She hums, turning over my palm to plant a firm kiss against it. “Look, no mess.” Bouncing to her toes, she peeks behind me. “And the coast is clear, so unless you’d prefer not to kiss me in front of your fam?—”
I gently bring my lips to hers, pressing in just long enough to breathe her in. “Hi.”
“Hi.”
Our eyes locked, something shrewd flickers in her gaze for half a second, barely there then gone before I can read it.
“So what do you think? Looks pretty great, right?”
Hannah scans the event space around us, but I’m only looking at her. “Gorgeous.”
A short time later, the room busts at the seams with guests dressed to the nines, champagne flutes in hand as they browse the auction tables. Hannah makes the rounds, schmoozing attendees like a pro. She tugs me along to meet a few VIPs, but I mostly let her do her thing and admire from a distance.
Mom gets around well enough with her walker. I hover nearby regardless, primarily running interference in Bri and Dubs’ bickering. He looks at her like she hung the moon. She looks at him like he hung the Christmas lights wrong which only makes him go harder. And they’re both living for it.
Hannah managed to seat my crew, along with herself, Lydia, and Richard at one large table near the stage. Her chair remains empty beside me until halfway through the salad course when she finally finds a moment to take a break from her duties.
I find her knee under the table. “You okay?”
She nods nervously, tossing her water back like she hasn’t had a drink in days.
“You want something from the bar?”
“No, I’m too worked up to drink.”
I weave our fingers together and lower my voice to a whisper, lean in close. “You’re gonna do great, sunshine.”
Her eyes level with mine, hand white-knuckling my own like I might disappear if she lets go. Restrained emotion from somewhere I can’t pinpoint bubbles to the surface of her face—that same probing expression from earlier.
“Baby, eat something. It’ll settle your nerves.”
More nodding and she swipes a few bites of salad. Her legs cross under the table and I notice the slit in her gown I hadn’t seen earlier. It’s not scandalous, just a peak of skin above her knee, but I find it with my palm, urging her bouncing leg to settle.
I press in again. “Breathe for me.” She does. “Good. Again.” She obliges, but adds a little side eye. “One more time.”
She grins. “Bossy.”There she is.
We’ve nearly finished our dinner course when an older gentleman approaches the table. “Hannah, sorry to interrupt,” he says.
She covers her mouth with a napkin as she swallows down her steak. “No worries. Is everything okay?”
“Of course, of course. Just wanted to give you a heads up I’ll be introducing you from the stage in about ten minutes.”
“Sounds good.” There’s a layer of panicked energy in her reply, but it goes mostly unnoticed around the table. I find her leg again.
“Mr. Whitley,” she adds, “I’d like you to meet everyone. You already know my mom and Dr. Adelson.”
“Lydia. Richard. Good to see you both.”
Hannah’s attention shifts to me and my family. “And this is Rowan. His mom, Teresa, and sister, Bridget. And friend, Walker. Everyone, this is Adam Whitley, Chairman of the BCH Board.”
Hellos and handshakes are exchanged all around. When Adam circles back to Hannah she gestures toward Bri and says, “Bridget here, is actually a doctor herself.”
Adam perks up. “Is that so? What field?”
“I’m getting ready to begin my pediatric residency at Children’sDallas.”
He bobs his head, impressed. “That’s a great program. You have plans for a specialty once your residency is complete?”