They stood like that for a while, and the sweetness and security of it nearly reduced her to tears. It had been so long since anyone had been there for her. Yes, she could tell Chloe when she’d had a bad day, and her daughter would cheer her up with a silly drawing or a hug, but she couldn’t let the full weight of her hardships land on her kid. If she could barely handle them as an adult, it wouldn’t be even close to fair to expect Chloe to shoulder any of that.
But Nate? Not that he didn’t need her too—he was clinging to her as hard as she was to him, but he felt solid while he was doing it. As though maybe they could offer comfort and support to each other. Heck, it felt like that’s what they were doing.
Once she was relatively certain she wouldn’t burst into tears when she let go, she pulled back far enough to grab Nate’s hand and tug him forward.
Her heart took a double-beat when he walked inside since she wasn’t exactly thrilled about him seeing the ramshackle life she’d assembled from hand-me-downs and things she’d rescued from the swap table at the dump. She had a few things from when she and Tony had been married, but even those were ten years old and had been through a decade of Chloe. Nate’s place might be full of bachelor furniture, but she didn’t have that kind of excuse.
Nate, as ever, seemed entirely unbothered by the state of her house and sat next to her on the couch that was sagging in the middle. He tucked her under his arm, and she let her head rest against his chest and listened to his heartbeat. Strong, steady, and she felt held, safe. And for a little bit, she allowed it. They both deserved a break after the days they’d had. Eventually he gave her shoulder a squeeze, and she sat up a bit and turned to face him.
“I’m sorry, again, about today. I wasn’t lying when I said you could count on me, but it’s been a while since I had anyone I really needed to be responsible to. I fucked up and I’m sure I’ll fuck up again, but not this way. Promise. I can be taught.”
“I appreciate that, and I believe you.” And the thing was, she did. Tony hadn’t been much for apologies, nor had he been terribly inclined to change. When he’d been about to have another mouth to feed on the work he could scrape together, he’d peaced out. And not that she’d have taken him up on it anyway, but he hadn’t even tried to convince her to leave with him.
Nate…wasn’t Tony. This wasn’t some adventure he’d set out on, having not really thought it through. He had a job and a life to go back to, but that was a whole other ball of wax she could be depressed about later. Right now she had a man in her house who she genuinely liked, who was hot as hell, and both of them could use some distraction. Plus, her kid was sound asleep upstairs and would stay that way until Ruby had to drag her out of bed at seven tomorrow.
That ripple of anticipation had turned into a swell of eagerness, and she used the momentum to swing a leg over Nate’s hips and settle onto his lap.
His blue eyes bulged and his hands landed on her waist, but he didn’t say a word. He waited for her.
“I’m sorry I was so hard on you, and I’m really glad you’re here now. Can we be done with apologies and move on to the makeup sex?”
Nate gaped like a fish, and she took the opportunity to wiggle her butt, make herself more comfortable on his lap, which also had the effect of his hands tightening around her waist and his eyes rolling back in his head. When he managed to open them, he looked at her.
“That’s a, uh, thing we get to do?”
So she hadn’t allowed him into her house yet and the first time she did, they were going to fuck on her couch? Sure, why the hell not?
“I mean, if you want to.”
A smile burst across his face for only a second before he was slinging an arm around her waist and his other hand went to the back of her neck to pull her in for a kiss. A kiss she was only too glad to return.
***
The tension that had been building and circling and strangling Nate had ebbed when Ruby greeted him with a hug at the door, and it all but disappeared as she kissed him. A few hours before, he’d been convinced he’d never see her again, and now here he was, making out with her on her couch in her house. A house he hadn’t been allowed to step foot in before.
Her place—what little he’d seen of it—was just like her. Pretty, comfortable, a bit worn but solid, and the lights she’d rigged up in here were ingenious. She must’ve stripped some lamps for parts and made them herself. He’d figure it out later, because right now he had a woman in his lap who was driving him out of his mind with the way she kissed and the way she worked her hands under his shirt and scratched at the sides of his ribs as though just touching him wouldn’t be enough—she wanted more. She could have it all.
