Chapter Thirty-Seven
The unexpected day continued as I found myself at Nick’s home. Nick had to get Hensley home, and neither of us was ready to say goodbye. Nick and Skye convinced me to come home with them to have dinner. I didn’t realize that meant an almost two-hour drive one way in the worst traffic I had ever been in. Atlanta had nothing on LA. It was almost like being in the middle of that crash simulation, minus the kissing.
The kissing. I should be embarrassed how much kissing happened on that trolley with poor Joe as a witness. But it had been a long time, and I’d never been kissed like that before. Nick was a professional. Come to think of it, maybe he had been taught to kiss, but it went well beyond technique. There was an emotional aspect I’d never experienced before. His uninhibited nature flowed through me, allowing me to feel a comfort and connection that had never been present with anyone else.
I looked around one of his guest bathrooms, which had more windows than any bathroom I’d ever been in. His house seemed to be made more of glass than anything, but I couldn’t blame him—the views of the coast from up here were breathtaking. And the light that filtered in made his gorgeous home that much more beautiful.
I stared in the oval mirror above the sink that was a piece of artwork itself. It was carved wood. I’d never seen such a thing, but I didn’t have a lot of chances to tour multi-million-dollar homes or date celebrities.
We were dating, right? I asked my tanned, somewhat sunburned reflection. My nose and cheeks were a little pinker than brown. I fixed my windblown hair while I contemplated what had happened today, this summer. This all felt different, not an adrenaline, hormone-induced response. My head pointed to the relationship Nick had with Skye and how he helped my parents. How much care he had taken with my feelings and desires not to be in his spotlight. And he listened. He may have some rough edges and an ego, but he wasn’t a narcissist, of that I was sure. I leaned in and studied my own blue eyes. He wasn’t Douglas. He wasn’t putting on an act. And why would he? He could have any woman in the world.
My eyes, heart, and mind all seemed to agree.
I took a deep breath and finished freshening up.
Now, what was I going to do about my job?
I found my way back to Nick’s gourmet kitchen, which belonged on the Food Network. It was so pretty, decked out with state-of-the-art appliances and stunning white cabinets that played against the dark wood floors. It smelled divine too. Nick was already working on dinner and sautéing peppers while cutting fruit. What was it about a man in the kitchen that made him so attractive?
“Can I help with anything?” I leaned against the U-shaped island near him.
He looked up from his cutting board. “No, but try this.” He picked up a small slice of yellow fruit.
“What’s this?”
“A mango nectarine.” He placed the piece in my mouth and added a kiss before I could start chewing.
Oh. Wow. Mmm. Sweet flavor explosion. That was only the kiss. I savored and swallowed the nectarine, which was sweet and yummy too. I grinned at Nick, thinking about how surreal this all was, but knowing reality needed to have its place.
“Nick, we need to talk about my job and what all this means.”
“Are you already wanting the define-the-relationship conversation?” he teased.
“No.”
He set the knife down, took me up in his arms, and pressed me against the island. “I want to have it.” He was nothing but serious. “Kate, I want you in my life long-term.”
That was a breathtaking statement, and I felt it in every fiber of my being. I wanted that too, but . . . “You’re using a dating service. The one I work for. The one that made me agree not to date you.”
“Did you sign something that said you wouldn’t date clients?” he asked matter-of-factly.
I thought for a moment. “Well, no, it’s an unwritten rule.”
“Didn’t Kenadie marry a client?”
“Yes, but . . .”
He pressed his lips to my mouth before whispering against them, “We have no issues.”
I leaned my head back. “I have an issue with you using a dating service if we’re dating.”
He groaned. “Kate, it’s not what you think.”
“Enlighten me.”
“I can’t right now. Unlike you, I have signed an agreement with Kenadie.” Irritation surrounded Kenadie’s name.
I let out a big breath, not sure what to make of any of what he did and didn’t say.
“You are the only woman I want in my life. Trust me . . . please.”
“That’s difficult for me.”
He sweetly kissed my forehead and lingered. “I know.”
“What do we do?”
“We don’t worry about it, because it’s all going to work out. And I don’t want to waste another second of our time together this weekend talking about things that don’t matter.”
“I didn’t know we were spending the weekend together.” I smirked up at him.
“Now you do. I’m going to play tour guide.”
His seductive tone sent a shiver through me. “Is that so?”
He nuzzled my neck. “We are going to start right here.” He lingered, driving me mad, until he kissed his way up my neck to my lips. “Next stop is here.” His warm lips teased and pulled on mine until they gently brushed them a few times.
I wrapped my arms around his neck, giving him permission to continue his tour.
He picked me up and placed me on the counter. I drew him as close as I could by wrapping my legs around him. His lips came crashing into mine before he deepened the kiss and explored every available space in my mouth. The torrid love letter between us was finally being written, and I knew I wanted to reread it as often as possible. His hands once again undid my hair and it fell around us.
“Is something burning in here?” Skye yelled.
Yes, my body. Wait. Something was burning. There was smoke and an acrid smell. How did I miss that?
Nick and I broke apart. While I jumped off the counter, embarrassed to be caught passionately kissing Skye’s dad, Nick swore and quickly took the pan of burnt peppers off the stove.
Skye stood there, towel-drying her hair after her shower, with a mix of amusement and I’m-grossed-out playing on her face.
I tucked what I was sure was messy hair behind my ear.
“I’m happy you’re together, but can you save the PDA for when I’m not around?” Skye didn’t give us a chance to answer—she walked right back out.
A look passed between Nick and me that said the tour would continue later.
As much as I enjoyed the private tour Nick had given me, I loved it even more when I found myself between Nick and Skye on the most comfortable, stylish leather couch of all time watching one of Skye’s favorite movies, Pitch Perfect, on what had to be the biggest personal screen you could own. Who needed a movie theater?
Plus, the food here was way better. Nick made the most amazing braised chicken with peppers. He didn’t burn them the second time around. I had no idea he was such a good cook. I thought he’d have a personal chef on staff. He mentioned he used to when On the Edge was at its height.
I was snuggled against Nick while Skye got comfy by resting her head in my lap and prostrating herself on the couch with her feet propped up. I played with her hair while she talked over the movie.
“So, Hensley wants me to go to San Diego tomorrow with her parents. Is that okay?”
Nick mulled it over. “What are they doing there and how long would you be gone?”
“They’re going to Coronado Island, you know, to do the tourist thing. We’ll be gone all day. Please, Daddy, I’ve hardly seen Hensley all summer. And you trust her parents.” She had the cute pouty-lip thing down.
“But Kate’s in town,” he countered.
Skye smiled up at me but spoke to her dad. “Yeah, I know, but don’t you want some alone time? And we can all have dinner tomorrow night when I get back. We can take Kate to The Loft. You’ll love it,” she addressed me specifically.
Nick did the total dad thing and acted like he was debating all while I knew, and I was sure Skye knew too, that he was going to say yes.
“I suppose,” he relented. “But I’m making reservations for seven, so make sure you’ll be back in time for that.”
“Thank you, Daddy.” She focused back on her movie and sang along with it.
Nick kissed the side of my head. “Looks like it will only be you and me tomorrow. Can you handle that?”
I was going to try my very best to. “I think so.”
“We’ve made progress.”