by Ellis, Aven
I twist my hair in my hands. “He was hurt, Lexi. Nate is taking things slow because of that.”
“Since when does slow mean never?” Lexi asks pointedly.
“When your heart has been destroyed,” I answer softly.
“But he’s crazy about you,” Lexi says. “Kenley, don’t overanalyze this. Please don’t. Nate likes you. There’s no reason that can’t grow to love.”
I don’t say anything. I continue to loop my hair around my finger, thinking of what Lexi doesn’t know. That Nate once loved a woman enough to move quickly, to have her move in with him in less than six months, to think she was The One. Then to have it all crash in on him. To be betrayed at the highest level. To be hurt so badly he never wanted to date anyone again.
“My biggest fear,” I say slowly, “is that Nate will take baby steps but never take that leap. And what if I’m too starry-eyed to miss the signs? Or my instinct is wrong?”
“All you can do is keep your eyes open and follow your heart,” Lexi counsels. “It hasn’t led you wrong this time, has it?”
“No,” I admit.
But it did before, I think with worry. And I just pray it doesn’t lead me wrong again.
Because if it did—and Nate doesn’t want the same thing, to be in a long-term relationship with me—I’ll be destroyed. It will be worse than what happened with Chase.
But this time, I know I’ll never recover.
“So we have to do this coffee date thing, take some pictures, and then we can do whatever you want for the day,” Nate says, squeezing my hand in his as he drives us to The Roast and Grind.
“We’re already doing what I want,” I say, glancing at his profile. “I want to be with you. It doesn’t matter what we do today. I missed you, Nate.”
Oh, how I missed him. The second I opened my apartment door to find him on the other side made me realize it even more. And now here I am, back with Nate, riding in his Bentley to go get coffee and do our PR bit for The Roast and Grind and Purr & Wag rescue.
I study his profile as he drives. My man is wearing his aviator shades, black T-shirt and shorts. And the second he hears me say I missed him, a gorgeous smile filters across his face.
“I missed you too, Bae,” Nate says. “You have no idea how good it feels to be home.”
Then he picks up my hand and brushes his lips against the top.
Normally I’d relish the feel of his lips on my skin, but my brain is fixated on the fact that he called Dallas home. That’s the first time he hasn’t said, “feels more like home” or “becoming home.”
Nate called Dallas his home.
Okay, I shouldn’t overthink this. He could be meaning home as in his condo, the city he has to live in during hockey season.
Or could Dallas feel like home now because of me?
“So you don’t mind posing with a puppy for our date today?” Nate asks, interrupting my thoughts.
I blink. Baby steps, I think, refocusing. Apparently I need to remember that for myself, too.
“Of course not,” I say. “I love animals.”
“Cats or dogs?”
“Both,” I say. “I can’t choose. I want to have both someday.”
Nate grins. “Me, too.”
“Did you have both growing up?”
Nate nods. “Yeah, my parents are big animal lovers, so we always had dogs and cats in the house. How about you?”
I shake my head. “No. My mom doesn’t like animals because, in her words, ‘they smell and shed and throw up.’”
“Ah, so CiCi wasn’t having it, huh?”
I chuckle at the fact that he’s already calling my mom CiCi. “Oh, she so wasn’t having it.” Then I smile. “Speaking of CiCi, she’s quite alarmed about your newfound love affair with Harrison on Tumble.”
Nate bursts out laughing, and I laugh with him.
“So I take it new Fan Fics have started?” Nate asks.
“Yes. You and Harrison are the biggest bromance in hockey apparently,” I say. “So new Fan Fics are up and running.”
“Good to know I’ve fallen in love again,” Nate quips.
Yes, wouldn’t that be good if you did fall in love again?
We turn into the parking lot and find the people from Purr & Wag upfront. There’s a photographer, the owner of The Roast and Grind, and of course, fans.
Angie Hurst, a representative for Purr & Wag, goes over the shoot with us, saying we’ll be outside, enjoying drinks, and having a dog with us to promote both The Roast and Grind and adoptions.
Next I see a volunteer walking up to us, with the most adorable puppy on a leash.
“Nate,” I say, pointing at the puppy. “Aw, he’s cute!”
Angie glances over her shoulder and turns back to us. “That’s Boone. He’s a bloodhound and German shepherd mix. Two months old. Isn’t he adorable?”
“I can see that,” Nate says. “He’s got the German shepherd markings but the ears like a bloodhound.”
“Look at his paws,” I say, noticing how big they are. “He’s going to be huge when he grows up.”
The young volunteer brings Boone to us, and he goes straight to Nate, his tail wagging. Nate instantly drops to one knee and puts his hand out for Boone to sniff. “Hey, buddy, how are you? Aren’t you cute?”
Boone begins licking Nate’s hand, and he laughs. I bend down as well, totally smitten with Boone’s big brown eyes and tan, black, and fawn-colored coat. I let Boone sniff my hand, too. Then Nate picks him up, and Boone begins excitedly licking his face, which makes Nate burst out laughing.
