Page 108 of Soft Flannel Hank

In the soft glow of Jory’s bathroom lighting, Esther saw the hickeys.

Last night, Hank had been a man possessed. She shivered to remember how he’d kissed every inch of her body. She could see how much more enthusiastic he’d been in some places than others. Light purple love bites at the top of her thighs, above each breast, over her hip bones. She traced a gentle finger around her shoulder, feeling suddenly bereft again.

It had been dark in the cabin’s bedroom and she’d been in too big a hurry in the middle of the night to notice something like a hickey. But she couldn’t help thinking that he had put them there on purpose for her to find later.

Of course, when he’d done it, he’d no doubt thought that he would be there for that moment of discovery.

Hot tears sprang to her eyes as she took in her reflection. The soft roundness of her belly, her thick thighs, the freckles that peppered across every inch of her skin. She could trace the path his hands had taken with her mind, could remember every single caress.

Life would go on, but it would always be missing something without Hank in it, a feeling that was as comforting as it was depressing.

Shaking herself, Esther finished undressing and stepped into a shower so hot that steam billowed in thick clouds. The bigger the feelings, the hotter the shower required to process them.

The water pressure was intense as it beat down on Esther’s head and shoulders, and she relished the simple pleasure of a good shower as she shampooed and conditioned her hair, scrubbed her body, and washed her face.

Esther let her mind wander to what it would have been like showering with Hank in a shower like this, with scalding water and good water pressure and slick, glass-like tile that would be such a contrast against her skin. She could picture him pressing her against the wall, the cold tile a shock against her heated breasts as he brought his warmth and bulk against her back, the scalding hot water wreathing them both in steam.

With a sigh, she rinsed the conditioner out of her hair and turned off the shower. She had just plopped her curls in an old T-shirt when she heard deep voices. Esther fought down the panic as she quickly threw on her clothes. If it was Callum and his men, he wasn’t going to drag her out of this house naked.

She crept out of the bathroom, walking heel to toe with slow stealth so as not to make any noise. It would figure that Callum would finally catch up to her the night before she planned to leave again. The universe had excellent timing.

Esther was about to reach for the bedroom doorknob and reveal herself when she heard Hank’s unmistakable bass on the other side of the door and froze.

* * *

Nat had parkedNiamh’s car in the alley behind Jory’s store and led Hank up the back steps. They’d knocked three separate times before she’d opened the door a crack, peering out with her shockingly green eyes.

“Can I help you?”

Hank spoke before Nat could, knowing that Nat, normally so good-natured and easygoing, was not in his right head at the moment.

“Have you seen Esther?” Hank asked.

“Of course,” Jory said simply.

“Is she with you?” Hank asked, feeling hope glowing white hot in his chest.

Jory closed the door to undo a chain before opening it all the way. She stood in the doorway in floral pajama pants and an oversized sweater. Her wavy black hair was down and streaming behind her.

“She isn’t here. But you’re welcome to come in and see for yourself.”

Hank followed her into the apartment and Nat trailed behind him, closing the door as he did. As Jory said, there was no sign of Esther. Not her backpack. Not her boots. Not her presence at all. The light under the door that led to what he assumed was a bedroom was dark. There was only one mug of tea on the coffee table.

Hank rubbed a heavy hand down his face. “Do you know where she might be? It’s not safe for her alone.”

Jory crossed her arms over her chest and stared at him. “She didn’t tell me where she planned to go, only that she needed to leave.”

“When did she leave?”

“Hours ago.”

“Dammit,” Hank swore. He’d never make up that much time, especially not knowing which direction she’d gone.

He sighed, feeling all of the weight of the day pressing down on him again. He was tired. He was devastated. He was angry. He was terrified. Each feeling was more than enough to try to manage on its own but all together, he felt crushed.

“I’m sorry to bother you, Jory. Can I… can I give you my number? Will you tell me if she calls you?”

Jory raised a suspicious eyebrow. “Why?”