He let his own hand slip under the sweatshirt she had on, and all he found was smooth skin. He was a little bummed that her hair was up because he’d like to slide his fingers into it, but he wasn’t going to let that get in the way of how much he was enjoying this, enjoying her. She was warm and starting to work herself against his dick, still trapped in his pants, and he wouldn’t object at all to fucking right here, like this. He’d rather have her in her bed, but he didn’t want to wake up Chloe. They’d never met, and having her walk in with him getting it on with her mother… That would be a less than ideal introduction.
“Mom?”
Oh, shit.
Ruby pulled away from him in a flash, taking her hands out from under his shirt, her cheeks turning as brilliant red as he’d ever seen them.
“Chloe.” Ruby sounded a bit out of breath, and he couldn’t blame her. His own was a bit labored, and the fact that his heart was now racing with mortification wasn’t helping matters any.
Ruby scrambled off his lap, tugged down her sweatshirt where it had ridden up in the back. “Is everything okay?”
“Yeah, I just…I was reading with my flashlight and I thought I heard someone. I wanted to make sure you were okay.”
Aw, man. They hadn’t been that loud, had they?
“You were supposed to go to bed, not stay up reading. You’ve got camp again tomorrow, and you were practically falling asleep in your dinner. You know I love it that you enjoy reading so much, but there’s a time to read and there’s a time for sleep. Now is sleeping time.”
“Not for you,” Chloe said accusingly. “Is that Nate?”
Oh. He hadn’t realized Ruby had mentioned him. It would’ve been strange for her not to at all, but he hadn’t been dismissed as “just a friend.” He had a name. That thrilled him, but also punched him in the head with guilt. He had a name, which meant Ruby had talked about him, which meant when he hadn’t shown up today, she’d probably had to think about how she was going to tell Chloe she wouldn’t see him walking Ruby home anymore.
It’s not that he hadn’t thought about what Ruby having a kid meant before, but for some reason that realization drove it home in a way the purely academic exercises hadn’t. He had a name.
He couldn’t very well stand up in his…current condition, but he did the next best thing as Ruby stood there with hands on her hips, mouth opening and closing because clearly this was not how she’d intended for Chloe to meet him. He rose on his knees and turned around, the back of the couch providing cover for the tented front of his shorts.
“Yeah, it’s me, Nate. Hey, Chloe. Your mom’s told me a lot about you. And I’ve been admiring your artwork.”
Chloe crossed her arms over her chest and gave him an assessing, suspicious glare. “Looks like that’s not the only thing you’ve been admiring.”
“Chloe!”
Oh, man. How did parents ever keep a straight face? Ever?
“Well, uh, that’s true. I like your mom a lot. She’s pretty great.”
“I know that.” Chloe’s gaze had softened a little, but she was clearly still not sure about him. Fair enough. “Seems like you like her enough to walk her home from work. Why don’t you ever stay?”
“That’s entirely up to your mom. I am completely at her service.” And at her mercy. Although Ruby
didn’t seem mad. Just cautious as she watched him talk to her daughter.
“I feel like if you’re going to spend time with my mom, then I should get to ask you some questions.”
Ruby slapped a hand over her eyes and muttered something about damn kids, but he was more amused than anything else.
“I’d be okay with that, but I think I heard it was past your bedtime?”
Chloe rolled her eyes and dropped her hands to her sides. “Ugh, fine. But maybe the next time you walk my mom home, you could stay for dinner?”
Shit. He hadn’t meant to put Ruby in this position, but he couldn’t say he was entirely sorry about it. He’d love to have dinner with them, get to know Chloe better because she seemed like a firecracker just like her mom.
He looked over at Ruby, who was glaring at the both of them. How did she do that? Special skill they taught at mom school or something?
“I just want to make sure he’s good enough for you.”
Jeez, could this kid stab him through the heart again? And by the look on Ruby’s face, she felt the same way. Ruby looked between the two of them again and sighed.
