Chapter Seven
As Nakos pulled his truck up to the main house, Bones came barreling around the corner and stopped to sit on his haunches. Though the sheepdog’s tongue lolled, his postured deflated as if disappointed in the visitors.
Amy released her seatbelt from the passenger side. “Looks like someone misses Olivia.”
Nakos grunted. “Or Nate. The dog follows him everywhere.”
They climbed out and warm, humid air tinged with the scent of pine and soil bathed her face. Hot sun beat down and created the perfect lighting for some shots she had in mind.
Nakos bent to rub the dog’s black and white fur. “Just a honeymoon, boy. They’ll be back before you know it.” He straightened and glanced around. “Do me a favor. Check on Mae before you wander off to take pictures?”
She’d planned on it anyway. “Sure.”
Leaving Nakos to care for the horses, Amy made her way to the mudroom and inside the spacious kitchen. Huge and airy, it held stainless steel appliances, granite countertops, and white distressed cabinets. Aunt Mae was reading at the small table, a cup of tea beside her.
She glanced up and set her warm blue eyes on Amy, smoothing her chin-length white strands. “Hi, sweetheart. Do you want some lunch?”
Poor woman was probably going nuts not having to cook since the men were off duty. “Have you eaten?”
“I was just about to make a sandwich.” She rose, but Amy waved her back into place.
“I’ll do it.” She went to the fridge to retrieve items and got to work at the island. “How are you faring up here by yourself?” Amy didn’t like the idea of her alone in this big ole house, but Mae could handle herself.
“Oh, fine.” Aunt Mae smiled. “How is your new living situation?” She waggled her brows as if expecting a raunchy recant.
Amy laughed, shaking her head. “You should’ve been a romance novelist or something. You could turn anything into a sordid tale.” She slathered mayo on wheat bread, then added turkey. “I’m trying to stay out of his way, but it’s hard.” She topped the sandwiches with lettuce and tomato, set one aside for Nakos, and brought the other two to the table.
“Why would you need to stay out of Nakos’s way?”
With a shrug, she took a seat. “His house. I’m an invasion.”
“That’s ridiculous.” Aunt Mae bit into her sandwich, studying Amy. “He wouldn’t have offered if he didn’t want you around.”
She totally disagreed. White knight complex. He’d always had one. She kept silent, though, while she chewed.
Their conversation from this morning ping-ponged in her head. As did the image of him in nothing but a pair of boxer-briefs. All that tan olive skin. Ridges of abs. Hard pecs. Strong, muscular thighs. Her imagination hadn’t done him justice. Tall, lean, and corded with sinew, Nakos was a prime specimen. He’d obviously fallen into habit and forgotten she was there. She’d tried to joke about the encounter, but clearly he’d been disgusted by her mere teasing, to the point he hadn’t glanced at her since.
“Did he cook you a big breakfast?” Aunt Mae nodded at Amy’s plate. “You only made yourself a half, not that you’ve even finished that much.”
“Oh, no. I’m not hungry, I guess.” Not a total lie. Her appetite had been for crap lately. Which she supposed was helping her count calories.
“You’re getting thin, sweetheart.”
“I’m trying to drop a couple pounds.” She’d only managed ten and was going for twenty more.
“All right. Just so long as you understand there’s nothing wrong with the way you are.”
Hardly. Due to the number of times Chris had called her “fat ass” the past few years, Amy could’ve resembled a toothpick and she still would’ve heard her ex’s insults. Believed them. Every single one. To think, he’d once liked her curves. Or pretended he had. Apparently, that hadn’t been the case. And it wasn’t as if other men had looked her way since the divorce, proving him right.
Nakos’s reactions shoved to mind, cementing Chris’s claim. Not just how he’d closed his eyes and gone pale in the kitchen as if nauseated by the thought of her in her underwear, but his rigid frame at her compliments, too. Both at the wedding and this morning. From now on, she’d just shut the hell up and pretend he didn’t make her body come alive.
Ache. Want. Burn.
God, would she never learn?
Because Aunt Mae was still watching her, Amy forced herself to finish the turkey and stood to collect their empty plates. “Do you need anything while I’m here?” She wrapped the sandwich for Nakos in cellophane to take with her and moved to the door.
“Yes. I need you to enjoy your weekend off. It’s Saturday. Go do something fun.” Again with the eyebrow waggle. “Like a sweaty, naked activity with a certain tall, quiet cowboy.”
She almost laughed. “I’m not the one he’s in love with, Aunt Mae. Remember?”
