Page 22 of Twins for the Silver Foxes

I wasaware of my tendency to assess situations and come to traditional conclusions without any input from outside sources. I’d assumed Hannah would feel ashamed of our actions and ran with that thought in mind. “It’s been said that people sometimes feel I am judging them.” I winced at the bitter tang of regret rolling up. “It drove my ex crazy. I’m a traditional man.”

“Nothing you didlast night was traditional.” She wiggled her hips and scooted back onto the stool. “What’s this really about?”

All this sharingmade my nerves jangle but I forged ahead. “I enjoyed every minute of last night. I was worried you would have regrets. Last night was unconventional. But make no mistake, I have no misgivings about what we did.” Morals and respect demanded that I ensure Hannah felt at ease. The large kitchen shrank to nothing more than the island where we sat. Nothing mattered except knowing how she felt.

Both hands around her cup,she stared at me over the rim. “Arthur, I had a great time. It was single-handedly the best sex of my life.” A devilish grin appeared on her lips. “Maybe notsingle-handedly, but still.”

A laugh surgedout at her audacity. “You’re incredible. I’m glad we were able to please you.”

“Your ex isa bitch if she can’t see how amazing you are.” Hannah hopped off the stool and walked toward me. Her pajama shirt hung loose off one shoulder, exposing her clavicle and the hollow of her throat, along with the slightest curve of her breast. She reached my side and placed both hands hesitantly on mychest, the look in her eyes almost cautious, as though she needed permission. I nodded, and she rose onto her tiptoes.

Her lips skatedover mine and I returned the kiss, sliding my hand around her waist and pulling her between my knees. Her hands roamed my chest, then moved up to my face and into my hair. We stayed that way until we both ran out of air and came up gasping for breath.

“Isit okay if I ask about your ex?” Hannah traced the line of my jaw with her fingers. “What happened between you two?”

I’d never talkedabout it with anyone other than Scott and Ryland. They both sided with me, but they were men and my friends. Perhaps a new perspective was needed. “I am not much of a talker. My ex called me a brick. Said I was a cold and unfeeling bloke who refused to discuss his feelings.”

“Is she right?”Hannah asked it with a directness that I found refreshing. “A lot of men have trouble talking about their feelings. It’s not anything new.”

“You’re moreunderstanding than she ever was.” I tugged her close enough to wrap my arms around her waist. “When she left me, she blamed my lack of emotions, citing my callous demeanor as a hostile environment for our daughter to grow up in.”

Hannah stilled. “You have a daughter?”

“Yes.Her name is Megan. She’s nineteen.” My desire for Hannah to understand eclipsed my usual need to back away. “We’re estranged. I haven’t seen her in a few years.”

Her surprise ebbed.“I hate that for both of you. A girl needs her father. And you don’t strike me as the kind of man who would neglect his child if given the chance to know her.”

The factthat she understood me so well after so short a time deepened the connection between us. “I’ve reached out multiple times. All to no avail.”

“Tell me more.What brought you to America?” She grinned, adding, “That sounds like a line from a movie.”

“Pretty sure it is.”I relaxed my grip so she had the chance to leave if she wanted to. She stayed, and the warm feeling that started last night fisted around my heart. “I came here to attend university. Met three cool blokes at Harvard when they shoved us all into a room together.” Years of memories played out in my mind. “We shared everything.”

“Even women?”A cute wiggle of her hips slid her between my thighs.

I nodded.“A few times, yes. It isn’t a thing we do regularly though.”

“What about the fourth man?” Her scent muddled my head. She was all sweet heat and fiery passion. “What happened to him?”

My desire fizzledas grief took over. I dropped my hands to my legs to force space between us. Talking about Henry always put me in a foul mood, but I answered Hannah’s question because she deserved the whole story if she was to have any chance at understanding us and what we’d lost.

“He passed awayseveral years ago from an unexpected illness.”

Hannah sankonto the stool beside me and took my hand between both of hers. “I’m so sorry. I know that’s not an adequate condolence, but it’s all I have to offer. Death sucks, and I think it’s especially hard in situations when it happens suddenly or due to unforeseen circumstances.” Her lower lip trembled. “I lost my dad a few years ago. It’s not the same kind of grief, but I do understand.”

I stackedmy hand on top of hers, connecting us in a shared bond of grief and understanding. We shared our sadness and let each other linger in the moment. Emotions I’d put away years ago roared to the surface, blotting out the rest of the world. Stunned silence infiltrated my mind as I realized Hannah and I shared a natural connection through loss.

“What was he like?”She whispered the question as though to offer reverence.

I strokedmy thumb over her knuckles and rewound the years. Henry lived in my memories, his presence bright and full of life. “He was a traditionalist like me. We both wanted the same things. A wife and family.” I stopped and kissed her palm. I had always been more willing to explore than Henry. He knew aboutour sharing but never wished to participate. We’d respected his wishes and never gave him a hard time about his preferences.

“He sounds like a great man.”She squeezed my fingers. “Did he marry?”

“Yes.”Strangled memories ground out the word in a harsh rasp. “He found love and marriage and had a family. But it was not all happily ever after.”

Hannah’s headtipped to the side. “What do you mean? There’s more heartbreak beyond his death?”

Sadness threatened to drown me.“Henry’s tale is indeed tragic. His wife died in childbirth. The love of his life was taken to bring his family to fruition.”

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