Page 37 of Hank

"Yeah, I guess he?—"

"Less prickly, though." Definitely digging. And he was loving it.

"I beg your pardon?"

"No need to apologize."

"I wasn’t apol?—"

"And if you wanted your way on something," he told her leaning forward to get closer to her. "I would never doubt you would come up with a way to get it done. Even if you had to use a little trickery."

"I have no idea what you’re talking about." She couldn’t pull off the affronted attitude. The woman knew her talents.

"Right." But he let her get away with it anyhow. "So, what do you propose we do now?" He knew exactly what he’d like to do, but that wasn’t on the table. Although he had spied one in the corner that’d work quite nicely. He held in a groan at his own thoughts.

Now she has me making up cheesy lines in my head.

And those didn’t work. Not on the woman currently brushing past him and heading back down the stairs to stand in the middle of the floor.

"First," she said, reaching for the mop handle, "you’re going to help me get the rest of this water up."

"Okay," he said, shrugging out of his jacket and laying it across the stair rail. "I can do that."

"Good. Thank you," she said, her tone clipped and professional. And wasn’t that cute?

"You’re welcome," he said, rolling up his sleeves. "But then, we talk."

12

"I think it’s dry now."

Jo glanced over at Hank leaning against the dryer. The floor had been fine five minutes ago, but she’d needed more time to, well, keep from having the discussion heandher son wanted them to have.

"Okay…" She took her time meandering over to the table she used to fold laundry and hopped onto it, letting her legs dangle.

"Is that table pretty sturdy?"

"We arenothaving sex." Although it probablywouldhold them.

"Did I say anything about sex?" he asked, grinning at her. "I was just going to sit beside you on it." He walked over and stood in front of her and stared down into her eyes. "If that’s okay."

"Oh, um, sure." He didn’t even have to do anything but stand there and she wanted him. How crazy was that? And hownothappening. "Sorry."

"Nothing to be sorry about," he said, grinning, then sitting about a foot away from her. Okay, he was serious about talking. "Can I ask you a question?"

"That’s why we’re here," she groused, her eyes taking in the basement and stairs, before focusing back on Hank.

"Since Collin obviously approves of us being together, the only other obstacle I see is our ages." Her heart sank at that. He thought she was too old too. "At least for you." And then it started beating normally again—maybe even a little fast. "So, is it my age that’s the problem or yours?"

"Both."

"Why?" He honestly looked perplexed.

"I’m eleven years older than you."

"So."

So was not a response. At least not a helpful one.

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