Page 4 of Better Than Expected
Offset by a dark freckle under her left eye and the dimple next to her mouth on the right side.
Sharp lines, perfect symmetry, but offset just enough to be interesting.
Without conscious thought, she was walking over to her, wanting just a closer look at her face, before she found herself next to the woman.
Striking, Hannah thought again, pleased that this face was even more aesthetically enjoyable up close. There was a little crinkle in her cheek, right next to that dimple, visible here. Yeah, she really wanted to draw that.
It was only when she realized how close she stood that she cursed herself. She had nothing to actually say and now… Hannah opened her mouth but – damningly – had none of the words to strike up a conversation.
“Are you enjoying those?” Was what finally escaped her mouth when she was able to latch onto something.
The woman spun to face her, eyes widening as she started coughing, choking on the bite of the cookie she’d just taken. The small smile Hannah had felt playing on her lips dropped at the reaction and she uselessly fluttered her hands in front of her before she interlocked her fingers to make herself stop looking like a total idiot as the coughing came to an end.
Her eyes were endlessly dark, and Hannah’s own searched them, before they flicked over the rest of her. The woman’s hair matched the color of those eyes, exactly. A rich, dark brown. Cut sharply to frame her jaw, with natural waves that softened the look a little. Just enough to offset all of that sharpness, the thought rang around in her head once more.
Quite possibly the most perfect face in the world. Her fingers itched for a pencil. Or to trace those sharp lines.
“I’m – yeah, they’re actually amazing,” the woman eventually answered. “And this is coming from someone who normally doesn’t love sugar cookies in spite of a serious love affair with both sugar and cookies.” Her voice dropped to a playful whisper.
Hannah could tell from the way the woman’s eyes twinkled and a smile tugged at her lips, that she didn’t suffer from the same affliction of never being able to find the right fucking words.
But she didn’t feel the same sort of awkwardness with this woman that she usually did with people at these events. Maybe it was because of the easy stance she had or the inviting look she gave.
Maybe her compliment to Hannah’s baking also had something to do with it. Michael frequently complained about how much “time she wasted” by cooking and baking, and though he was happy to eat the meals she made, he also made comments about how he wanted to hire someone to cook for them.
This woman’s very clear enjoyment of her cookies made her cheeks feel warm, and she couldn’t help but smile. “I won’t tell anyone. But as the person who made them, I’m feeling pretty pleased.”
It was so silly to feel as satisfied as she did when those dark eyes widened, the woman looking from her plate to Hannah, honestly like she was some sort of goddess. Abbie was maybe the only person who appreciated her cooking so much, but getting the approval from her toddler didn’t feel quite the same.
“You made these? I assumed it was all catered…” She trailed off, the warmth in her gaze making Hannah’s cheeks heat.
And her smile grew, uncontrollably. “Most of it is, actually. But I’m on the event council for the firm and I just figured… why not contribute a bit?”
The woman snorted, “You’re contributing terrible things to my self-control.”
The outright mischievousness in her eyes made Hannah feel easily more relaxed than she’d felt all night. More than she ever felt at these events, really. “I think this time of year is just about when everyone’s self-control takes a dive.”
With a head tilt and a warm look in her eye, the woman opened her mouth to speak, only to shut it a second later, her eyes focusing over Hannah’s shoulder. Her entire demeanor changed; the easy, joking set of her shoulders tightening as if she was getting ready to go to war.
Hannah didn’t even have to turn as she felt Michael approach. She could smell the cologne and feel his touch slide over the small of her back as he stepped close enough to brush against her. “Hannah, dear,” his hand tightened at her waist, the grip bruising, making it just difficult enough to stop her smile from turning to a grimace. “What are you doing with Caroline?”
The next couple of minutes passed in a shocked blur for her, because… this was Caroline? The striking woman who loved her cookies and made her feel at ease was Caroline? The same one Michael ranted and raved about, the one who was rude and cold and incompetent?
“What the hell were you doing talking to her?” Michael hissed in her ear as soon as Caroline had walked away, and Hannah followed her with her eyes. Hannah’s eyes just seemed to want to be on her, even though she was… Caroline. “What did she want from you? Was she hitting on you?”
That jarred her out of her stunned stupor, and she leaned back enough to look up at him. “What? Hitting on me?”
“She’s a dyke, Hannah,” Michael snarled.
She winced as the word hit her ears, pulling back even more from his embrace, even as his hand tightened, digging harder into her. “Cut it out. She wasn’t hitting on me; we were talking about cookies. And don’t say that word, it’s rude.”
Michael was glaring toward where Caroline had disappeared into the crowd. He was far too fixated on her to fixate on Hannah. “Well, she was probably only seconds away from it. Look at you. Of course she was. On my wife.”
Hannah vaguely wondered if it would have sounded like she was hitting on Caroline had she been able to ask the words that she desperately wished she could – if she could draw her. The thought made her want to laugh, but she knew she absolutely couldn’t smile in the face of Michael’s anger.
Anger at something that hadn’t even happened.
“She didn’t do or say anything about my looks.” She could feel her cheeks heat as someone passed them and she cleared her throat, patting Michael’s lapel. “Why don’t you tell me where you got up to? You were with Mr. Wilkens, right?”