Amy wasn’t even the woman guys fell in like with, never mind lust or love. She’d fallen for the lie once before from Chris. Look where stupid, fruitless hope had gotten her. In debt up to her eyeballs, a residual pang in her ribs from a beating, not a shred of self-esteem left, and forced to rely on her friends or live on the street. Plus, her parents had disowned her, not that they hadn’t been slowly doing that since birth.
“He’s not in love with Olivia.” Aunt Mae rose and met Amy in the doorway. “He might think he is, or was, but he’s mistaken.”
The woman was so very wrong on that account. Olivia stopped traffic. Always had. Auburn hair, shocking blue eyes, regally thin body. Plus, she was the sweetest person with a heck of a funny bone. And she’d had Nakos around her finger forever. Amy would’ve been jealous if she didn’t love her best friend to the moon and back.
Aunt Mae cupped Amy’s cheeks. “Go for it, sweetheart. I know you want to.”
She stilled, staring into knowing eyes while her sinuses burned. Her whole life, the only kindness she could recall had been a product of this house. A large part of that had been from this woman. But that didn’t make Aunt Mae right, just intuitive.
“Doesn’t matter what I want. He doesn’t and never will.” She hugged Mae because the woman meant well. Relishing the brief embrace since Amy so rarely got it elsewhere, she closed her eyes to savor before pulling away. God, she missed being touched. “Besides, I’m not...” Unable to finish the thought, she shook her head.
“Not what?”
Good enough, she almost said. That was the brutal truth. Even if Chris hadn’t come into her life and broken the last of her will, she was still tarnished. Dirty. Had been since she was twelve years old. Amy had no right even being in the presence of a man like Nakos. His beautiful heart and gorgeous body belonged with a woman way more deserving than Amy could ever try to emulate.
She swallowed past the pain clamping her throat. “I’m not looking for a relationship.” At least there was honesty in that answer, too. “I’ll check on you tomorrow.”
The temperature and humidity had risen to nearly unbearable when she stepped out. Making her way across the yard, she headed for the open carriage doors on the second barn. Nakos had put all the horses out to pasture on the rear side. A wheelbarrow next to him, he used a pitchfork to arrange hay in the farthest stall. He’d obviously already cleaned them and was almost finished.
Hail Mary, but he’d taken off his shirt. Sweat gleaned on his dark skin as muscles rippled and corded tendons strained. His jeans were hung low on his narrow hips and his black Stetson shadowed most of his face. He moved with fluid grace, the perfect symmetry of sinew and bone at work.
She wanted her camera so badly her fingers itched, but she’d left it in the truck.
Bones noticed her first and trotted over. She petted his soft ears and glanced at Nakos. “I brought you a sandwich.”
Setting the pitchfork aside, he strode over looking like a bronze god. “You should eat that. I can get something at home.” He wiped his face with a bandana and shoved it in his back pocket.
“I ate with Aunt Mae.”
He eyed her as if he didn’t believe her, but took the sandwich. “You sure?”
“Yep. I’m going to grab my camera and wander around. Do you want any help in here first?”
Shaking his head, he unwrapped the cellophane. “If you give me a minute, I can go with you. The horses need to walk around. I’ll put ‘em away before we leave.”
Nodding, she pivoted for the driveway. “Be right back.”
She grabbed her bag from the truck, took the camera out, and slung the strap over her shoulder. When she turned, Nakos was leaning against the doorway of the barn as if holding the structure up himself. Legs crossed, Bones at his feet, he bowed his head.
On instinct, she brought the camera to her face and zoomed to get a better shot from a distance. The contrast of his blue jeans, bright green grass, and red from the barn were an eyegasm, even if the striking man weren’t shirtless and lickable. The lazy pose of him, expression hidden by his hat, and the dog by his feet, were breathtakingly captivating. Told a story.
Excitement zinged in her bloodstream and her breasts ached watching him. She got two clean shots before Nakos crouched and rubbed the dog’s flank. Perfection. Dark shadows from inside the barn to his left and sunlight bathing him from the right. She snapped several clicks and sighed in utter contentment.
God, she missed this. Getting lost in a frame, the camera in her hands, the blank slate it created in her mind.
She made her way back to him and, without a word, he followed her across the pasture. Not sure where she was headed, she just kept her eyes open until something jumped out at her. Before long, they wound up on the hill by the tire swing. Bones followed and stretched out in a shady patch.
Nakos put his tee back on—a crying shame—and plopped his butt on the grass by the base of the tree. He rested his forearms on his bent knees and studied her as she laid on her back. Though he said nothing, she was ever aware of his presence. She could feel his gaze on her, heavy and potent, and wondered what his fascination was with her all of a sudden.