Nate is holding a puppy. I swear it’s the sweetest, sexiest, most wonderful thing I’ve ever seen.
“Aren’t you a good boy?” Nate says, standing up with Boone in his huge arms.
“Nate, can we take some pictures?” the photographer asks.
“Of course,” Nate says.
Mark, the photographer, begins snapping Nate and Boone. And I can see how much Nate is enjoying playing with this puppy on this beautiful September day.
“Why don’t we get some pictures with your date?” Mark asks.
Nate grins. “My date. Absolutely.”
I laugh and join him. We both take turns holding Boone, and one with both of us holding him in-between us. Then Mark shoots some of Nate walking Boone on a leash. Next, we set up for a picture of us sitting at a patio table with iced coffee and desserts with Boone at our feet.
“Okay, I’ve got enough with the dog,” Mark declares. “We’ll get a few more of you and Kenley drinking and talking and then we’re done.”
The volunteer smiles and steps forward. “I’ll take him from you now.”
I watch as Nate hesitates. His hand hasn’t loosened on the leash.
“What’s his story?” Nate asks. “How did Boone end up in a rescue?”
Angie steps forward. “He was found in a parking lot.”
“Abandoned,” Nate says, still holding Boone.
“Yes,” Angie says. “He’s a high-energy dog, so he needs a lot of exercise and space.”
“I can give him that,” Nate declares.
“You want to adopt Boone?” Angie asks.
“Yeah, I do. I live in a condo, but I can hire a pet sitter for him when I’m on the road.”
“I bet Amanda would keep him,” I volunteer. “She’s a dog lover, and it would be a friend for Bogie to play with. And Claire would love it.”
“I already have paperwork on file,” Nate adds. “I did that as part of your promotion campaign. So I’m pre-approved.”
“You’d be good publicity for us,” Angie concludes. “Okay, Boone will be yours. We’ll arrange a time for you to get him.”
Nate flashes a smile and shakes Angie’s hand with
his free one. His other hand is still protectively cradled around Boone, which makes me want to melt.
Then I realize something. When Nate treasures something, he holds it close. Like Boone. Nate has Boone cradled into his chest in a protective way.
And close to his heart.
Just like how he held me all night when I spent the night with him.
Nate talks with Angie for a few minutes and gives Boone to the volunteer. Nate affectionately strokes his head one more time and kisses the top of Boone’s head.
“Dad will pick you up this week, okay?” Nate says.
Okay, I don’t think I can handle much more of Nate loving on a puppy without becoming a complete puddle on the patio.
As they walk away, Nate turns to me. “I couldn’t let him go.”
“I’m so glad you didn’t,” I say. “He’s a sweet boy.”
“It’s going to be awesome having a dog again. I’ve missed that.”
A few fans walk up for some autographs, which Nate happily signs. After they’re gone, Nate turns to me.
“I’m changing his name, though.”
“You are? You don’t like Boone?” I ask.
“There’s nothing wrong with Boone. But the name has to have meaning for me.”
Once again, Nate’s soulful side shines through.
“And what would that be?” I smile flirtatiously at him. “Zamboni?” I tease.
Nate laughs and draws me into his chest, and I feel warmth radiate down my spine as he holds me close to him. “Ah, you’re so funny. But no, I’m not naming him Zamboni.”
He begins to play with my hair, and I sigh happily in response.
“Okay, I’ll be serious. What are you renaming him?” I ask.
“Marabou,” he says simply.
My heart stops from his words. I lift my head up. “Your favorite chocolate,” I say.
Nate smiles at me. “You remembered.”
“Of course I do.”
Nate slides his hands up to my face. “I never thought about naming a dog after a chocolate bar before,” he says sexily. “But I never thought I’d meet anyone like you, either.”
I can’t breathe.
Nate said the name had meaning.
And the meaning is for me.
Chapter 21
Beveling: Removing the sharp edges of a cake, making a rounded edge, before icing it — Kenley
“Okay, Marabou, it’s your first park outing in Dallas,” Nate says as he parks his car. “Are you ready, buddy?”
I can’t help but laugh. “Nate, he’s the most prepared puppy on the planet for anything.”
Nate grins at me as he unbuckles his seatbelt. “So are you saying I went crazy at PetSmart last night?”
“Um, let’s see, Marabou has a crate, bowls, puppy food, leash, collar, bones, treats, car seat belts, and I seriously think he has more toys than Claire and Bella combined.”
Nate gets out of the car and goes to retrieve Marabou, who is strapped in with a doggie seatbelt.
“His life started out hard,” Nate says, standing up with the puppy in his arms. “He deserves to be spoiled. Don’t you, Marabou?”
Marabou barks right on cue.
I come around with the leash in my hand. I hook it up to this new collar and Nate sets him down. We walk toward Dallas Main Street Garden, an urban park right in the middle of downtown that has a dog run in it.
“I can’t believe I haven’t been here before,” I say as we leisurely stroll toward the park, with Marabou sniffing the entire time he wanders on his leash. “And you can’t complain about the weather today, Nate, because it’s gorgeous.”
Nate laughs. “It would be perfect if it were forty-five degrees.”
