Second Chances (10 page)

That was all it took.  He was hooked.  She read with…passion.  And as spellbound as he was, he forgot why he had come.  All he knew was that he needed to listen to her read this story.  It was as though his very life depended on it.  Before he realized it, she was done for the night.

“Okay ladies,” she said affectionately, “tomorrow night we pick up where we left off.”  She gingerly lifted each girl from the bed, wincing at times, and hugged her and spun her toward the door.  “Time to go to your room to sleep, then I have to meet Gavin downstairs.”

Feeling sheepish, Gavin tried to make a hasty retreat.  Naturally he was spotted.  Rory was smiling at him and offered a little wave.  Placing a finger over his lips, he slowly backed away and headed to the study.  The fire was going really well.  Sierra would be here any time to set up.  He closed his eyes.  And soon after that, Hannah would be lying naked on the massage table.  He squeezed his eyes even more tightly shut, trying not to picture that image.  It was no good.  Hannah naked was all he could imagine.  Turning away from the fire, he sighed.

“You wanted to see me,” Hannah said poking her head in the door.

He nearly groaned audibly. 
Interesting choice of words.  Of course he wanted to see her.  That was precisely what he was imagining.  Instead he pulled himself together and tried to maintain a professional manner as he grabbed the robe he had lying over the back of the nearest leather chair.

“This is for you.  You’ll need to undress and come back down wearing only that.”  He passed her the robe and watched in surprise as her eyes narrowed.

“Huh,” she began, licking her lips as she prepared to give him a tongue-lashing.  “That didn’t take long.”

“What?”  He asked, genuinely confused.

“I know what you must think of me, the way I negotiated my stay, and my pay, the way I moved in with a complete stranger.  I’m sure you’ll find it hard to believe that I’m not that type of girl.”  She folded her arms across her chest angrily. 

“And just what type of girl is that?”  He asked.  Instantly, he realized what she was thinking and tried to hide his laughter.  “So, you’re not the type of girl who likes a massage when she injures her back?”  He raised his eyebrows in challenge.

She swallowed.  This was going to be one of those awkward moments when she was going to have to eat her words.  Damn.  “A massage?”  She asked weakly.  “This is about a massage?”

“Yes, Hannah,” Gavin said.  “A woman will be here in a few minutes to give you a massage.”  He watched her emotions radically change and was pleased that he was the one pampering her and making her so happy.

Hannah squealed.  She couldn’t help it.  Never one to hide her feelings, she squealed and then crossed the distance between them to throw her arms around him and plant a kiss on his cheek.  “Thank you,” she said, wincing some as she pulled back.  “I’ve never had a massage before.”  Then she headed straight for the stairs, leaving Gavin to stand there in surprise, lightly touching the spot where she had planted her grateful impromptu kiss.

Moments after introducing them, Gavin excused himself so that he might enjoy a glass of wine and wind down on the patio.  He stretched some before the outdoor fireplace and tried not to think about what was happening in his study and how much he would prefer to be there.  It was no use.  He had seen Hannah hesitantly enter the study wearing only a bathrobe as he spoke to Sierra. 

Her bare feet, slender ankles and part of her shapely calves were left exposed beneath the white robe.  Upon seeing him standing there, she had blushed a shade of pink that crept into her cheeks.  He had excused himself then, slipping out one of the French doors onto the patio with his wine. 

Scowling at him, Sierra shooed him away as Hannah dropped the robe and climbed under the sheet on the table.  He felt like a naughty schoolboy.  Part of him wanted to give her that massage himself, put into practice his unused skills, and just touch her.  He wanted to feel her skin beneath his hands, see it glisten with the oils he would knead into her sore muscles, feel it warm to his touch.  He wanted to hear her moan in pleasure.  And that was what prevented him from acting on his desires. 

How many times today had he had to remind himself that she was supposed to be punished and humiliated so that he could recover from his divorce, get women out of his system once and for all?  It was no use.  Every time he looked at Hannah, he found himself desiring her, admiring her even.  He sighed.  Glancing at his watch, he realized that she was only fifteen minutes into her massage.

Standing, he moved toward the French doors he had exited earlier.  They still stood open.  He couldn’t help it.  He had to at least watch.  Slowly, silently, he slipped through the doors and moved to one of the leather chairs near the fireplace.  Careful not to make a sound, he sat and put a finger to his lips as Sierra frowned at him.  He was paying her.  If he wanted to be in the room, he damn well should be able to.  Leaning back, he watched in fascination.

She sensed him though she didn’t see him.  Somehow, whenever he was near, her body knew.  She had felt him watching her while she read to the girls.  And now, Hannah was certain he was in the room watching Sierra thoroughly massage every inch of her body. 

