by Bria Quinlan
I stopped, trying to figure out how I felt. I looked up at him, my nerdy, germaphobe, funny, goofy, caring Tim, and felt a bit blindsided.
“Let’s get out of here.” Tim took my hand and guided me through the crowd back to where someone had taken my wrap.
I was still trying to figure out how I felt, what this meant, when he placed me gently in the car, all but buckling me in before hurrying around to the other side.
As we drove back down the drive, a profound sense of relief washed over me, leaving behind a tension I hadn’t known I’d felt along with the oversize historic mansion I would have loved a tour of…as a visitor, not a guest.
“We’re going back to Nocturne Falls?” I asked, because I wasn’t sure what else to say.
“No. We’re going to my place.” Tim stared straight ahead, no subtle glances or handholding this time. “We’re going to work this out. You’re going to see where I live and how normal it is. If we have to go to my office, we’ll do that. We’ll look in my closets and you can count how many very normal white button-down shirts I own—sans cufflinks. We’re going to sit on my boring guy leather couch, and we’re going to talk.”
“Oh.” I’d never had a guy tell me he was taking me back to his place to talk.
I mean, I’d had guys invite me back to their room to chat, but I always knew what that meant. And, as someone who couldn’t trust the motivations of almost anyone I met in my parents’ worlds, that was just not an invitation I was going to take up.
And now, I’d found a guy I wanted to go to his room for a, um, chat, and he wanted to talk?
But, he was right. I turned my head to watch the world go by, watching the houses get closer together and the street lights turn into functioning utilities and not just pretty fake oil lanterns.
We pulled into a tall, modern-looking building’s parking garage, Tim going right to a numbered spot and parking with ease. He sat there, both hands still on the wheel with his thinking face on.
All I wanted to do was lean over and muss his hair and kiss him silly, to make him look like my Tim again. The slightly awkward, more than slightly nerdy, very, very good man. I needed to rein in this lust and focus on reality.
“Wait there.” He hopped out of the car and came around to open my door. “This is my parking garage. I have two spots but only one car. I don’t think I need another car. Maybe someday I’ll need another spot. But not another car.”
I melted a little at the look he gave me. What kind of girl melted at the idea that she might one day get to park in a certain parking spot?
I took his offered hand to assist me out of the car as I attempted to set the lust and the falling aside. I’d be rational. Reasonable. I’d be—
Tim pulled me right out of the car and into his arms.
I let myself fall, fall right into him, the momentum the excuse I wanted to be in his arms. I told myself just a moment, laugh it off, but as I started to pull back, his hand slid up my back, soft and silky over the red satin I’d hated just a few hours before. It tangled in my hair, pulling my head back so our gazes clashed fast and hard, like the breath wooshing out of my body.
His lips brushed against mine, sure, firm…not the awkward accountant-type kiss I would have expected when I’d first met him. This kiss was hot and sure and so delicious that my heart may have completely given out with another moment of it.
He eased back, his lips sweeping once, twice, across my own again. Before I could lean forward, coax him back, he dropped his hands and stepped back, taking my hand in his again.
“And now, we’re going upstairs to talk.”
I followed along, slightly dazed, my hand in his to the elevator at the end of the garage.
“I live on the fourth floor. There are six floors, so there’s nothing special about that.” He stood, watching the numbers over the doors light up. One. Two. Three. Ding.
We stepped out, and he turned us to the right. There were two doors on each side, a small but elegant hallway.
“This is my apartment. I do have someone clean every other week. But that’s because I’m a guy. And lazy when it comes to cleaning.” He cleared his throat. “I may have called them and asked them to come by today, just in case.”
I lowered my head and smiled at his running narrative. It was putting me at ease like nothing else could. The lock clicked, and the door fell open.
“This is my condo. I own it. I bought it years ago, and although it’s true I could buy something bigger or fancier or more expensive, I like it here. It’s close to work, and it’s all I really need.” He flicked on the lights in his small foyer and glanced around, probably wondering what it was I saw.
I saw contentment.
Tim had obviously made this a home, a sanctuary. It was neat and uncluttered, but with fine touches that showed the personal side of him and welcomed you into his life.
Large leather furniture, a huge flat screen, windows looking over the city in the distance. It was a lovely apartment. And, it wasn’t oversize or luxurious. It was just very nice.
Like its occupant.
“This is my kitchen.” He pulled me farther in, showing me a very nice kitchen. “I don’t do it justice. I feel guilty making Eggos in there instead of real breakfasts, but every time I consider taking classes, I chicken out.”
“Why?” I asked, before I could stop myself.
He shrugged. “I don’t really feel like learning how to make a bunch of food and then having no one to cook for.”
Oh, I knew that feeling. That Is it better to just stay how I am because of where I am? feeling.
“That,” he pointed at a door next to the kitchen, “is the bathroom. And then the guest room. That’s my bedroom. It has its own bathroom but nothing crazy. No seven faucet waterfall showers or Jacuzzi tubs. Just a normal bathroom. For a normal guy.”
