Page 30 of The First Deal

Locking my phone I absentmindedly stroked the heart hanging from the silver chain around my neck.

I quickly unlocked my phone as a smile spread over my face.

Hannah:I love the necklace. Thank you.

Shane:Are you wearing it right now? Shane Hudson.

Giggling at the fact that hestill,after all this time, signed off every text with his name, I opened my phone camera, took a smiling selfie with the necklace in full focus, then sent it to Shane.

Shane:You look beautiful. I’ll talk to you later. Shane Hudson.

“You look happy, Hannah-Banana,” Hadley said as I filled a glass with lemonade for him—it was far too early for his usual beer or cider—and rolled it down the bar to him, aiming perfectly to miss each lump and bump in the battered bar-top.

I leaned over the bar, swinging my legs behind me. “I could look happier.”

“You still not spoken to that man of yours about his daughter?” Hadley raised a grey eyebrow at me.

“I’m going to talk to him later.”

“He better not upset you, you’ll tell me if he does, won’t you?” I liked that the man was starting to become protective of me too. It was a nice feeling to have someone looking out for me since my only living relative—my younger brother—was off backpacking in Thailand, taking after me by travelling before starting college.

“I’ll tell you, Hadley, don’t you worry about that.” I smiled over at him.

His gaze narrowed and he shook his head, tutting. “I still say he’s too old for you.”

“I know you do.” I kept my smile plastered on my lips.

“Stop with the ageism, Hadley,” Juno scolded, coming up behind me and making me half jump out of my skin. “You wouldn’t catch us criticising you if you fancied yourself a younger woman.”

“Nope,” I agreed. “But we would be judging you for cheating on your wife.”

“It was a hypothetical,” Juno muttered in my ear. “Anyway, Hannah and Shane are it, aren’t you? You’re going to talk to him and make it work.”

Not bothering to argue or point out that that outcome had a lot to do with Shane, not just me. Instead, I poured drinks for the regulars who were starting to arrive, and sang under my breath to the music Juno was playing through the speakers.

Nine hours later I was on the floor with a dustpan and brush, sweeping up a broken glass when a pair of expensive-looking loafers came into view.

I didn’t need to look up to know it was him. The scent of spiced apples gave him away just as much as the expensive shoes had.

“You didn’t have to come all this way,” I said, still sweeping.

His fingers twisted into my hair, and then he was crouching, his hand sliding to my chin, lifting it so that I met his bright green gaze. “Of course I did. If you’re ready to talk, then I want to do it here, or back at yours, or anywhere—anywhere with you.”

He then straightened up, groaning as he moved, and held his hand out, waiting for me to take it. Hesitantly, I placed my palm against his and curled my fingers around his hand.

“You’re not going to try to apologise with your tongue again, are you? Not that I’d complain, but…” I shrugged.

Shane laughed. “No, Cariño. I’m not going to do that this time. Maybe later though, if you’ll let me.”

I batted his arm and he laughed again.

“I want to talk, properly. Can I help you clean up?” he offered just as Juno came wandering out of her office.

“Shane! I mean, Mr Hudson,” she exclaimed.

“Shane is fine,” he insisted. “In fact, it would be nice ifeveryonehere called me Shane.” He gave me a meaningful look.

“Shut up, Rex,” I mumbled, scowling.

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