“You are very tense,” Sierra commented as she rubbed the area between Hannah’s shoulder blades, the area that Hannah had so diligently tried to stretch out after her near accident on the stairs.

Emitting a light laugh, Hannah responded.  “I’m not surprised.”  She was not one to reveal much about her personal life.  It was that, personal.

“Let me know if I hurt you,” Sierra commanded as she pressed extra hard, working to relieve the tension in Hannah’s taut shoulders.

Gavin leaned forward and watched.  Hannah’s knuckles tensed.  She was most definitely in pain.  He could see her bottom lip as she bit down on it.  Still she refused to complain.  Instead, she lay there and took what was being dealt.  He was fascinated.  This was a woman who would not easily be broken, probably because she was used to hurt.  He sank deeply in his seat.  He really needed to ponder what he had seen.  This could change everything.

It was their second day living together, one day before Hannah would be expected to report to Gavin’s office for work.  She felt the need to accomplish as much as possible in what time she had.  Rising early, she showered and woke the girls for breakfast.  To her delight, there was plenty of food in the kitchen.  Normally on a Sunday, she would cook a big breakfast, eggs, home fries, toast or cinnamon rolls, hot chocolate.  She smiled.  There would be time for that next week.  Now she had to grab some cereal and head to the nearest Lowe’s or Home Depot.

There were at least a few items that she knew she needed immediately.  Walking purposefully around the store, she picked up the
spackle she would require to fix the holes, some sand paper, and the spackle spreader thingy.  So what if she didn’t know every tool’s proper name.  She had watched enough home improvement shows that she knew what she was doing.

Finally, she and the girls were in the area that she knew would require the greatest amount of time: the paint department.  Initially she had hoped to go with something that reminded her of the beachfront homes she had cleaned as a teenager in Wilmington, but she knew Gavin’s house was far too formal for her to simply wainscot the walls and paint a shade of pale sky blue.

Frowning, she thought about how this room should be Gavin’s.  If she did a nice enough job on it, maybe he would be able to use it when she left.  Smiling, she picked a tinted Venetian plaster.  She’d make this room grand enough to be the master bedroom as it was intended.  Confident in her choice, she moved to the next aisle and found curtain rod assemblies and…curtains.  After a trip to
Bed, Bath and Beyond
she’d really be in business.

As she went through the check out, however, she began to fill with one nagging doubt.  She wasn’t entirely certain of her ability to install the plaster. 

“Wow,” the woman running the register exclaimed, “I’ve heard this can be a bit tricky.  Are you doing it yourself?”  She gestured to the plaster.

Biting her lower lip, Hannah answered, “I’m not really sure yet.”

“Well,” the woman began, “when in doubt, call in an expert.”  And with a flick of her wrist she had directed Hannah to the expert board where craftsmen posted business cards attesting to their given skills.

Selecting one, Joe, she studied the card.  He claimed to be an expert at a variety of trades, including…working with the plaster in question.  Glancing at her watch, Hannah decided that any craftsman worth his salt would be taking calls by ten on a Sunday, unless of course, he was at church.

The payphone rang twice before he picked up.  And as soon as he was given the address and the impression that there was a lot of work to be done if he gave a fair estimate and was ready to start that day, Joe agreed to meet her at the house after lunch.  Everything was moving along very smoothly.  In fact, the only downside she could see was that she hadn’t actually been given a budget by Gavin, or any money.

Pacing the study was becoming an ugly part of his life.  Or at least it had since she moved in.  There, he was finally working up to some anger.  That’s what he needed.  How does she take off with the girls and not leave a note or any indication where she was going or when she would be back?  A permanent scowl seemed to have taken residence on his face.  She had no cell phone, so he couldn’t call her.  She had a vehicle that he suspected was unreliable at best.  What if she broke down?  Did she even have this number in case of an emergency?

Just as he seemed likely to wear a path in the hardwood floor, he heard the sound of the front door opening and the girls rushing happily up the stairs, presumably to their rooms.  When he opened the door, he found Hannah making a second trip in from the vehicle with more supplies.

Before she could take her light jacket off, he was growling at her.  “Where have you been?”  He demanded.

Immediately her eyebrow arched defensively.  “Today is Sunday.  My day off, as I recall.”  She planted her hands on her hips and eyed him angrily.

Under the weight of her reproachful stare, Gavin shifted uneasily.  “Yes,” he said more quietly.

“Am I to report to you even on my day off?”  She challenged.

He was defeated.  He had overreacted and he knew it.  Did she have to rub it in?  “No,” he said slowly.  He saw her soften some, confident of her position.  He cleared his throat and straightened.  “It is just common courtesy when people live together to let the other people know where they are going and when they can be expected home.”  He stared at her evenly.  “I mean, you don’t have a cell, and who knows when that vehicle of yours might just quit on you.  How do I know when to worry?”  And he swallowed hard after that admission.  Maybe she wouldn’t catch it.

