Ask you what?”

“Ask me to marry you.”

“Not like this. Not when I’m all wound up about him coming here.”

“You pick the time and the place. You already know what my answer will be.”

He extended his arm, and Hannah curled up to him, relieved that he hadn’t left, that he’d let her into his private pain. “I’m not going to hold you to that if you change your mind.”

“I’m not going to.”

“Hannah . . .”

“Nolan.”

“
Hannah
.”

“
Nolan
.”

“What?”

“Can we go back to what we were doing before we were rudely interrupted?”

“What were we doing?” he said with a sweet smile that gave her hope he might believe her when she said she loved him unconditionally. “I don’t remember.”

Hannah moved slowly and carefully so she wouldn’t disturb Homer and straddled Nolan’s lap, wrapping her arms around his neck. With her lips hovering a fraction of an inch above his, she said, “It went something like this.”

 • • • 

Nolan called a little after two on Friday. “Are you guys ready?”

“I am,” Hannah said, “but Homer Junior isn’t interested in traveling in his crate.”

“It’s too far for you to hold him, and besides, if we don’t get him used to the crate, he’ll be spoiled rotten.”

“Um, yeah, about that . . .”

“Hannah . . .”

“I can’t stand to listen to him cry! All he does is cry in the crate.”

“That’s because if he keeps it up long enough, he knows you’re going to come rescue him.”

“He’s just a baby, Nolan. He needs to be with me.”

“Are you going to be like this with our babies, too?”

It was the first time all week he’d referred to the conversation they’d had on Sunday night. “Maybe . . .”

“How very lucky they’ll be to have you as their mother.”

“And you as their father.”

“I’ll be there to get you and the spoiled brat in a few minutes. Bring the crate even if you have no intention of using it.”

“Hear that, Homer? Daddy says we have to bring the crate.”

The puppy whimpered pitifully.

“Did you hear that?” she asked Nolan.

“I heard him. Bring the crate.”

“Hurry up. We’re ready to go.”

“Be there in ten.”

Hannah’s emotions had been all over the place this week, ever since she laid her heart and future on the line to give Nolan what he needed. He’d slept in her bed every night and had made passionate love to her. He’d helped with the puppy and even cleaned up his share of puppy pee.

Despite his close proximity in bed and out, she could tell he was a million miles from her, reliving the encounter with his father and trying to figure out how she could possibly mean what she’d said.

Hannah planned to spend this entire weekend proving to him every way she could that she’d meant it and that she wanted a life with him. She looked forward to learning more about his passion for racing and to meeting his friends on the team.

He came up the stairs fifteen minutes later and came in the front door without knocking, like she’d told him to. “Ready?”

“Yep.” Hannah handed him the crate. “All his stuff is inside.”

“See, it’s good for something.”

“Homer says that’s all it’s good for. Doncha, buddy?”

Homer licked her chin and made her laugh.

“He’s got you so wrapped around his paw already. I’ve lost complete control of this situation.”

“Your mistake, my friend,” she said over her shoulder as she brushed by him, “was thinking you ever had control in the first place.”

“Ain’t that the truth?”

 • • • 

Nolan let his eyes drop to the sassy sway of her ass, which was covered in perfectly faded denim. She’d brushed against him and set every nerve ending in his body on fire. That’s what she did to him.

He’d thought endlessly about what she’d said to him on Sunday night and had been nearly crippled by the painful yearning to take her at her word before she wised up and changed her mind.

After he checked to make sure the front door was locked, he followed her to the truck and stashed the crate and her duffel bag in the back of his truck. The thought of Hannah as his wife and the mother of his children filled him with a kind of longing he hadn’t often experienced.

Though he wouldn’t have blamed her if she had, she hadn’t run away in disgust when she heard about his degenerate parents or his less-than-stellar bloodline. If anything, she’d done the exact opposite and stunned him with her willingness to overlook all the ugliness in his life. His father was right about one thing, Nolan thought as he buckled his seatbelt. She was far too good for him.

“Just so you aren’t disappointed, the place we’re staying isn’t fancy, but they’ll allow Junior in the room.”

“I don’t care where we stay. As long as my baby Homer can stay with us, I’ll be fine.”

“You’re going to make him into a total mama’s boy. You know that, don’t you?”

“Of course I do. That’s the goal.”

Nolan laughed at the face she made at him, as if he’d said the stupidest thing in the history of stupid things. She was so far gone over that little ball of fur it wasn’t even funny, but he loved seeing her glowing with excitement and pleasure. At the end of the day, her happiness was the only thing he cared passionately about. And knowing he had made her very happy with the puppy made him happy, too.

During the nearly two-hour ride to New Hampshire, she peppered him with questions about the car he drove, the team, racing, the track, how fast he really went and about the safety measures they employed. She was particularly fixated on that last part, which made him wonder what she was really thinking. Whatever it was, she didn’t share it with him.

They arrived in time for pizza with the team. Along with Skeeter, who was their chief body guy, Hannah met Dave, the crew chief, the other mechanic, the pit crew and a couple of younger guys who were introduced as the team “bitches,” a term that made both young men laugh and blush.

“We basically run and fetch,” the younger of the two, Carl, said.

The pizza was tasty and the beer cold. Homer Junior lay curled up in Hannah’s lap, completely out of sight of the restaurant staff, who no doubt would’ve balked if they’d known he was in their establishment. Even though she was the only woman in the group, Hannah more than held her own with Nolan’s friends, teasing and sparring with the guys like she’d known them forever.

“You’re a good sport,” Deke, one of the pit crew guys, said as the party was breaking up for the night.

“I have seven brothers, Deke,” she replied. “There’s nothing you can throw at me that I haven’t heard before.”

“She’s a keeper, Nolan,” said Deke, who was already more than halfway in love with her.

Nolan put his arm around her. “Believe me, I know.”

They headed for the hotel, which was actually more of a motel, with rows of doors facing the parking lot. He wished he’d thought to book something better than the place where they normally stayed when racing at Riverside. Hannah deserved the best of everything.

“Sorry the place is kind of dumpy.”

“Is it clean?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s all that matters. Don’t worry about it. Not every weekend can be the Candlewick Inn.”

“I wish it could be.”

“We’re here together, and we have Homer. What else do we need?”

Nolan deposited their bags inside the door. “A Jacuzzi and a fireplace would be nice.”

“It’s got a bed,” Hannah said suggestively. “A really big bed.”

“That’s about all it has.”

“Like I said, what else do we need?”

Her words shot straight to his cock, which hardened against his fly. “I’ll take the brat out to pee.”

“Don’t call him that,” Hannah said, sprinkling kisses all over blissful Homer’s face.

Nolan had never imagined a scenario in which he’d be jealous of a nine-pound puppy. “Hand him over.”

“Go with Daddy and do your business, and then you can sleep right next to me.”

“He’s sleeping in the crate.”

“He’s sleeping with me.”

Nolan clipped the leash on Homer’s tiny collar. “
Crate
.”

“With me or I’m not sleeping with you.”

If he didn’t think she was so damned adorable, he would’ve dug into the argument. But he knew a losing battle when he saw one. “Come on,
Homer
. Let’s go outside so we can both get some of Mommy’s attention.”