“Aren’t you going to show me those?” I asked, starting to feel like yes, this was good—this was normal. But more importantly, this is what I wanted.
“Maybe later.” He gave me a smile so heated, I felt it through my skin.
“Oh.”
He pulled me around and led me to the couch, where he waited until I sat and then asked me what I wanted to drink. As he poured our wine and pulled some crackers and grapes out to place on the plate, I glanced around again.
There was no way the guy here was living an old-money life or even a new-money life. He was comfortable and happy and content. It was a home, not a showpiece. It was all so very him.
He came back and joined me on the couch, setting the wine and food on the coffee table so he could slip an arm around me.
“Why did you tell me you were just a numbers guy?”
I felt him shrug as I rested my head on his shoulder, already knowing that I was going to finish my fall tonight.
“I just always think of myself that way. I don’t get to design as much as I used to,” he said wistfully. “I’m mostly just okaying stuff and running numbers and keeping everyone on track. I kind of miss the whole ‘will we pay our bills this month’ thing.”
“You set this up without family money?” I couldn’t believe it.
I mean, I guess I could. I wanted to make my way without family money. But I hadn’t started an internationally successful company.
“Yup. You can’t imagine the strings my mother has attached to it.”
“Actually, I can.”
I saw suddenly that he was right, that we were the same. In all the important ways and beliefs, we matched. It mattered, and I was thankful to know that going in.
“I want you to know…what I was trying to say earlier is…” He cleared his throat, and my heart sped up. “I wanted to tell you that I’m falling hard for you. I don’t want to put any pressure on you at all, but if you’re not into the life I have, I need to know.”
The muscles under my hand had gone stiff and anxious. To be honest, I was feeling the same way. I was so afraid that one wrong word would have him running.
; “If I wasn’t?” I asked, because, what if…what if things change? What if outside of this perfect moment it’s not as good?
“Then we compromise where we can—if that’s what you want.” He shifted so he could look down at me. “I can’t get rid of my parents. You can’t get rid of yours. Neither one of us is going to throw money in a furnace just to get a little closer to the average tax bracket if we inherit anything. But, this is the life I want. I’m hoping it’s the one you want, too.”
“Are you sure we can’t get rid of our parents?”
“Yes. Too high profile all around. But, I can promise you one thing.” He winked at me as he leaned in to whisper. “I will never, ever run for governor.”
My laughter tickled my throat and barely escaped as his lips came down to brush against mine.
“Can you see it? Can you see us making this match, making these crazy lives just a little more normal for both of us?”
I could. And I couldn’t wait to start.
So this time, I kissed him.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
MINX
The average couple is together 14.5 months before getting married.
The next morning, I woke up, wrapped in Tim’s sheets but sadly not Tim.
I opened my eyes, glad for the drapes, and studied his room—the dark, classic furniture, the very large bed, the en suite with a shower I should probably jump in. The scent of coffee tickled my nose, and I knew he’d have made tea for me as well.
Tea would be good. A morning kiss would be better.
I sat up and…waited.
I’d packed an overnight bag, but with all the craziness last night, I’d forgotten it. It was still down in the car.
I guess I’d just have to make do. Sliding into Tim’s button-down shirt, I was glad for my height, if not my figure. I got almost all the buttons done, and it was long enough to practically be a dress.
Wandering into the kitchen, I found Tim there, dressed for lust in just his pajama bottoms.
There was a teapot on a little tray, and he was just finishing pouring his own coffee. I wish I had a camera.
“Hey,” I said, trying not to surprise the man holding steaming cups of liquid.
“Hey.” His voice was low and intimate. A new layer to it that gave me goose bumps up one arm and right down the other. “I made you some tea.”
He watched me pad barefoot into the kitchen, right up to him, and—before I could reach for the tea, he’d set it aside and I was back in his arms.
It was as though the entire world melted away, was insignificant when I was there. His kisses this morning were different, more sure, more possessive. If I’d doubted that my hot beta nerd was anything more than a hot alpha guy in private… Well, let’s just say, if I were sharing, you’d be taking notes.
I was just thinking how I might not need my bag yet…seeing as Tim had backed me up against the fridge and was kissing his way down my neck…when his phone rang.
“Ignore it.” He kissed on.
The voice mail sounded, and then my phone rang.
“Ignore it,” he growled, taking my mouth so I couldn’t argue with him.
Not that I was planning on it.
I was more than ready for him to take me back to bed—or wherever—when his phone rang again.
Tim dropped his head on my shoulder, taking a deep breath, and brought his gaze up to clash with mine.
“We can’t ignore it, can we?”
I shook my head, trying to clear it more than agreeing with him, but he’d already reached for his phone.
“What?”
Wow. Not my normal easygoing Tim right now.
“What?” he asked this time, sounding a bit more concerned. “You keep breaking up. Can you repeat that? Okay. We’ll be there in about an hour. Just…we’ll be there. Okay?”