Her face relaxed as she tried to hide a pleased smile.  “You were worried?  Is that what this is all about?”  She sat down on the stairs and sighed.  “I never meant for you to worry, Gavin.”  She lowered her head for a moment, preparing to make an admission of her own.  “I’ve never had anyone to report to, anyone to worry over me.  I didn’t think you would care.”  And then in a lower voice still, “Brett never did.”

Slowly, Gavin made his way over to where she sat and lowered himself to join her.  “You never told Brett where you were going?”  He found that aspect incredulous.  It was not at all like his marriage had been; which was why it had been such a coup that he had been able to keep all the massage classes a secret.

Sighing, she said, “He was never home.  I never had had to tell him where I was and I never knew where he was.  He did his thing and I did…everything else.”  Hannah turned to face him then, and the depth of sorrow in her eyes nearly broke his heart.  She was about to share more, revealing more truths about her life when the doorbell rang.

Instantly, Hannah hopped up and bit her lower lip as she answered the door.  Gavin was beginning to see a pattern here.  This was her “I-may-be-in-trouble look.”  Smirking he said, “Care to introduce me to your friend?”

“The name’s Joe, sir.  Yer lady friend hired me.  Said there was some work to be done and if the quote was fair and the work good, she’d give me plenty of it.”  He shook Gavin’s hand firmly.

Looking at Hannah with both brows arched, he said, “Hannah?”

“Well, Joe,” Hannah said with a nervous giggle, “you are certainly eager.”  She turned to Gavin briefly and offered a weak smile before giving her full attention once more to the handy man.  “What if I show you to the first room, briefly explain my vision, give you an opportunity to make an estimate, and I’ll let Mr. Myers know what’s going on.”

Gavin stood there with a smile on his face, completely dumbfounded.  She seemed to have everything under control, which he had mixed feelings over.  Once rooted to the spot, he now decided to blend into the scenery and hide in his sanctuary.

Hannah caught him.  “I’ll be in to talk to you in the study in a few minutes, okay?”  Then she looped her arm through Joe’s and led him up the stairs, all the while explaining her ideas for the bedroom and the particular problems she saw with the room.

She was prattling on all the way up the stairs, and she had her arm through his.  For some reason, Gavin found that particularly disturbing.  He soon caught himself pacing…again and sighed before dropping into his chair and trying to concentrate on some of the files he brought home intending to work with over the weekend.  It was no use.  Instead he would just massage his temples until Hannah came to speak with him.  This had better be good.

As she walked back up the stairs, Hannah had seen Gavin’s scowl.  He was moody.  It really surprised her because when they first met he had given her the impression of being so even keeled, so reserved.  And ever since she had been here she had experienced more than a few instances where the many facets of his personality were displayed, and not always to his advantage.  Clearly, Gavin had issues.  Luckily, she had patience.  She could work him through it.

“Well,” she began as she watched Joe make notes and pull out a calculator.  “Is it that bad?  And you should know that I do intend to do some of the work myself and work along side you as much as possible on the rest.  You have some very useful skills that I would love to develop.”  She sighed.  “I mean, Mr. Myers won’t always be there to foot the bill for me, you know?”

Joe nodded sympathetically.  “I’ll let you work with me, Miss Hannah.  I’ll teach you what I know.”  He turned his attention back to his notes and scribbled some more.  Then he plucked away at his calculator with a furrowed brow until he was somehow satisfied.  “How’s this look?”

Hannah swallowed, afraid of what she might have to ask Gavin for.  Slowly, she reached for the estimate.  Her eyes tracked down the page until she found the total.  She tried not to blink.

Having noticed, Joe cleared his throat.  “That’s my estimate for the whole house,” he said quietly.  He tucked his head a little, shyly.  “Just sos you know.”

Suddenly, it didn’t look so bad.  Hannah tugged at her chin, careful not to give too much away.  “I think we can work with that.”  She did a mental tally of how much she would be spending on linens and nodded confidently.  “So, when can you start?”

“Well, ma’am,” he said smiling.  “I see you have everything we need to patch these walls.  And I happen to have the rest of the afternoon free.  We’ll have this room in shape in no time.”

A smile spread across Hannah’s face.  She was going to like working with Joe.  He was a simple southern guy, very genuine.  “Just let me go talk to Ga…Mr. Myers and I’ll be back and ready to work.”

With a very light heart, she sauntered down the stairs, estimate in hand, ready to argue her case with the almighty Gavin if need be.  True, she had little experience in these matters, but if this were one of her renovating shows on television, her estimate would have been considered a steal.