He got her into the car.
The car was windless, warm.
Hannah still clung to the waist of the man beside her, as if drawing warmth from him, "Mr. Simmons, are you leaving tonight?"
She looked up at him, her eyes filled with the warm yellow light, reflecting him.
He bent over, their cheeks touching, his voice unusually low, "I've got everything ready. I wanted to see you before I left."
"So, you admit that you miss me?" She couldn't help leaning into his arms, her gaze falling on his collar, unable to resist unbuttoning a couple of his buttons.
His collarbones were slim and sensually curved, utterly tempting.
He let her mess around, simply grasping her soft little hand and squeezing it lightly, unable to let go, "I miss you, every single day."
Perhaps because they were about to part, the man frankly spoke words of love he had never voiced before.
After speaking, he felt a bit theatrical, but once the words were out, there was no taking them back.
