And maybe she had.
Because when she looked up into his eyes, he pulled enough strength from her to visualize himself in the wheelhouse, just for the briefest moment. For the very first time since Brendan asked him to consider the job, he let himself grip the imaginary wheel, knowing he wouldn’t have to give it up the second Brendan came back from taking a leak or fixing something in the engine room. He’d have it from the time they set sail, right up until docking again. He imagined hearing his voice over the radio, movement on the deck.
Returning home having done everything right, earning the respect of the crew—that’s where he got stuck. He couldn’t see that for the life of him.
Fox banished the image as quickly as possible, clearing his throat hard. “Good night, Freckles.”
“Good night,” Hannah said warmly, going up on her toes to kiss his cheek. “What kind of music day did you have?”
He let out a breath, happy to be back on familiar ground. “Coming home after four days on the water? Mmm. Something about home.”
“‘Home.’ By Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeros.”
He barely kept his hand from lifting to brush back her hair. “I don’t know that one,” he managed.
“I’ll text it to you before I go to sleep. It’s perfect.”
Fox nodded. “You?”
She waggled her eyebrows and backed away. “‘Just One Kiss’ by the Cure.”
“Cute.”
Watching her cross the apartment in her short red dress, smiling knowingly at him over her bare shoulder before disappearing into the guest room, Fox started to wonder if living with Hannah could be dangerous in more ways than one.
Put yourself in the wheelhouse and imagine yourself enjoying it. The crew thinks of you as a good time, but there is a time for fun and a time for responsibility. They see that you recognize the difference.
Hannah thought if she dug around a little, she’d find something interesting or worthwhile under his surface? She’d find his long-buried ambition?
Maybe he should show her exactly what he did best.
He could blur every thought in her beautiful head, leaving only the certainty that he lived up to the hype. That he was only good for one thing.
Fox pictured Hannah on the other side of the wall, that red dress slipping down to her ankles. How her skin would flush if he walked through the door.
Just one kiss, he’d say, exhaling against the nape of her neck. Let’s see about that.
Don’t. Don’t fuck this up.
And he would. In a heartbeat. When the truth was . . . for the first time in a long, long time, he didn’t want a girl thinking he was only good for one thing. Hannah was like a leaf blower aimed right at his undisturbed pile of possibilities, and damn, the hope felt kind of good. At the same time, he wanted them stuffed back under the tarp. Protected.
Fox took a step in the direction of her room, replaying that kiss, imagining the bump of the bed and her cries filling the apartment. It was only by the grace of God that he made it into his room without knocking on her door. But hell if he didn’t spend the whole night thinking about it.
Chapter Eight
There was no filming on Saturday and most of the cast and crew headed to Seattle to take advantage of the time off. Hannah received a text from Christian at ten in the morning that read, You coming to Seattle, yes or no? I don’t care either way. And while it was incredibly hard to pass up such a kind and generous invitation, Hannah was anxious to get some sister time with Piper. With Brendan back on terra firma to entertain his parents, the captain very wisely handed Piper his credit card, grunted at her to be careful, kissed her like the sky was falling, and nudged a dazed Piper toward Hannah, who waited in the driveway pretending to get sick over the public display of affection.
“Okay, but seriously,” Hannah said, climbing into the passenger side of Brendan’s truck, which they were borrowing for the day. “Does your vagina ever get tired?”
Piper snorted. “Sometimes I swear it is, but that’s just my cue to hydrate.” Hannah fell sideways onto the seat laughing, her sister ruffling her hair with an indulgent smile. “When he’s doing it right, it never gets old.” Piper checked her makeup in the rearview, smacked her lips together, and started the truck. “Someday you’ll have a reason to agree.”
Hannah didn’t like where her mind went—and it went there immediately.
The way Fox stared at her last night as she’d walked into her bedroom.
He must not have expected her to glance back over her shoulder or he wouldn’t have had that look in his eye. Honestly, the word “seductive” normally sounded ridiculous to her. A word that reminded her of old Sharon Stone movie trailers. Or maybe she’d hear it once in a while flipping through cable where the coffee commercials lived.