“Is that what you call it? Because I’ve been a little iffy.” Nathan wraps an arm around my waist. He’s relaxed. His boundaries are down. His whole vibe is warm and inviting without a frozen barbed wire to be found. I could fall in love with this version of him.
If only he’s willing to take off the mask…
“Are you guys coming or going?” Angela asks with a bob of her head toward the entrance to The Pact.
“Going.” Nathan’s thumb traces my hip, and a tremble of excitement clenches my core.
“Oh, I see, that make out moment was the lead-in to a night of passion—”
“You really could use a filter, you know?” Nathan puts his hands on Angela’s shoulders and turns her towards the entrance of The Pact. “Why don’t you go inside before you ruin the moment more than you already have.”
“Going. Going!” She pivots, walking backwards as her husband guides her. “Hey! We’re taking the boat out tomorrow. You two should come with us. I need to get to know the woman who’s putting Humpty Dumpty back together again.”
Nathan huffs a laugh and shakes his head. “We’ll be there, as long as you promise never to say something like that again.”
After Angela and Garrett disappear into the restaurant, Nathan steps away from me. “I don’t even know what to say other than I am really, really sorry.”
“It’s fine.” I wave away the apology, my lips aching from his kiss. No. That’s not quite right. My lips are aching for his kiss.
I lick them in case that helps. “I’m fine to add an extra date to our schedule. It’s not like we’ve been sticking to our two-date agreement anyway.”
“What?” Nathan pulls back, confusion drawing his brows tight. “No. I mean yes, I’m sorry if I should have talked to you about going out tomorrow first. But I was apologizing for the kiss. I saw them coming and really wanted to sell us being in this relationship and I just kind of did it.”
Oh.
Right.
Obviously, that’s what I should be upset with him about.
The kiss.
Not a spur of the moment double date with his cousin.
“You don’t have to apologize for that,” I say, still a little breathless and hoping he doesn’t notice. “I mean, it was going to happen eventually, right?”
“Right. I just, wasn’t prepared for it to be…” He rakes a hand across his mouth and my brain rapid fires ways to finish that sentence.
Amazing?
Hot?
Intense?
The start of a torrid affair I’ll tell stories about from my rocking chair when I’m eighty?
“For it to be today,” he finally says.
“At least we got it out of the way.” I laugh and it comes out all high-pitched and awkward.
Dear God. Kill me now. Yours truly, Mina Blake.
“Exactly. Now we know what to expect.” Nathan clears his throat, his eyes darting towards his car, plotting his escape.
“Right. Now we know.” I nod decisively, then let my gaze creep up his handsome face to find him glaring down at me. “You’re pretty good at that, you know. Kissing.”
A smile quirks his lips and he tilts his head my way. “You know what? So are you, HM. So are you.”
After tonight I know one thing for sure:
I really, really like kissing Nathan West.
NINETEEN
Nathan
What the hell was that kiss? Mina’s fingers threading into my hair, her breasts pressing against my chest. Her lips were supple and soft but stoked the fire we lit at the pool table.
I ruminate over it the entire drive home, then some more as the garage door closes behind me and I let myself into the house. My cock throbs and shudders. I pause, leaning against the kitchen counter to give it a moment to remember who we’re talking about here.
This is Mina Blake. My interior designer. Hot Mess Extraordinaire. We have a business relationship. Nothing more.
Except it sure feels like more. Like I can talk to her about anything and she’ll listen. Like she sees through the stupid barbed wire I’ve wrapped around my heart to the man I used to be. Like she wants to help me be that man again. And when I’m with her, I want to be that man again.
Except I’m paying her to date me for shit’s sake.
And I promised I’d cut a check for it tomorrow.
Sure, most of the money is for her design services, but there’s a financial aspect to our relationship that I can’t ignore. It’s a devil on my shoulder, whispering, ridiculing…