We drove the ride back in near silence. Tim was a mix of so many emotions I probably couldn’t name them all. He focused on the road as if we could beep and all the cars in front of us would disappear. That he could get us there in record time if only…
We’d been in a rush since he’d hung up, stunned. There were no more kisses in the kitchen. He had only turned to me and said, “Willow called.”
Both of us kicked into high gear to get showered, dressed, and on the road as quickly as possible.
Once we were in the car, I felt like I could distract him with some questions.
“What did they say? Is Willow okay? Is she on her way home?” My heart fell at the idea that I could be on my way today. Off to a new job, somewhere hopefully not far from Tim so that we could continue figuring out what this was.
And Gus. Would Willow let me see him when I was here? Would she stay here? She wasn’t the first parent I wondered if they were capable of taking care of the child when I left, but she was the first one I took this personally.
“They just said Willow called and she said not to worry.” Tim shook his head, as if not surprised Willow would think worrying about her was the biggest concern with Gus in the picture. “They said they tried to get a return date for her…but the phone kept going in and out. It was weird.”
“Okay.” I reached out and took his hand, pulling it from the steering wheel he gripped with an intensity that would leave his hands aching. “It’s okay. We’ll get home—back, and figure this all out.”
He nodded, letting me pet his free hand as he drove, chilling out a bit as we got closer to Nocturne Falls—and closer to figuring out what the heck was going on.
Tim didn’t even bother pulling in the garage. Just drove right up the drive and pulled in behind my car. I hopped out before he had to decide if he needed to slow down to open my door or not.
We rushed in to find Calla, the kids, and her husband, Rond, sitting in the living room, the kids just starting to doze off.
Gus made such cute welcoming gurgles when we rushed in, that I paused in my concern and hurried over to pick him up off the play mat he was rolling back and forth on.
“Hey, buddy.” I kissed his little head, breathing in his special baby Gus scent.
When Tim’s arm came around me, I realized this is what I wanted. Gus reached out to Tim for his kisses, too, and his uncle swept him up, giving him a bounce before kissing his head and leading us both over to the couch.
“What did Willow say?” Tim asked, his intensity ratcheting up about twelve notches.
“What Tim means to say is, thanks so much for watching Gus. We really appreciate it. We hurried back because he couldn’t hear you on the phone. Is everything okay?” I said, nudging him with my leg.
“Yes, of course. That’s what I meant to say.”
“We didn’t mean to worry you, but we had some realizations after Willow’s call, so we wanted to make sure we could all sit down and talk about them,” Rond said.
“Is it about my guardianship, because, if it’s a problem, I’ll make it permanent. I wouldn’t mind that anyway. Willow can be flighty, and if Gus living with me makes this better, that’s not a problem. Willow can live with us when she wants to.”
I smiled up at Tim, so proud of the man he was. I pat his leg to let him know that I was there with him, agreeing with his offer.
“It’s more Gus’s other issue that we thought would be the best thing to discuss,” Rond said.
“His other issue?” Tim asked, looking down at where Gus had conked out in his arms.
“We thought you knew.” Calla glanced at her husband, more concerned than I could explain. “But then we noticed some things around the house that weren’t baby proofed.”
“What?” Tim sat up, nearly waking Gus as he did. “I had a checklist. What did I miss?”
“Oh, you didn’t miss anything. Well, nothing normal. But the problem is, Gus isn’t a normal baby, is he?” Calla said it gently, like we might go on the defensive of how we were caring for him.
“He’s a handful,” I said. “But haven’t seen any developmental issues or health concerns since I got here.”
“Do you know where his parents are?” Rond asked, obviously trying to steer us back toward whatever path they’d wanted to discuss.
“Not at the moment,” Tim replied. “Willow, my sister, went looking for his father. But he’s not listed on the birth certificate, and we can’t figure out who owns this house. She just said it was hers for now and to stay here until she came back with Gus’s father because there was something wrong with him.”
“Wrong how?” Rond asked.
“I don’t know. I wanted to bring him back to Atlanta right then for tests, but she said she had to find his father first. That without him that wouldn’t matter.” Tim looked down at Gus and kissed his fuzzy little head. “And the next morning, without a word, she was gone.”
The couple traded looks that had my stomach dropping. They knew more than they were telling us, and I’d seen enough couples do that silent communication thing to know something was coming.
Something we wouldn’t want to hear.
I reached out, needing to be brought into the circle so I could hold up my boys. Tim’s hand met mine halfway and clung.
“First off, Willow is fine. She’s…” Rond glanced at Calla as if he was afraid to continue but did anyway. “She seems to be enjoying her adventure. She did ask after Gus once she told us she wouldn’t be back soon because of looking for his dad.”
I tried not to get angry, but Gus deserved to be loved and the primary focus of his mother. I was doing the judge’y thing again.
“There’s nothing wrong with Gus that a few years and some guidance won’t help. He’s not sick or anything like that. I’m sorry if you’ve been worried this whole time.” Calla looked at her husband helplessly. “I didn’t know. How could I not have known?”