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Authors: Heidi Medina

Made to Love (21 page)

BOOK: Made to Love
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The thought of leaving here tomorrow brought
my mental plans to somehow smuggle the shirt into my suitcase unnoticed to a
screeching halt.  It was easy to forget reality while secluded here away from
prying us.  It was just the two of us, and inhibitions and insecurities had
fled.  But
our reality
was that he was my boss, well, my boss’s boss,
and I was a freak with serious commitment issues.

I walked into the kitchen, where he was
already pulling chicken salad croissants from a Panera bag.  I took the plate
he handed me and sat cross legged on a chair.  “So.  What does this mean?”

Nathan raised an eyebrow as he sat across
from me.  “What does what mean?” 

I fingered the edge of my croissant.  “This. 
You, me.  .us.”

He leaned back in his chair and I felt his
eyes on me for a moment.  I certainly knew how to ruin a good mood, didn’t I? 
Why couldn’t I just leave it alone and go with the flow?  “Right.  Well, what
do you want it to mean?”

That question I hadn’t expected, and it made
me pause.  What did I want it to mean?  “I don’t know.”   

“Hey,” Nathan said softly.  “Look at me.”  I
stopped playing with my food and raised my eyes to meet his.  “Are you asking
me if this means we’re together?  As in, like dating, or whatever you want to
label it?”

My face flushed at his directness.  It was
exactly what I was asking.   Or trying to, anyway.   Yeah, I wanted to know if
I should now refer to him as my boyfriend (had I referred to anyone as such
before?  Ever? He may be the first.), if we were keeping it casual and seeing
other people (him, not me), or were we exclusive?  This was new to me and there
were so many things to consider.

He tilted his head as he studied me.  “What
are you worried about?”

His ability to read me unnerved me.  I went
back to inspecting my sandwich.  “It’s . . .it’s easy being here with you, ya
know?  Here, away from everyone.  But . . .”

“What happens when we go back?”  He finished
for me.  

I nodded. 

“We’ll need to practice discretion,
obviously.  And I realize being with me places most of the risk on you.  So I
guess what happens next is really up to you.”

Great. 

“And the other?  Are you okay with that?”

He paused.  “The other,” he repeated.  “You
mean the part where I can’t hug you?” 

Yeah.  That. 

“Honestly?  No, I don’t think I’m okay with
that.  But I will accept it, for now.”  He reached across the table and grabbed
my hand.  “Like I said before, whenever you’re ready.”

He wanted to know, and I eventually would
have to tell him.  If this thing between us was going to progress into anything
real, anything substantial, he would have to know.  I knew that, and it scared
the shit out of me. 

I traced the light blonde hairs on his
knuckles with my other hand.  “I don’t want this to end,” I whispered. “When we
go back, I mean.”

“Then it doesn’t,” he whispered back.  “One
day at a time, baby.”

He released my hand and we finished lunch.  I
carried our plates to the sink and rinsed them off, and turned to find Nathan
behind me, his phone in hand as he snapped a picture of me. 

I pulled his shirt tighter around me. 
“What’s that for?”

“A little something to get me through the
afternoon,” he answered.   “Damn, girl, you are sexy as fuck in that shirt.”  He
pocketed his phone then curled a finger at me, beckoning me to come closer. 
“Come here.”

He had that look in his eyes again.  The same
one he’d been sporting when he’d found me on the deck an hour earlier.   My
stomach clenched in anticipation as I moved toward him, the right side of his
shirt slipping off my shoulder.  I knew he had to go back to the office for a
bit, but damn if I didn’t selfishly want him to remain here the rest of the
day, doing nothing more than letting me satisfy what was proving to be my
insatiable need for his body. 

He stared down at me through hooded eyes, and
again I was seized by the ridiculous notion that he could somehow see into the
very depths of my soul.  Hating to think about what he might find there, I
leaned forward and lightly kissed his lips, breaking eye contact.  His hands
came up to gently cup my face as he deepened the kiss, then lifted his head and
looked at me.  There was something new there, in his eyes, something I couldn’t
quite place. 

“What?” I questioned softly.

He didn’t answer for a few seconds more, then
gave one short shake of his head, effectively breaking the odd mood that had seemed
to settle over us.  “Nothing.  Nothing at all.”  He kissed my forehead.   “I’ll
be back in a few hours.  I made dinner reservations at six.”  Kissed my cheek. 
“Or, you know.  We could stay in.”  A kiss on the other cheek.

I closed my eyes and tilted my head back.  “Dinner
sounds good.  Dressy or casual?” I whispered.

Three kisses along my neck.  “Whatever you
wear is fine.  Wear this damn shirt for all I care.  In fact, I insist.”  The
words were muffled as he kissed under my jaw.

I grabbed his head and pulled his mouth to
mine for another quick, hard kiss.  “You’re gonna be late.”

“I’m the boss.  They’ll wait,” he countered
quickly.  He groaned and stepped away, disentangling himself from my arms that
had found their way to his shoulders.  “But you’re right.  I should probably
go.”  He picked up his keys and turned toward the door.  “Tonight.  You, me,
dinner.  And fucking.  Lots of fucking.”

I laughed.  “Promise?”

He raised a single eyebrow.  “Baby, you have
no idea.”  With a wink, he was gone.

 

Nathan

 

I watched her sleep. 

