by Lara Lacombe
She had to wonder, though. As pleasant as this time was, would Nate want to stick around after the situation was resolved? Maybe he was only being nice because he knew she was scared, and once the mystery assailant was caught, he’d go back to his job and she’d go back to her life, splitting her time between the store and writing her thesis. The thought was like a dark cloud blocking out the sun, and she deliberately pushed the idea from her mind. If this was the only time she’d have with Nate, she didn’t want to spend it dwelling on how lonely she’d be once it was over.
His phone rang, and he pulled it out of his pocket to check the display. Fiona’s heart rate kicked up—was that his partner calling with news about the man who’d broken into her home? But Nate merely frowned at the phone and pressed a button to silence the ringer. He slipped it back into his pocket and caught her gaze.
“Don’t you need to get that? We can take a break,” she offered.
“Nah. It’s just my mom.”
“Don’t you want to talk to her?”
“Not right now,” he said, picking up another ornament. “I’m not in the mood for a lecture.”
“Oh.” She didn’t know how to respond. Nate’s attitude toward his family, and his mother, in particular, mystified her. She’d give anything to still have a family that cared about her. How could he take that for granted?
A small knot of worry formed in her stomach, and she bit her bottom lip. Was Nate more like her father than she had thought? Was he the type to always put his job first, at the expense of his family?
“You got quiet,” he observed. “Everything okay?”
She nodded. “Yeah. I just...” She trailed off, uncertain. She didn’t want to offend him, but maybe she could make him understand why his reaction to his mom’s call bothered him.
“You just what?” He sounded genuinely curious, so she decided to forge ahead.
“I don’t understand why you didn’t take your mom’s call. She obviously wants to talk to you. Maybe she has some important news.”
“She doesn’t.” His tone was flat and expressionless.
“But how can you be sure?” she pressed.
“Because she never does. All she ever wants to talk about is what a bad son I am because I don’t spend enough time with them.” He sounded annoyed, but underneath his irritation Fiona thought she detected a note of hurt.
“Maybe she misses you, but she doesn’t know how to express it.”
“Maybe,” he replied, but she could tell from his voice he didn’t believe her.
“Have you tried talking to her about it?”
“No.” He sighed, then turned to face her. “Look, can we talk about something else? We were having a nice time. I don’t want to ruin it by thinking about my family.”
“Sure.” She didn’t want to upset him, especially after he’d helped her so much today. But she couldn’t just drop it—not until she did her best to help him. “I just think you’re making a mistake.”
“Fiona,” he began, a warning note in his tone.
“I’d give anything to have a family,” she said quickly, before he could stop her. “You are so lucky to have a mom that cares about you and wants to see you. I’d hate to see you waste that time and regret it later. That’s all.”
He was silent for a moment, and now that she wasn’t talking, she felt the tension that had developed between them. Had she made a mistake? Maybe she had overstepped the bounds of their burgeoning relationship. The closeness they’d developed tonight had made her think they were on their way to being friends, if not more, but perhaps she had ruined that by saying too much, too soon.
She bit her lip, waiting for him to respond. There was more she wanted to say, but this wasn’t the time.
Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, he replied. “Thanks for your concern.”
She let out her breath, realizing she’d pushed him as far as she dared for tonight. It was time to change the subject. “Is it just me, or do they start playing Christmas carols earlier every year? They started before Thanksgiving this year, which I think is just too soon.”
Nate didn’t respond right away, and Fiona felt a flutter of fear in her stomach. Was he done talking to her now? Had she wrecked their nice evening after all?
“I know what you mean,” he said. “I think the stores start bringing out the decorations right after Halloween.”
She felt the tension drop as they both turned back to the tree. “Poor Thanksgiving,” she remarked. “It really gets shortchanged in the buildup, and that’s too bad. It’s one of my favorite holidays.”
“Really?” He sounded curious now. “Most people I know are eager to get to Christmas because of the gifts.”
“I felt that way when I was a kid,” she said. “But once I got older, I realized how nice it is to have a whole day to celebrate food. What other day can you go back for a third slice of pie and no one judges you for it?”
He laughed, and the sound lightened her mood. “I hadn’t thought of it that way.”
She eyed his trim waist and broad shoulders. “That’s because you’ve probably never worried about gaining weight before,” she said wryly.
He gave her a thoughtful look. “I don’t think I can respond to that without getting into trouble.”
Fiona grinned back. “Why, whatever do you mean?”
“If I agree with you, I’ll sound like an overconfident jerk who spends too much time at the gym. But if I disagree, you won’t believe me because as a man, I don’t face the same kind of judgment women do when it comes to what I eat. So you see, I can’t win this one.”
She laughed, enjoying his logic. “It sounds like you’ve figured out the mysteries of the female brain.”
“Really?” He sounded so hopeful that Fiona couldn’t help but laugh again.
“No. But you’re off to a good start.”
“Well, I suppose that’s something,” he grumbled.
Fiona picked up the star and held it out. “Ready for the final touch?”
“You do it,” he said. “This is your comeback tree. It’s only fitting you be the one to put the star on top.”
“My comeback tree?” She smiled at the expression.