“Fine. Nate can stay for dinner sometime.” Chloe started clapping, but Ruby cut her off with a shake of her finger. “But I don’t know what Nate’s schedule is, so we’ll have to figure out a day that works for all of us. Okay?”
Chloe nodded, but then turned back to Nate. “How about tomorrow? Can you come for dinner tomorrow?”
A laugh burbled in his chest, and he did his damnedest to swallow it. The Chloe-apple hadn’t fallen far from the Ruby-tree. “I don’t have any plans tomorrow evening, but like I said, it’s up to your mom. She might need more of a heads-up to have a dinner guest.”
“You already saw our house,” Chloe pointed out. “Mom, can he? Please? I don’t have lessons or anything. Nate could come tomorrow.”
“Chloe-bear, we don’t have any food in the house. What am I supposed to cook?”
That was a problem he could solve. “If anyone likes pizza, I could just pick up a pie or two on my way. I go right by Briarsted House of Pizza on the way to Landry’s. Although, if we didn’t want it to get too cold, we’d probably have to drive here instead of walk.”
Ruby shot him a glower that could’ve knocked him off the couch, but he held firm. She could say no, and they’d plan a different night, but he really was trying to make things easier on her. She didn’t have to cook. Hell, he knew she was exhausted most days, and he wasn’t going to make stuff harder on her. That wasn’t the point of this at all.
And then there were Chloe’s puppy-dog eyes to contend with. “Please, Mom? We haven’t had pizza in forever.”
Conceding defeat, Ruby threw up her hands. “Fine. Nate can come over for dinner tomorrow and bring a pizza. As long as half of it is chicken and broccoli and olives.”
There was a loud groan and death scene worthy of an Oscar from Chloe’s corner, which pretty much echoed Nate’s sentiments about olives on pizza. So he put a hand over his mouth and in a ridiculous stage-whisper said, “I think we’re going to need another pizza.”
Chloe busted out laughing, and Ruby started muttering something he couldn’t quite make out. Okay, so his introduction to Chloe hadn’t been perfect, but it could’ve gone so much worse.
Chapter Twelve
A week and two dinners with the Hudson women later, Nate was working with Heather on her backhand. For whatever reason, the woman was insistent on using one hand, even though both he and Willa had attempted to persuade her that a two-handed approach would give her more power and accuracy, make her more competitive. But, no. Heather thought it wasn’t as pretty. Which it wasn’t, but he’d take winning over pretty any day and so would Willa.
They were having the well-trod argument again as he fed her shot after easy shot to practice. The hopper of balls was about half-empty, and they’d probably polish off the whole thing before the lesson was over. Nate checked his watch just to make sure he’d be able to leave on time to meet Ruby.
“I’m sorry, are me and my one-handed backhand boring you? It’s the stroke of champions, you know.”
Nate rolled his eyes and returned her weak lob, a hell of a lot softer than he wanted to. But this was about practice and form, getting her more comfortable on the court, even if he didn’t agree with her choices. Hell, if he tried to force her, she’d likely just self-sabotage. She’d come around. Maybe. “Roger Federer, you are not. Us mere mortals need all the help we can get. You need some weight, power. You’re never going to beat me with those weak-ass strokes.”
It was possible he shouldn’t sass his boss, but Heather was cool and probably respected him more for being honest with her than kowtowing. And besides she gave as good as she got.
“Yes, well, you get paid for giving me lessons, and that isn’t the first time you’ve checked your watch. Seriously, what’s up?”
Ouch. But Heather wasn’t wrong. He sent the ball back over the net to set her up for a beauty of a backhand. He could only hope she’d take advantage. “You’re right, I’m sorry. I just have to meet someone, and I don’t want to be late.”
Heather raised an eyebrow and, in giving him the stink-eye, whiffed her return. “You know, you’re different than you were last summer.”
“You mean, I haven’t gone waterskiing and broken my leg like an asshole yet?”
