Page 69 of Love, Legacy, and Little Green Aliens
Chapter Sixteen
Hannah’sheartdancedanervous bachata as they mounted the narrow back stairs from theBeaconnewsroom up to her apartment. She’d cleaned the place top to bottom last week in anticipation of this possibility, for cripes’ sake. She’d even changed the sheets this morning on a weird hunch. But it wasn’t the exertion or fear of dust bunnies that made her so jittery, it was the symbolism.
She was inviting him into her private sanctum to indulge in some very dirty fun, and her mother was sleeping—hopefully!—right across the narrow landing.
This was a big honkin’ deal.
And here they stood, Xander’s hands tunneling under her top as she fumbled for her elusive keyring. The bewitching sensation of his lips nibbling her nape wasn’t helping her manual dexterity.
After a few bungled attempts, she fitted the key into the lock and whispered, “Come in before Mom sees us.” Hell, she probably had seen them already, drawn to her peephole by the creaky stairs.
She hung her coat on a hook beside the door, toed off her boots, then nibbled her lip while Xander did the same and gazed around at her itsy-bitsy living space. “Make yourself at home.” She hooked a thumb over her shoulder. “I’ll, uh, go check on Mom.”
She found her mother’s bedroom door closed, and a note from Marquetta, TC’s head librarian and Mom’s good friend, on the dining table. “Doc sent some strong meds. Linda will probably sleep through the night. I’ll check on her in the morning.”
Just to be sure, she cracked open the bedroom door. Mom lay on her side, cuddled around the body pillow Hannah had given her for Christmas, her breaths deep and even.
Relief washed through her, quickly replaced by tummy butterflies as she crossed the landing. Xander sprawled on her sofa, his arms stretched across the back, his stockinged feet up on her coffee table. He glanced up at her approach, mouth curved in a smile. “I like your apartment. It really reflects you.”
“How so?” She sashayed over to join him, faking confidence she didn’t feel. Seeing him so at ease in her private space made their relationship—because as much as she feared admitting it, that’s what this was—made it all seem inescapablyreal. Visiting him in his temporary quarters was one thing, but the sight of Xander all cozy and adorable between her sofa pillows, his feet beside her pile ofVanity Fairs,New Yorkers, andRolling Stones…justwow.Her favorite guy in her favorite place was a powerful combination—and a tiny bit terrifying.
Xander laced his fingers behind his head, nestled among those silky, dark curls. “It’s cozy here, colorful, welcoming.” He threw her a killer grin. “Like you, love.”
Oof. There it was again, the big L word, the one she’d been studiously avoiding since his declaration four days ago, because saying it aloud meant so much more than flirtatious fun and earthquaking sex—it meant big changes, maybe even rethinking her life’s direction.
Nope, nope, nope. Coping with work and Mom’s ill health was all she could handle right now. Her giddy heart would have to wait.
Needing a moment to breathe through her anxiety, she went to the kitchenette and brewed a pot of blackberry tea. “This place is charged with good vibes because it was built with love. When we lost our house, lots of people pitched in to renovate theBeacon’s upstairs offices into two apartments—one for Mom, one for me.”
“Why two? Why not just one bigger apartment?”
“I was fifteen. Mom was looking ahead—figured her best shot at keeping me close was to give me my own space. And thank God she did. I doubt we’d get along as well if we shared the same apartment.” Chuckling, she tapped her temple. “Linda Leone’s a smart cookie.”
“Like mother, like daughter.” Xander accepted a steaming mug and inhaled the fragrant steam. “You’ve always lived here?
His question stirred up memories of living with Nathan—their sunny kitchen, the covered porch, the little veggie garden out back. When she realized she’d miss the house more than she’d miss the man she shared it with, she knew it was time to go.
“I’ve lived other places in the area, but I always come back here. It’s tiny, but it’s home.”
His gaze shifted to the window and the glowing streetlights beyond. “Since I graduated from college, I’ve lived in…” He counted on his fingers. “…seven different apartments. I kind of like the starting over phase.”
She forced a laugh past the lump clogging her throat. “You’re not the rooted type. Me, I get attached to a place—not just the building, but the people, the vibe, the natural surroundings. It all combines in a way that feels right. Deep in the marrow of my bones, I know this is my home.”
Xander set down his mug and swiveled to face her, winding her ponytail around his fingers. “You think you could feel that way somewhere else?”
“You mean leave Trappers Cove?” She shuddered. “I hope I never have to find out.”
An awkward silence thickened the air between them. What must she look like to him, stubbornly clinging to her dinky apartment and her tiny newspaper? He’d promised not to leave her, but when the initial infatuation wore off, he’d grow restless and move on. How could she expect someone as bright and ambitious as him, someone who’d grown up in a big, glittering city like Seattle, to mesh with her small-town life?
She gave herself a mental shake. Xander was here beside her, warm and solid, his dark gaze glowing with desire. Yes, their future together was uncertain, so why not enjoy this sweet, fleeting moment?
Leaning into the pleasure of his touch, she lowered her lids and purred, “So, about that bath.”
He nuzzled the sensitive crook of her neck, his lips soft and insistent. “Yes, please. Naked with you is my favorite place to be.”
“In that case, follow me.” She pushed up from the squishy couch and strolled to the bathroom, putting an extra swing in her step.
Xander followed with a low whistle that unleashed a waterfall of goosebumps. He detoured to retrieve a cellophane packet from his jacket pocket. “I’ve been carrying this around since last week. No bathtub in my RV, so…” He flashed a devilish grin.