“You know what I mean,” he said, the tips of his ears turning an adorable shade of pink. “It’s your first tree in years. Finish it off.”
She turned back and rose to her tiptoes, but she couldn’t reach the top. She rocked back onto her heels, but before she could grab a chair to drag over, Nate stepped behind her. He was so close she could feel the heat of his body through her clothes. “Allow me,” he said softly, his voice a low rumble in her ear. Before she could respond, he bent and put his arms around her waist. Then he straightened, lifting her up so she could reach the top of the tree.
It took her a few tries to secure the star to the branch, but, in her defense, being so close to Nate was distracting. His arms were like steel bands wrapped around her waist, strong and unbreakable. It felt so good to be pressed up against him, to feel the solid wall of his chest at her back and the warmth of his breath between her shoulder blades. Goose bumps broke out on her skin as a tingling sensation spread from her center down her arms and legs. She couldn’t remember the last time someone had held her like this.
When Nate saw the star was in place, he gradually released the tension in his arms. Fiona slid slowly down his body, her back traveling the masculine planes of his chest and hips and thighs until her feet hit the floor. Still, Nate held her against him, keeping his arms around her to secure her gently in place. She shuddered slightly, the unfamiliar physical contact with a man—with Nate—both thrilling and unsettling in equal measures.
“Fiona.” His voice was a raw whisper in her ear, low and gravelly. The sound set off fireworks in her belly and her knees trembled a little, threatening to give out. She tilted her head back in acknowledgment, not trusting her voice.
“Turn around,” he commanded. He loosened his arms a little to give her room to
move, but she couldn’t make her body obey. She wanted him, wanted this, but it felt like her brain was no longer in control, and her muscles had turned to jelly in the wake of his touch.
“Turn around,” he said again, and this time, he put his hand on her hips and moved her into place. God, was there anything sexier than the way he took charge? Fiona was simultaneously aroused and grateful. It had been so long since she’d been touched by a man—not since college. And while she was certain her body would remember what to do, part of her was still scared. Would he know right away she was out of practice? What if she couldn’t satisfy him?
A small voice in her head told her to stop, to simply tell him. Nate was a reasonable man, and he would understand. Better for him to adjust his expectations so he wouldn’t be disappointed. But her body overrode her common sense, insisting that if she stopped him now, it would be a waste of a good opportunity.
He placed one finger under her chin and lifted until her eyes met his. They were a dark, mossy green in the light from the tree, and for a moment, she could only stare in wonder at the heat she saw there. He wanted her! The thought sent bubbles of sensation cascading through her veins, and her head began to spin, making her feel tipsy.
A slow, sexy grin spread across his face, and she felt her own lips curve up in return. Her gaze dropped to his mouth and the light dusting of stubble on his cheeks and chin. Before she was aware of having the thought, her hand lifted of its own accord, and her fingertips landed on his chin. She explored the sandpaper roughness, enjoying the raspy texture against her own smooth skin.
“Do you like that?” His voice matched the texture of his beard, sending another jolt of sensation down her spine.
“Yes,” she said simply.
“Guess I’m throwing out my razor then,” he replied, swallowing hard as her fingers drifted down the column of his throat. He closed his eyes for a moment, apparently savoring her touch.
“Do you like that?” she asked, repeating his question with a smile.
“Uh-huh,” he said, making a low humming sound in his throat. “Feel free to touch me anywhere you want.”
Anywhere? The thought triggered a flood of images and possibilities as Fiona considered her options. Her confidence grew with each pass of her fingers across his skin, and she smiled as the balance between them began to shift in her favor. Her body was no longer overwhelmed by arousal, helpless and at the mercy of Nate’s touch. No, she was back in charge now, and the realization that she could give him pleasure filled her with a sensuous determination to make the most of it.
As if sensing this change in attitude, Nate opened his eyes and regarded her thoughtfully. Without warning, he bent and captured her mouth with his.
This was a proper kiss. No more of that barely there whisper of contact or affectionate peck of gratitude. This kiss was demanding and powerful, sweeping her up in a swirl of sensation and making it crystal clear that there was unfinished business between the two of them. She could sense Nate’s impatience and frustration at their earlier, unsatisfactory attempts and his satisfaction at finally, finally, reaching his goal.
Fiona felt the same way, pouring all her earlier frustration and pent-up attraction into their embrace. Why hadn’t they done this sooner? Why had they danced around this attraction, this force drawing them together? Life was too short to ignore such a powerful impulse, especially one that felt so good.
Nate broke the kiss to suck in a gasping breath. “Fiona,” he said, before lowering his mouth to hers again.
“Hmm?”
He framed her face in his hands, feathering light kisses across her forehead, her cheeks, down her neck. “We should stop.”
“Sure.” The word was an automatic reaction; at this point, she would have agreed to almost anything he asked. It took a moment for the meaning of his words to actually sink in. “Wait, what did you say?” Surely she had misunderstood him? He didn’t really want to stop, did he?
Nate pressed his forehead against hers, their breath mingling in the space between their lips. “We should stop,” he repeated, his voice full of regret.