“Forty-five degrees?” I cry. “No, oh no, that’s way too cold.”
Nate bursts out laughing. “You’re so Texan. That isn’t cold. That’s sweatshirt weather.”
“No, that is sweater, boots, gloves, hat and parka weather.”
“I wear shorts when it’s forty-five degrees out.”
“Shut up, you do not.”
“Yes, I do, too. That’s not that cold.”
I shake my head. “I don’t like when it goes below fifty-five degrees.”
“You would be a terrible Midwesterner.”
I laugh. “I know, right?”
“You’d need someone to keep you warm,” Nate says, flashing me a sexy grin. “Then you might see the perks of cold weather.”
Okay, I think I could handle Minnesota if Nate is promising his body heat as protection against the chill.
We reach the park, which is beautifully designed in the shadows of skyscrapers. There are lush lawns, water fountains, sculptures, a children’s play area and a dog run, which we go in.
Dogs are frolicking on this beautiful afternoon, and once we are in the run, Nate lets Marabou off his leash. We take a seat on one of the benches, and the second we’re seated, Nate entwines his fingers with mine.
“Have you noticed that our puppy is the cutest one here?” Nate asks.
Our.
Our puppy.
Nate just made his first reference to us being an us.
Happiness and hope swirl through me. Another step has been taken, even if Nate didn’t realize the importance of letting that word pass his lips.
“Kenley?”
I blink. “Yes, our puppy is definitely the cutest one here.”
We watch as Marabou happily prances around the grass, greeting other dogs as he goes.
“So what’s on your agenda tomorrow?” Nate asks.
“Tomorrow is crazy,” I admit. “I’ve got to test some new recipes for wine truffles, because I’m teaching a class on those at a gourmet cooking club later in the week. Then I have lunch with Amanda and CiCi.”
“Ah, please tell CiCi that Harrison is the best lover I’ve ever had,” Nate jokes.
I feel my face burn. “Nate, she’s crazy,” I moan.
Nate laughs. “But she’s funny. So what’s after that?”
“I have to follow up on some orders for a bridal luncheon, run some numbers, stuff like that. Then I have a chocolate and brandy session for a private party in Southlake that night,” I say. Then I frown. “I’m so sorry I’m going to miss your game.”
“No, no, don’t be,” Nate says. “I love that you have a career and your own things to do. That’s huge for me.”
“Yeah?” I ask.
“Yeah. I would never expect you to drop everything to go to one of my games. Nor would I ever want you to.”
“I think that’s part of what went wrong in my parents’ marriage,” I admit, thinking about it. “CiCi had no identity outside of Craig,” I say, mentioning my dad.
“So what happened?”
“Mom married Dad while he was in law school at the University of Texas,” I explain. “Dad was everything to her. I mean, she gave up school to get a job to put him through law school. Once he finished, she was basically his assistant. Mom organized his life. She kept track of all the finances, scheduled his appointments, she did all the insurance forms, you know, that kind of stuff. When they got married, she ran the household.”
“So being his partner was her sole identity.”
“Yes,” I say. “When Dad’s career took off, Mom did the entertaining. She hosted everything, she was friends with the other wives in the firm, and even built her friendships based on who could help advance Dad further.”
Nate tugs on his baseball hat. “Wow.”
“But if Dad worked late, she got suspicious. She always had to know where he was, what he was doing. She said to me and Amanda she had seen marriages in the firm fall apart due to the other woman, and she was going to be on top of it
.”
“Shit,” Nate says. “Are you serious?”
I swallow hard. “Dad got sick of it. And then he started having affairs, which Mom tried to ignore.”
I study Nate for a moment, as I can’t imagine how painful this topic is for him, even though I’m talking about my family.
“How could she ignore it?” Nate asks, a sense of amazement in his voice.
“Think about it,” I say, “if Mom lost Dad, she lost herself, her purpose.”
“You’re right,” he says. “So what finally led to the divorce?”
“Dad fell in love with one of his mistresses,” I say. “It happened three years ago, when I was finishing up at TCU. He told Mom he hadn’t loved her in years, and he needed to be happy. So he filed for divorce, but let Mom keep the house. Dad also pays her alimony to support her lifestyle.”
“Guilt money?”
“Maybe,” I say, shrugging. “Or payback for everything she gave up to help him when they were young.”
“Kenley?”
I glance over at him. “Yes?”
“How do you feel about all of this?”
I pause for a moment. I rarely talk openly about my feelings on this, only to Amanda and Lexi. But somehow, with Nate, I want to share them.
“It was hard at first,” I say slowly. Nate squeezes my hand in an encouraging way, to let me know he’s here for me. “I felt stupid, being twenty-one years old and in college, but I still wanted my parents to love each other, you know?”
“I can’t even imagine,” Nate says. “My parents have been together for thirty years, and they still hold hands. They truly enjoy each other. My family is everything to me, and I can’t imagine it falling apart. Even now. And I’m twenty-four. So I don’t think you’re stupid at all for wanting that. I’m so sorry that happened to you.”