She glanced heavenward at the sunlight through the branches, highlighting the leaves, and brought the camera up again. Click, click. “What are you thinking about?”
Something was off with him. The shot, though? Awesome. Color and light blended together through the canopy. Summer days at their best.
When she realized he hadn’t responded, she rolled on her side to face him. Setting the camera down, she propped her head in her hand. Mere inches separated them as he looked down at her. After a moment, he sighed and glanced away, his expression revealing nothing.
“If you don’t tell me what’s on your mind, I’ll start my own dialogue. I can choose some very interesting topics on your behalf.” She brushed a wayward strand of hair from her cheek and lowered her tone to mimic his voice. “Amy, I’m thinking of dyeing my hair pink and getting a butterfly tattoo. What do you think?” She brought her voice higher. “Well, Nakos, where would you get this tattoo? Somewhere forbidden?”
His gaze cut to hers, dark and irritated, even though there was the slightest quirk of his lips as if he were amused. “I’d shave my head before dyeing it pink.”
“Travesty,” she gasped. “Don’t you ever chop off that hair. It’s beautiful.” Shoulder-length raven strands, which he usually had in a low ponytail, and looked as soft as his heart.
And there was the intense stare again, boring through her. “Beautiful?”
“You want a more manly word? There isn’t one. That thick mane of yours is nothing short of beautiful.” Darn. She was supposed to be shutting up in regards to the compliments. He hadn’t reacted well to them before. Or, more precisely, to her attention.
Eyes narrowed, he reached out and touched her hair resting on the grass, his gaze following the movement. A barely there caress with his fingertips like he was curious about the texture but scared for the result. Shocked, she tried to keep still.
His jaw clenched, and he lifted a few strands, rubbing the ends between his thumb and index finger. “Can I ask you a question?”
She felt the touch through her whole system as if her hair had mysteriously grown nerve endings. “You can ask me anything.”
His long lashes fluttered as he met her gaze. Seductive, that. “Have you...thought about dating again? Are you ready to, I mean?”
The breath seeped from her lungs. Slowly, she sat up and crossed her legs, causing him to let go of her hair and drop his hand. “Is this a ploy to remarry me off and get me out of your house?”
Not so much as a blink. He held her gaze, trapping her, and she couldn’t figure out what was going on. His expression was locked down tight, and he wasn’t caving to offer a clue.
“I guess so,” she said slowly, answering his initial question. “I’m not hung up on Chris or anything. But there’s not exactly a line of guys waiting to step up to the plate.”
“Do you have someone in mind?”
Why couldn’t she breathe? “I wouldn’t say no if Charlie Hunnam asked me to dinner.”
“Who?”
“The actor from Sons of Anarchy.” She shrugged when he merely stared. “Blond hottie with an accent and—”
“I’m being serious right now and you’re cracking jokes?”
She didn’t like this entire conversation. Her Spidey sense was tingling, telling her to glue her mouth shut or bad things would happen. “I was being serious. If you saw him, you’d understand.”
Growling, he dragged his hat off his head, tossed it next to her camera, and pressed his palms to his eyes. Long, long seconds ticked by. Cicadas buzzed and a whippoorwill cooed.
Finally, without looking at her, he mumbled, “Why can’t you answer one question without turning it into a root canal?”
Growing irritated herself—and panicky—she shot to her feet, ready to bolt the second he backed her into a proverbial corner. And he would. The signs were all there. “Since when do you give a rat’s ass about my sex life?”
He pulled his head away from his hands with such deliberation a chill shot up her spine. The glare he whipped her rendered her immobile. But when he lumbered to his feet, it numbed her to the bone.
“Just what in the hell do you mean by that?” His low, carefully controlled tone sliced like a blade.
Dang it. She should’ve just lied and said no. No, she wasn’t ready to date again, and no, she didn’t have anyone in mind. But she had a hard time not being truthful with him and a diversion had seemed the best course. Now what?
“Not once have you shown any interest, Nakos. Not who I spend time with, date, take to bed, or marry.”
“Oh hell no, you didn’t go there.” Nostrils flaring, he vibrated where he stood. Muscles rippled and tendons strained—a panther ready to strike prey. “I—”
“Don’t deny it.” Yes. Anger was so much better than vulnerability. She let it boil in her bloodstream. “Name one instance, in our entire friendship, where you gave an opinion. You stood right in front of me on the dance floor last night and told me I’d hurt you by not having you at my wedding. But you didn’t speak up about your contempt for Chris before or after we got married.” Though it had been obvious, that was beside the point. “So explain to me how your sudden interest now isn’t supposed to confuse me.”
