He laughed. “After this morning, getting the tree back hardly seems like an effort.”
Her cheeks flushed at the compliment. “So, it was a good Christmas?”
“It was the best Christmas.” He sat down next to her, letting their toes touch. “I think you may have made a believer of Jonathan.”
“That’s because it’s undeniable.” She climbed onto his lap. “I’m crazy about you, Will Thorne.”
He loved when he said his name like that. “And I you, Hannah Abbott.”
She cupped his face, and her expression softened, becoming shy. “Hannah Abbott-Thorne.”
Wow. His heart skipped a beat. “Really?”
She looked up, and their eyes locked. He understood everything—everything they hadn’t said, didn’t need to say. Her lips came down to his, and in all his life, Will had never felt so loved. Hannah had seen behind the curtain. She understood the burden that came with the Thorne name, and she wanted to bear it with him.
“Really,” she said, a gleam behind her eyes.
“Best. Christmas. Ever.” He grinned and planted a giant, wet kiss on her forehead. “Can I give you a present now?”
He leaned over and picked up the small jewelry box wrapped in red Santa paper.
“Clara wrapped this for you, didn’t she?” Hannah said, pulling at the fold gingerly as if she didn’t want to mess up the wrapping paper. It was pristine, after all.
He shook his head at her accusation. “‘Only neat corners will earn you a buck.’” He pitched his voice high and affected a Southern accent, wagging a finger at her. “Miss Lauraine’s gift-wrapping crash course.”
Her nose scrunched as the memory came back to her. She laughed and shook her head. “Is there anything you don’t remember?”
“Not when it comes to you.”
Another blush crept up her cheeks. She turned her focus to the box in her hands. The discerning look in her eyes made it clear his disguise had worked—she was expecting jewelry. She pulled the lid off, her eyes narrowing at the two laminated sound check passes. It had taken a lot of phone calls and owed favors, but he knew what it would mean to Hannah to meet Leonard Nulty. For all the times they’d seen Wilderness Weekend, for all the merch they’d bought, they had never met him.
She ran a finger over the passes, a smile lighting her face. “No freaking way.”
“I figured we might as well make a day of it,” he said, grinning. “Go to sound check and meet Leonard Nulty then head back that night for the best show of our lives. We also have a reservation at that restaurant you like near Astor Place.”
This time, when he looked at her, he was certain there were tears in her eyes—happy tears, he hoped.
“Best. Christmas. Ever,” she said, parroting his words. “Thank you.”
He wrapped his arms around her waist, his fingers digging into the thin fabric of her dress. “Anything for you, Mrs. Abbott-Thorne.”
Saying the words was so much more powerful than hearing Hannah say them. Desire rolled through him, his whole body alight. He pulled her into him. Their lips collided, hard and desperate. He inched her dress up over her hips, his hands sliding up against the sensitive skin of her thighs. Her fingers curled into the short hair at the back of his neck as she trailed kisses down his chest, her hands working the final buttons of his shirt. He pulled the dress over her head and she pushed him back until they lay on the floor. He quivered under her touch, goosebumps sprouting on his arms as she skimmed a hand down his chest, over his hips, and lower. Every touch was kindling, and Will wanted to burn.
Chapter 35Hannah
Hannah tapped her finger to the beat of the song playing in the restaurant. They had picked a restaurant near Penn Station to make it easier on her father, but that meant it was more crowded and that her father’s tardiness didn’t go unnoticed. The waitress had been giving them dirty looks for the last ten minutes, even though she and Will had ordered drinks and an appetizer—not that she thought she could stomach food right then.
“How was your dress fitting?” Will asked, though she knew he didn’t care. “Did you end up meeting the rest of the bridal party?”
Hannah shook her head. “No, Madison decided not to do that. I guess I’ll just meet them at the bridal shower or something.” She looked around the restaurant again but didn’t see her dad. “The dress is... well, I’m glad I’m not paying for it.”
“I’m sure you will look beautiful.”
“Honey, hey!” Her father strode up to the table with an apologetic smile. He was alone. She hadn’t expected anything else, but it still stung that her mother couldn’t be bothered to make the trip. He slid into the open spot next to Hannah. “Sorry I’m late. I should’ve taken the car.”
“You hate driving in New York,” she said, feeling herself relax. There was no preamble with her dad, not even now.
“Not as much as I hate taking the train anywhere.”
“That’s sacrilege on this side of the river,” Will said jokingly, taking a sweep of the restaurant.
Hannah laughed and turned to Will. “My mom once had this brilliant idea to take the train to Florida.”
“It took thirty hours,” her dad finished. “We could’ve walked there faster.”
“How old were you?” Will had a smile plastered across his face that was unmistakably filled with amusement, but then, this was a part of her that he’d never experienced. She could see why the way she played off her dad would delight Will. It was the basis for so much of her sense of humor.
“Thirteen. Stephanie was nine,” she said, remembering how Stephanie had run up and down the aisle for an hour straight. The other travelers in their car had been saints.
Hannah’s eyes wandered toward the door. A gaggle of women with bridesmaid sashes had just come in, and behind them were a few loners in business clothes. She tried to see them better through the gaps in the bridal party. They were only young businessmen, not her mother.
“She’s not coming.” Her dad frowned. “I’m sorry, Hannah. She just... needs a little more time.”
Hannah nodded and pulled a piece of bread onto her plate, afraid that if she made eye contact with her dad, she’d burst into a million little pieces.
“So, I didn’t get the full story last time,” her dad said with a hint of sarcasm that it was probably too soon for. “How did you two end up at the altar?”
