Rock Solid Read Online Free PDF Page B

accomplished a lot. She looked at some of the framed news articles and magazine covers. Words that came up often were things like
brash
,
risky
, and
pushing the edge
.
    Brody said you were nice.
    What did Hannah have to put on her walls? Her diplomas, certainly, and she was proud of those, along with her certified public accountant recognition. She had some pictures from school—mainly her and Abby and a few other friends having fun in Ithaca and at the senior dance. A few 4-H awards from the local fair. Not that she was ashamed of any of those moments—she held them dear, in fact—but in her thirty years, what else had she managed to accomplish?
    Her work had been her focus. Creating the stable, perfect future that she had always planned on. She’d be thirty-one in a few months, and she had no job, husband, kids or house.
    And here she was, cleaning Brody’s place and making him dinner and wondering why everyone, even the strangers on her blog, only thought of her as nice.
    Maybe it was time to do something that wasn’t so nice? Something daring and un-Hannah-like.
    The question was...what?
    * * *
    B RODY ’ S HEAD FELL back against the headrest of the seat when he saw Hannah’s car still in his driveway. Man, she was stubborn. And caring, warm, generous, gorgeous, sexy, funny... Brody bit off a curse, making himself stop there.
    He didn’t want to lie to her. If he’d been a bad bet before, he wasn’t anyone Hannah would be interested in now. She needed security, stability. He’d never been a poster child for either quality, but that was especially true at the moment.
    He could only think of one way to convince her to go. It was dangerous, but it was his only play, really. Entering the house through the back door, he stopped short for a second, taking in the gleaming counters and lack of clutter. Something smelled mouthwatering, and his gaze traveled to the pot still on the stove. There was a pie on the counter and he walked over to read a note next to it—“Jenna dropped this off.”
    Brody shook his head, and then he checked the messages blinking on the phone in the kitchen. He kept the landline precisely so he could screen calls like this; only friends and family used his cell number. He winced, thinking about Hannah overhearing the messages, especially the last one.
    Since the nightclub story, he’d gotten several offers like that. Weekly.
    Speaking of Hannah, where was she?
    “Hannah?”
    He walked farther into the house and discovered her sitting on his sofa, quiet, staring at her laptop. There was a bottle of wine—half-finished—and an empty glass on the table next to her. When he came in, she just looked up at him.
    “Oh, hi,” she said, her brow furrowed as she turned her attention back to the computer screen.
    That was all.
    “Are you okay?” he asked.
    “No. I’m boring.”
    Brody didn’t know what he expected, but it wasn’t that. He assumed she’d be ticked off or concerned or whatever, but this threw him. So he went over and sat next to her, and saw on the screen, a page about...
    “Why are you reading about alligator wrestling?”
    “Because it’s exciting and crazy, and risky. Meaning, all of the things I’m not. A decent photojournalist needs to take risks. So I found this place that teaches people to alligator wrestle, and it’s not far from here. Do you know about it?”
    “Hold on a second. You mean you’re actually considering learning how to wrestle an alligator?” Brody’s tone was incredulous, but he couldn’t help it.
    Wait.
Photojournalist?
Hannah was an accountant. Wasn’t she?
    “How much wine did you have, Hannah?”
    “Only a few glasses. See, on the website, they take you through it step-by-step. Here’s a picture of a woman doing it, so it’s not just for men,” Hannah said, pointing.
    Brody looked at the screen. “She’s twice your size—and a game warden, according to the caption, Hannah. Have you ever seen a real alligator?”
    “No, but I