Read Online I Want to Hold Your Hand by Marie Force - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Marie Force
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Nolan from his contemplation.
The idea of Skeeter being the one to suggest they get to work was as comical as the antics of the puppies flipping over each other in a scrum of paws and tails and sharp little teeth. “Thanks for this, Dude,” Nolan said with one last glance at the little fellow in the corner.
“My pleasure. I think the world of Hannah, and I hope he brings her some much-deserved happiness.”
Nolan hoped so, too, because her happiness was suddenly his top priority.
CHAPTER 6
Something unbelievable happened tonight . . . A bunch of us were at the quarry. We had a fire going and some of the boys were drinking and getting obnoxious. I took a walk down to the water, and Caleb followed me. He kissed me. I mean really kissed me. He said he’s been in love with me since we were twelve and that’s why he pulled my hair. I’m so confused! It was a good kiss. A really good kiss . . . Not that I have anything to compare it to.
—From the diary of Hannah Abbott, age sixteen
T he ride back to town was quiet, and Nolan appreciated the silence as he pondered whether Hannah would welcome his company again tonight. He’d never been so torn about how best to proceed, but nothing had ever been more important or more fraught with peril. She was hesitant about moving forward with someone else after what she’d been through in the last seven years. As Caleb’s close friend, he understood that hesitance better than most men would.
But after the night they’d spent together, Nolan didn’t know how he’d cope if she pulled back from him. A taste of her sweetness had him completely addicted and impatient for more. He had to curb that impatience until she was ready for more. That much he knew for sure.
“Looks like the father-in-law is waiting for you,” Skeeter said.
“Huh?”
“Look.”
Sure enough, Lincoln Abbott’s Range Rover was parked outside the garage. “Shit.”
“What’d you do?”
“Nothing.”
“Yet?”
“Shut up, Skeeter, and get busy fixing Mrs. Morrison’s dents, will you?”
Snickering to himself—because he was the only one who found this situation funny—Skeeter got out of the truck. “Sure thing, boss man. Good luck. Let me know if you need a wingman. I gotcha back.”
“Shut up , and go away. Far away.”
“I’m going, I’m going.”
As Nolan crossed the parking lot, he began to understand the way someone marching out to face a firing squad might feel. Even though he’d been close friends with Lincoln Abbott’s three oldest kids as well as his late son-in-law for decades, Nolan had never approached the man as someone who was romantically interested in his beloved eldest daughter.
“Mr. Abbott,” Nolan said, attempting to keep the panic out of his voice.
“Mr. Roberts.”
Oh Jesus. What was that about?
“Everything okay with the Rover?”
“Everything’s just fine. That’s not why I’m here, and you damned well know it. Get in.”
“Sir?”
Lincoln rolled his eyes. “Get in the car.”
“You’re not planning to take me out somewhere and shoot me, are you?”
“Do I have reason to do that?”
Nolan swallowed hard. “No. Sir.” Not yet anyway . . . Nolan wisely kept that thought to himself.
“Get in then. I won’t kill you or anything. Not this time.”
“Good to know.” Nolan climbed into the SUV, which smelled of leather and expensive cologne. Hannah’s dad was a fan of the finer things in life, an Anglophile of the highest order, and a die-hard Beatles fan. Nolan wasn’t at all surprised to hear “Let It Be” playing on the stereo. He wished he had the nerve to encourage Mr. Abbott to take the song’s advice to let it be, but he’d never say such a thing to Hannah’s father, especially not in his current mood.
Lincoln hit the gas, sending gravel flying on the way out of the garage parking lot.
Nolan caught Skeeter’s surprised gape as they passed the open door to the bay where he was working. Hopefully, Skeeter
The idea of Skeeter being the one to suggest they get to work was as comical as the antics of the puppies flipping over each other in a scrum of paws and tails and sharp little teeth. “Thanks for this, Dude,” Nolan said with one last glance at the little fellow in the corner.
“My pleasure. I think the world of Hannah, and I hope he brings her some much-deserved happiness.”
Nolan hoped so, too, because her happiness was suddenly his top priority.
CHAPTER 6
Something unbelievable happened tonight . . . A bunch of us were at the quarry. We had a fire going and some of the boys were drinking and getting obnoxious. I took a walk down to the water, and Caleb followed me. He kissed me. I mean really kissed me. He said he’s been in love with me since we were twelve and that’s why he pulled my hair. I’m so confused! It was a good kiss. A really good kiss . . . Not that I have anything to compare it to.
—From the diary of Hannah Abbott, age sixteen
T he ride back to town was quiet, and Nolan appreciated the silence as he pondered whether Hannah would welcome his company again tonight. He’d never been so torn about how best to proceed, but nothing had ever been more important or more fraught with peril. She was hesitant about moving forward with someone else after what she’d been through in the last seven years. As Caleb’s close friend, he understood that hesitance better than most men would.
But after the night they’d spent together, Nolan didn’t know how he’d cope if she pulled back from him. A taste of her sweetness had him completely addicted and impatient for more. He had to curb that impatience until she was ready for more. That much he knew for sure.
“Looks like the father-in-law is waiting for you,” Skeeter said.
“Huh?”
“Look.”
Sure enough, Lincoln Abbott’s Range Rover was parked outside the garage. “Shit.”
“What’d you do?”
“Nothing.”
“Yet?”
“Shut up, Skeeter, and get busy fixing Mrs. Morrison’s dents, will you?”
Snickering to himself—because he was the only one who found this situation funny—Skeeter got out of the truck. “Sure thing, boss man. Good luck. Let me know if you need a wingman. I gotcha back.”
“Shut up , and go away. Far away.”
“I’m going, I’m going.”
As Nolan crossed the parking lot, he began to understand the way someone marching out to face a firing squad might feel. Even though he’d been close friends with Lincoln Abbott’s three oldest kids as well as his late son-in-law for decades, Nolan had never approached the man as someone who was romantically interested in his beloved eldest daughter.
“Mr. Abbott,” Nolan said, attempting to keep the panic out of his voice.
“Mr. Roberts.”
Oh Jesus. What was that about?
“Everything okay with the Rover?”
“Everything’s just fine. That’s not why I’m here, and you damned well know it. Get in.”
“Sir?”
Lincoln rolled his eyes. “Get in the car.”
“You’re not planning to take me out somewhere and shoot me, are you?”
“Do I have reason to do that?”
Nolan swallowed hard. “No. Sir.” Not yet anyway . . . Nolan wisely kept that thought to himself.
“Get in then. I won’t kill you or anything. Not this time.”
“Good to know.” Nolan climbed into the SUV, which smelled of leather and expensive cologne. Hannah’s dad was a fan of the finer things in life, an Anglophile of the highest order, and a die-hard Beatles fan. Nolan wasn’t at all surprised to hear “Let It Be” playing on the stereo. He wished he had the nerve to encourage Mr. Abbott to take the song’s advice to let it be, but he’d never say such a thing to Hannah’s father, especially not in his current mood.
Lincoln hit the gas, sending gravel flying on the way out of the garage parking lot.
Nolan caught Skeeter’s surprised gape as they passed the open door to the bay where he was working. Hopefully, Skeeter
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