Page 36 of Tamed to Be Messy

“Not a problem. I didn’t intend to stay. Just wanted to make sure Hannah was okay.”

His expression shifts to concern. “Was it that bad?”

I busy myself with folding Hannah’s afghan, which is still warm from her. “Her friend Pete had to call a sheriff over to help. The owner tore into her, big time.”

Graham lets out a soft snicker. “That’s Hannah. Always ruffling somebody’s feathers.”

She’s definitely ruffled mine, but not the way Graham means. I’ll keep that thought to myself.

“I better get going. Tell Hannah I said goodbye.”

Graham nods at first then stops me before I reach the door. “Why don’t you join us?”

Is he asking as a bro, or as a big brother who wants to make sure nothing is going on between his sister and his best friend?

I hold my fist to my mouth as I clear my throat. “I don’t want to intrude on family time.”

Hannah walks out of her bedroom, clad in a green dress that ends mid-calf and is covered in tiny pink flowers. Immediately,I’m entranced by the way the skirt swirls around her legs in a graceful dance.

Remembering her brother is standing right there, I snap my attention up to her face, only to notice how cute she looks in a headband that pushes her hair back, encircling her head with soft curls. My desire to touch them makes my fingers twitch.

“That’s what I told him. He should join us.” She slips on pink flip-flops that show off her pink polish.

I haven’t seen Hannah in anything but those clogs she wears with her scrubs. Even her feet are beautiful. Maybe breakfast is a risky idea. I should find a way out of this, but when I start to protest, Graham silences me with a hand on my shoulder.

“I agree. It’s been a while since you’ve come to breakfast with the clan.”

Hannah grins. “There. It’s settled.”

She may think it’s decided, but I’ve known Graham long enough to read between the lines. One of his strengths is monitoring possible threats, which makes him a stellar lifeguard—he has a knack for anticipating danger. And that’s precisely what he’s doing now, evaluating potential endangerment to his sister.

That would be me.

We follow Hannah out the door and to the parking lot. Once I’m in my truck, I pick up my cell, mentally composing a text about remembering that I had to do something or be somewhere, but nothing sounds believable.

Guess it’s time to face the music. Or in my case, one of the biggest tests of my life—to pretend I’m not attracted to Hannah when every fiber of my being is drawn to her like a force of nature.

Hands-off-Hannah, Hands-off-Hannah, Hands-off-Hannah…

Normally,pancakes are not part of my diet. But when Anna McCarthy makes them, you don’t dare say no. One, because she’ll stare you down until you accept the rather large stack she’s handing you, and two, because they are the best pancakes you will ever taste in this lifetime.

So, I make the allowance. It’s not like I’m on the beach every day like I used to be. And with this shoulder, I haven’t even been able to jog until recently. And unlike Graham, who’s wolfing down his second serving, I’m taking my time. I can only indulge so much. Now that my shoulder is feeling more normal, I intend to go for a run on the beach after this food settles.

Hannah only has scrambled eggs on her plate. I overheard her tell her mother she only eats protein in the morning. Part of her healthy lifestyle, I assume. Another detail I’m learning about her.

My efforts not to stare at her are seriously challenged as she describes what happened yesterday, including the verbal tirade Marcus slung at her.

I force myself to occasionally look away, or I’ll appear entranced, which I totally am.

“But Nick stepped in, ready to clobber the guy.”

My gaze connects with hers, which softens as if to thank me. I didn’t think she noticed, to be honest. She and Pete had their hands full with Bandit.

Graham, who’s still red from the neck up over Hannah’s story, assessed me, a curious expression on his face. Liam drills Hannah for more details, but she shuts him down with a warning glare. Surprisingly, her father gives me an appreciative look that makes something in my chest twist.

Although I find it amusing, I’m glad she left the part out about me making her dinner and falling asleep on her couch for the night…with her. I don’t think her father would have appreciated that.

Anna casts her motherly gaze my way, checking out the status of my plate. “Ready for more?” She’s poised in her seat, ready to pass the stack waiting for consumption.

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