The color drained from his face, and he reeled. “Ames...” He swiped his brow and looked away. Distress etched across his features, in his posture. “I didn’t...” He sighed. “You’re right. It wasn’t my place to say anything and I didn’t. That doesn’t mean...” He closed his eyes, hung his head. “Doesn’t mean I didn’t care.”
Deflating, she let out the breath she’d been holding. “I know you care. It’s this conversation I don’t get.”
He gazed at the horizon, but his glazed expression told her he wasn’t seeing anything but the inside of his own head. Contemplation knitted his brows. “You’ve been different.” His voice was so quiet she had to strain to hear him. He looked at her, concern and something else she couldn’t place in the dark depths. “You’ve not been the same since the day he hurt you. Neither have I. Something got...shifted between us.”
He strode closer and stopped mere inches from her, a pleading in his eyes. “Are you attracted to me?”
On a dime, her throat closed. Most likely, it was a defensive response because even her body knew answering was stupid.
His eyes darted back and forth between hers. Searching. Seeking. Imploring. “Out of nowhere, you started saying things to me you never have before and...” He grabbed the back of his neck. “I don’t know what to think.”
Ah. There was the root of the issue. Her comments about his body and light flirtation had disrupted his carefully construed view of their dynamic. He wanted a handle on her motives so he could deal with it. So he could make it end.
Rejection tore at her insides, regardless of how many instances she’d been dismissed in her life. Strange how it still hurt. Every. Time. “I’ll stop doing it. I’m sorry. You obviously hate the attention from me.”
“I didn’t say that. Don’t put words in my mouth.”
“You didn’t have to. Your repulsion and uncomfortableness are apparent.” She straightened. “Don’t look at me like that. You know you were thinking it.”
“I was?” He shook his head like he was baffled, then he blinked in clarity. “Knock it off. You’re doing the Amy juju again and trying to derail me.” He stepped flush against her and dipped to look in her eyes. “I want an answer and I want the truth. Are you attracted to me?”
“I already promised to stop—”
“Are you attracted to me?”
“Nakos, drop it. This is ridiculous. It doesn’t matter what I feel. You don’t have to worry about your delicate sensibilities and—”
“Quit avoiding.” He grabbed her shoulders. “Are. You. Attracted. To. Me?”
She clamped her mouth shut. Hard. How, she hadn’t a clue. But as her respirations flew into the triple digits and she trembled from the urge to escape one more epic pain she’d never recover from, he got his answer without her speaking a syllable.
A barely perceptible shake of his head, and he’d read her loud and clear. One by one, his fingers retracted from her shoulders and he stepped back. Arms splayed at his sides in shocked surrender, he stared at her. Lost. Bewildered. Dazed.
Teutonic plates shifted and the earth rotated the sun in the amount of time he attempted to get a grip. He tore his eyes away, gaze darting to the ground like he couldn’t believe he was still standing. It would’ve broken her had she not known this would’ve been his response all along. Once, just once, could fate be on her side? Luck? Something, at least?
If she didn’t play this moment off as nothing, didn’t show him it was no big deal, she was going to lose him. She knew it as adamantly as she understood she’d never get her feelings reciprocated.
And because she was a total idiot, she said the first thing that came to mind. “Welcome to season three of my life. The writers are instilling outrageous antics just to keep it interesting.” Please, God, keep him in the script. “A demon will be riding a unicorn next episode if you want to tune in.”
His gaze whipped to hers with a what-the-hell. Once he appeared to digest her statement, his hands fisted and he held them to his forehead in a display of utter helplessness. He closed his eyes. Breathed heavily. Groaned.
“Nakos, I—”
One second he was a few feet away and the next he was pressed against her. He cupped the sides of her head with both hands, his jaw set in determination. With the distance evaporated, they shared air. Brushed noses. Blasted heat.
“What are you doing?” she whispered, heart pounding. Because his gaze was darting between her mouth and her eyes like he might...
“Getting you to shut up so I can think.”
Oh. “Is it working?”
“No.” His throat formed a swallow. “I’m trying hard to get myself together to do the right thing, but I have no idea what that is at the moment.”
Heat wove through her bloodstream and her head swam like she’d slammed ten shots of whiskey in the same amount of time. She was probably dreaming anyway. In reality, Nakos wouldn’t be holding her, emanating sexual waves of frustration, and giving off want-to-kiss-her vibes.
Carefully, to not spook the beast, she set her hands on his waist. “If it makes things any clearer for you, about every other day I feel like I’ve got my life under control and headed in the right direction. Then, I pat myself on the back and say, that was a really great two minute effort.”
He muttered something in his native tongue and...well, he did shut her up, after all.
With his lips.