Page 21 of Hank

"It really is," Hank said, turning his attention to Collin. "But that’s not important right now. Coach Bush is ready to get started."

"Yes, sir," her son said. "And thanks again for letting me make up the test this morning." Then he was off, leaving her with the man that if things had been different, she’d have found the nearest flat surface to take care of their unfinished business.

But she couldn’t do that. Not now. Not ever.

"What are you doing?" she said in a low, harsh rush, all while peering around to make sure no one was close enough to hear them. Wouldn’tthisget the phone tree ringing off the hook.

"We need to talk," he said just as low, without any of the harshness. In fact, he sounded…

Not happening. Remember?

"We have nothing to?—"

He moved in closer, cutting her words off in a hard swallow.

"Yes, we do." That intense look she’d reveled in while in the back of his truck had returned, filling her with trepidation at how much she wanted to act on that look. "And you know it." He took a frowning glance around while grabbing hold of her upper arm. "Come on."

She’d had no intention of letting him drag her off. But intentions didn’t seem to matter to Hank as he led her across the length of the gym toward the open double doors —past players, coaches, the other parents, and, worse yet, a way too interested Carolyn whose narrowed eyes met hers. Hopefully, she appeared as nonchalant to their rapt audience as she’d attempted.

Seriously, what else was she supposed to do? Cause a scene?

And wouldn’t Carolyn just lovethat. Withthatwoman at the helm of the phone tree, it wouldn’t take long for theyou won’t believe what I saw at the school gymbad-mouthing to start.

Small town…

Gossip…

Questions would be asked.

And for those who didn’t ask, speculation would run rampant.

"Can you at least slow down?" she grumbled, doubling her steps, while trying to keep the bag holding the clothes she’d planned on changing into from falling off her shoulder. If she’d had on her sneakers...

"No, I can’t." She caught the scowl he threw over his shoulder at her, before he faced forward and kept going. "I’m not taking any chances you’ll bolt again."

"Fine." When she had him alone, he was going to get an earful about his highhandedness.

Their long trek—more like a gauntlet with the number of eyes on them—ended with them leaving the gym completely. At least those few moments had given her time to shore up her resolve to nix any idea he might have of picking up where they’d left off.

"Hank," she finally said as he opened the first door they came to. "That was completely?—"

"Wait," he grumbled, while pulling her inside the dark room after him.

Oh, she’d wait, all right. But he wasn’t going to like it.

Light flooded around them as he shut the door then turned the lock. All her complaints were put on hold when she ended up turning in place and frowning at her surroundings, before once more glaring at him.

"The janitor’s closet?" Not what she’d expected. "Why?—"

Every argument dried up in her mouth at the look he leveled on her. That, along with the quick glance she’d managed at the front of the man’s sweats.

Oh, god, this is not good.

It was especially not good when he took hold of her limp arms, turned her, and pushed her back up against the closed door. Then it became even worse when he slowly blanketed her heaving self with his tense, muscled, hard—thank you gray sweatpants—body.

"This is why," he growled out. His mouth on hers finished blanking out her mind. Nothing mattered but Hank and her own need to mold herself to him.

His groan filled her mouth as she let her bag drop from her shoulder and slung her arms up around his neck, pulling on himto get as close as she could. He answered her unspoken demand by grabbing her ass and hoisting her higher until they were chest to chest.

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