When We're Thirty by Casey Dembowski (beautiful books to read .TXT) 📕

Nulty then head back that night for the best show of our lives. We also have a reservation at that restaurant you like near Astor Place.”

This time, when he looked at her, he was certain there were tears in her eyes—happy tears, he hoped.

“Best. Christmas. Ever,” she said, parroting his words. “Thank you.”

He wrapped his arms around her waist, his fingers digging into the thin fabric of her dress. “Anything for you, Mrs. Abbott-Thorne.”

Saying the words was so much more powerful than hearing Hannah say them. Desire rolled through him, his whole body alight. He pulled her into him. Their lips collided, hard and desperate. He inched her dress up over her hips, his hands sliding up against the sensitive skin of her thighs. Her fingers curled into the short hair at the back of his neck as she trailed kisses down his chest, her hands working the final buttons of his shirt. He pulled the dress over her head and she pushed him back until they lay on the floor. He quivered under her touch, goosebumps sprouting on his arms as she skimmed a hand down his chest, over his hips, and lower. Every touch was kindling, and Will wanted to burn.

Chapter 35Hannah

Hannah tapped her finger to the beat of the song playing in the restaurant. They had picked a restaurant near Penn Station to make it easier on her father, but that meant it was more crowded and that her father’s tardiness didn’t go unnoticed. The waitress had been giving them dirty looks for the last ten minutes, even though she and Will had ordered drinks and an appetizer—not that she thought she could stomach food right then.

“How was your dress fitting?” Will asked, though she knew he didn’t care. “Did you end up meeting the rest of the bridal party?”

Hannah shook her head. “No, Madison decided not to do that. I guess I’ll just meet them at the bridal shower or something.” She looked around the restaurant again but didn’t see her dad. “The dress is... well, I’m glad I’m not paying for it.”

“I’m sure you will look beautiful.”

“Honey, hey!” Her father strode up to the table with an apologetic smile. He was alone. She hadn’t expected anything else, but it still stung that her mother couldn’t be bothered to make the trip. He slid into the open spot next to Hannah. “Sorry I’m late. I should’ve taken the car.”

“You hate driving in New York,” she said, feeling herself relax. There was no preamble with her dad, not even now.

“Not as much as I hate taking the train anywhere.”

“That’s sacrilege on this side of the river,” Will said jokingly, taking a sweep of the restaurant.

Hannah laughed and turned to Will. “My mom once had this brilliant idea to take the train to Florida.”

“It took thirty hours,” her dad finished. “We could’ve walked there faster.”

“How old were you?” Will had a smile plastered across his face that was unmistakably filled with amusement, but then, this was a part of her that he’d never experienced. She could see why the way she played off her dad would delight Will. It was the basis for so much of her sense of humor.

“Thirteen. Stephanie was nine,” she said, remembering how Stephanie had run up and down the aisle for an hour straight. The other travelers in their car had been saints.

Hannah’s eyes wandered toward the door. A gaggle of women with bridesmaid sashes had just come in, and behind them were a few loners in business clothes. She tried to see them better through the gaps in the bridal party. They were only young businessmen, not her mother.

“She’s not coming.” Her dad frowned. “I’m sorry, Hannah. She just... needs a little more time.”

Hannah nodded and pulled a piece of bread onto her plate, afraid that if she made eye contact with her dad, she’d burst into a million little pieces.

“So, I didn’t get the full story last time,” her dad said with a hint of sarcasm that it was probably too soon for. “How did you two end up at the altar?”

She exchanged a look with Will and wondered briefly what would happen if they told the whole truth. “I’ll let Will take this one,” she said instead.

Will didn’t miss a beat. He walked through the story they’d crafted together, but this time, it was sprinkled with truths from their marriage—how they crashed a wedding on their honeymoon, how he’d taken them to a laundromat on a date because of some silly quip she’d made. She watched them fall in love through his eyes. It was beautiful, it was theirs, and it was real.

“What made you say yes?” her dad asked, returning his full attention to Hannah.

“She liked my butt,” Will said before Hannah could answer.

She shoved him, a blush heating her cheeks. “He was sweet, and we were in love.”

“My daughter, the hopeless romantic? I never thought I’d see the day.” He held a hand mockingly to his heart. “Charlanie rubbed off on you.”

“You too?” Will exclaimed with a laugh.

“It’s just so damn catchy.”

Hannah didn’t know how to feel about her dad’s statement. There was no malice in it, but she had never been cold or jaded. In fact, she’d put in a great amount of effort to not let any of her past relationships taint her feelings on love. No matter how sideways things with Brian had gone, it wasn’t for a lack of trying. Sometimes you picked wrong. And sometimes you got Will. Maybe one had to happen before the other.

She listened to Will and her dad talk about work, football, and some new phone that was supposed to come out next month. They were a good fit. Her dad would enjoy having someone to watch sports with—someone who cared, at least. Hannah placated him, but half of the time, she had no idea which team had the ball. The longer they talked, the more relaxed she felt. This was how she’d imagined it.

“How’s your knee