She grinned, and he rolled his eyes. “That too. But seriously. You got up to some serious shenanigans here last summer. Which is fine. That’s part of the ethos here, right? Having fun, letting loose? I wasn’t mad, you were never unprofessional with any of the campers, you did your job. But I feel like you’re…more settled somehow?”
It was possible he’d slept with a couple of his fellow staff members last year before he’d gotten bustified. And maybe a farewell shag with a camper too, but Heather didn’t need to know about that. “I guess?”
He dribbled a ball and then gave Heather another soft shot that should be an easy return. She didn’t miss this time, although there wasn’t much more power to her hit. He could practically see her racquet wobble. How could she not see that he was right?
They volleyed, and he thought he’d escaped her interrogation, but when she missed a shot that was close to the line, she started talking again. Because of course she did.
“Don’t ‘I guess’ me, Nathington Preppersford Carter—”
“Oh my god, did Van give you lessons?”
Another grin. Damn, what was with the women in his life totally having his number? His mom, Willa, Van, Ruby, and now Heather? Who was going to be next—Chloe? The thought terrified him. The ten-year-old could be adorable, but she was scrappy, too.
“She may have taught me a thing or two, yes. Now, back to the important things. You’re definitely not as rabble-rousing as last year, and you haven’t asked for a single weekend off. Which you’re due, by the way, so you should take one.”
He opened his mouth to protest, but she cocked a threatening eyebrow and he shut up real fast.
“Don’t argue with me. Just say, ‘Thank you, Heather.’”
“Thank you, Heather.”
Last year, he would’ve jumped at the chance for a weekend off. Hell, he probably would’ve taken at least one by now. Not that he’d taken advantage of the camp director and her husband, but if there was a chance to get away for a day or two, hell yes, he was going to take it. But with Ruby here? Why would he want to be somewhere else?
“I’m surprised that sister of yours didn’t beat the sass right out of you. Or your mother. Sheesh. Anyway, yes, you should take a damn weekend off.”
“Sure, next weekend would be good if you don’t already have too many staff taking off. Thanks.”
He sent yet another ball over and watched Heather’s form as she lined up her shot. This one might actually be good. And good it was, as Heather bashed the ball right at him. The flying ball of neon green fuzz hit him straight on in the stomach, and while it startled him, it didn’t actually h
urt. Much.
Just enough to make Heather cackle and pump her fist as he let out a theatrical groan and doubled over before doing a death lurch and tumbling onto the court.
***
“I have this weekend off.”
“Oh.” Why was he telling her this? Because he wanted to spend it with her or because he was going to be away? Ruby definitely wasn’t the kind of girl to pine after a man who’d left town for the weekend, so she hedged. “That’s nice.”
“It is.”
Nate shoved his hands in his pockets, a gesture she hadn’t seen from him since after he’d met Chloe. Since they’d started parting with a kiss, she’d realized he’d been shoving his hands in his pockets so he wouldn’t touch her, and the idea made her heart give a little squeeze. And since she’d lifted the physical contact embargo, those hands with their long, elegant, and talented fingers usually hung easily at his sides, unless he was gesticulating wildly to emphasize some point he was making or increase the hilarity of his stories. Which was most of the time. So this? Weird.
They walked to the next cross street in silence before she nudged him.
“Was there a reason you were telling me that you have the weekend off or were you just sharing?”
He turned, and his eyes were wide. Was…was this what Nate was like when he was nervous? Did Nate get nervous? She’d never seen any evidence that he could. She’d seen him many ways—chatty, funny, good-naturedly embarrassed, stubborn, in the throes of passion, in caretaker mode—but she’d never seen this. His throat worked, sending his Adam’s apple bobbing.
Nate Carter was nervous.
“I was thinking about going to my parents’ house. They live about an hour and half from here.”
Why would that make him nervous? As far as she could tell, the Carters genuinely enjoyed each other. Not all the time, because they were still human—barely—but for the most part. Nate loved his parents, so why would he be nervous about going home?
“Okay…”
Love, All (Camp Firefly Falls Book 19) Page 9