“Okay,” she replied, trying to understand. “But why?” Had she done something wrong? Was he not enjoying this?
“I don’t want us to move too fast.” He pressed a kiss to her forehead and took a small step back, putting a few inches of space between them. It may as well have been a canyon’s distance across, for it cut the link between them just as effectively.
“Ah, I see.” Except she didn’t, not really. In her admittedly limited experience, guys weren’t the ones concerned about moving too fast. She felt his rejection like a sting, sharp and sudden in her chest.
Her thoughts must have shown on her face, because Nate rushed to explain. “Please don’t take this the wrong way. I care about you. You know I want you.” He gestured impatiently to the front of his pants and the evidence of his desire. “But I don’t want to rush into this.”
“It’s okay,” she said. As the fog of arousal cleared out of her brain, she realized he was right. They barely knew each other, and she didn’t want to dive into a physical relationship with him before figuring out if they had the potential for something long-term. She had nothing against the idea of a fling, but that approach had never worked for her before.
“I didn’t mean for it to go this far,” he admitted. “I thought I could stop at a kiss and be satisfied with that.”
Fiona smiled. “I know what you mean. I’ve never felt such an intense reaction before.”
He pushed a hand through his hair and let out a sigh. “Me, either. Which is why I don’t want to just jump into bed. I think we may have something special here. I’d hate to mess it up before we can find out.”
“I agree.”
“You do? Really?” He sounded relieved, and she realized he had been worried about her reaction. The fact that he cared put yet another check mark in the plus column of her mental ledger.
“Really,” she assured him. “I usually don’t get physical this fast, and I think I would have ended up regretting it if we had slept together.”
“Yeah. I would have felt bad about it, too.”
They were silent for a moment, both of them studying the tree as they searched for something else to say.
Nate spoke first. “You look beautiful standing next to the lights.”
She felt her cheeks warm at the heartfelt compliment. “So do you,” she said softly.
He laughed, the sound a low rumble in the otherwise quiet room. “No one’s ever told me that before.”
“Really?”
“Really. It’s not exactly the kind of adjective people usually apply to me.”
She ran her eyes over his face, the planes of his brows and cheekbones, the way his stubble took on a golden hue in the reflected light from the tree. His expression was open, almost vulnerable as he watched her. He was beautiful. And in that moment, she ached to be the one who got to see this unguarded version of Nate all the time.
“I imagine the guys you arrest are more interested in their own problems than coming up with a description of your looks,” she teased.
He smiled, his eyes warming. “You may be right.”
Slinky chose this moment to jump down from the couch, meowing loudly as he came to stand at Fiona’s feet.
“Does he need something?” Nate studied the big cat like he was a mystery he was trying to decipher. “Is he hungry or something?”
“He’s ready for bed,” Fiona explained. “This is our normal bedtime, and he’s just reminding me to get back on schedule.”
“I didn’t know cats could tell time.”
“Oh, yeah. Stick around, and you can catch the morning show where he acts as my alarm clock because he’s hungry.”
Nate chuckled. “I should probably get going then, so you guys can turn in.”
Fiona nodded, but the thought of Nate leaving sent a cold chill down her spine. “Sure,” she said, trying to sound casual. She’d known he was going
to leave all along, but now that the moment was here, the fear of being alone was rising quickly in her chest like a noxious tide.
Nate looked at her closely. “Are you okay?”
“Yes.” She nodded. “Just tired.” It was true. The craziness of the day was catching up to her, and she wanted nothing more than to fall into bed and sleep away her bad memories.
“Would you like me to stay?” He sounded genuinely curious, and his question sparked a flare of gratitude in her belly.
“Are you sure it wouldn’t be too much trouble?” She didn’t want to inconvenience him further, but the idea of having him nearby was comforting...
“Not at all. I can bunk on the couch.” He glanced at it, then back at her. “Slinky already warmed it up for me.”
Fiona smiled. “He’s good at that.”
“Go on.” Nate gestured to the bedroom. “I’ll get settled here. We can start fresh in the morning.”
That sounded heavenly, and Fiona closed her eyes in blissful appreciation of the idea. “You really are the best,” she said, already taking a step in the direction of the bedroom.
“Get some rest,” Nate called after her.
She flipped the light on and closed the door, then thought better of it and left it open a crack. Slinky would need access to the litter box during the night, and she didn’t want to have to get up to let him out. It took only a few minutes to slip into the nightshirt she’d bought earlier and to brush her teeth. Then she climbed under the covers, her fatigue overcoming her initial reticence about sleeping in someone else’s bed.
What a day. After such a rough start, she hadn’t imagined anything good could come of it. But Nate had turned it all around and had given her something positive to focus on. And the way he’d kissed her! Tingles ran through her body as she remembered the feel of his lips against hers, the warmth of his tongue.
She closed her eyes with a sigh and drifted off to sleep, thoughts of Nate keeping her fears at bay.
Chapter 9
Fiona smiled at him, a come-hither look that sent all the blood in his body racing south. Her eyes were dark and sultry, and her auburn hair was tousled around her face, making her look every inch the temptress. She slowly sauntered over, teasing him with every sway of her hips, until she stood just inches away.