She was curled on her side, facing me, one
hand beneath her cheek and the other on the bed between us.  Long lashes
covered those gorgeous amber colored eyes, and soft breaths moved through her
slightly parted lips.  Her dark hair lay in a tangled mass behind her on the
pillow and I resisted the urge to bury my face in it and inhale her scent.

What was she doing to me?

It had started out so simple.  Get her in my
bed, thereby breaking the mysterious appeal, and move on.  Female companionship
was something I enjoyed, but not something I ever worked too hard at.  I had
already exerted more effort into seducing this woman than I had with anyone
else, and had found myself doing things I often considered a ridiculous waste
of time in the past.  Things like movies, walks in the park, late night phone
calls, mid-day texts just see how her day was going, laying here, wide awake, up
before the sun just to
watch her sleep
.  I didn’t do these things, and
that should have been my first clue. 

I had ignored the signs.

I just had to get her into my bed, and the
appeal would be lost.  That was all it was. 

Except it wasn’t. 

It hadn’t lessened her appeal at all.  If
anything, it had increased it.  Exponentially.  I had sat through three hours
of meetings yesterday morning, listening with half an ear and giving out the
expected responses, when the entire time visions of Reagan had danced through
my brain.  Of how she’d looked at me with those eyes as she stood in my shower,
scared, pleading and yet fiercely determined .  Of the way her long legs had
wrapped around me as I had carried her to the bed, water cascading off our
naked, heated skin.  The sound she’d made when my tongue had plunged its way to
the very core of her.  Teeth that had bit my shoulder, more than once, and
nails that had scraped my back raw.  The tight clenching of her muscles around
me when she came.

All of it. 

I hadn’t been able to get back to her fast
enough.  I’d adjourned the meeting prematurely, making up some lame excuse I
now couldn’t remember, and had raced back to my apartment, oddly panicked that
I’d dreamed the entire thing and she wouldn’t be there. 

But she had been.  She’d been sitting on the
deck, talking on her phone.  And I’d been seized with the overwhelming desire
to be inside her again, to feel that mouth on me, to make her mine. 

By some random act of God, and with the help
of the nine hundred times I’d pulled up her picture on my phone, I’d made it
through the rest of the afternoon meetings.  Dinner had been nice, the
conversation light and kept away from the heavy matters that already cast
shadows over our impending involvement, the food delicious.  All of it merely a
formality.  Something to bide away the time until we were back at the apartment
and the real appetites gnawing at us could be satisfied.

Appetites that had kept us busy for hours.

And now, in the twilight hours of morning,
watching her sleep, I was suddenly attacked with the insane thought that had
skipped through my mind earlier when I’d came home for lunch: 
I could spend
the rest of my life in her arms, and it still not be enough.

I drew in a shaky breath.  This wasn’t
happening.   I mean, I would eventually,
someday
, finally have my fill
of her.  Right? 

Right?

I rubbed my hands over my face, and glanced
at the clock.  I hated to wake her, but we needed to get on the road.  Brooke
was due to arrive back home today, and Reagan was hoping to beat her there and
avoid any questions.  I tucked a lock of hair that had fallen across her cheek
back behind her ear and lightly kissed her cheek. 

“Reagan,” I whispered.

She stirred and mumbled incoherent words I
didn’t understand, but then settled back into the pillow with a sigh.  I kissed
her cheek again and slightly nudged her with my shoulder.   “Baby, come on.  We
gotta get up.”

She peeked at me through her lashes.  “It
can’t possibly be morning,” she grumbled.

“Close enough.”

She rolled over to her back and closed her
eyes.  “Let’s leave tomorrow.”

“As much as I find the idea enticing, we
can’t.  Brooke.  Work.  Facing the real world.  Remember?”  I chased away the
slight uneasiness that flittered through my brain at the thought of leaving the
sanctuary of the last two days, heading back to the city, the office, and the
watchful eyes of my father. . .all of it.  We’d come a long way in this thing
between us the last few days, and the idea that things could be catapulted
backward once we were back home, and she got to thinking too hard—well, it
kinda scared the shit out of me.  Because I certainly hadn’t had my fill of her
yet, no matter how much I tried to reason with myself.  

She pulled the covers tighter around her and
frowned, eyes still closed.  “Do we have to?”

I leaned over and kissed her mouth.  “We
do.”  I yanked the covers off her, and she shrieked and rolled to the side of
the bed. 

“Okay, okay!  I’m going.” 

I watched as she stood, beautifully naked,
slivers of pale, grey light coming through the blinds and crisscrossing her
body in a contrast of light and dark.  And I wondered again if I would ever get
tired of seeing her this way.

She’d found her tank on the floor in front of
my dresser, and was scanning the room through squinty eyes, looking for her
shorts.  I pointed to the far wall, across the room, where the shorts lay in a
crumpled heap.  She shook her head as she picked them up.  “What is it with you
and flinging my clothes?  I’ve been finding them everywhere all weekend.  I
found my panties on the kitchen table last night.  I mean, really?  We haven’t
even,
you know
, in the kitchen.  Let alone on the table.” 

I watched her ramble as she put her shorts on
and stumbled to my bathroom, flipping on the light.  I shrugged.  “You’re
right, we haven’t, and I had no idea you were this eager to do so.  We’ll
rectify that as soon as possible.”

She stuck her tongue out at me over her
shoulder and turned back to her reflection in the mirror.   “I thought you said
we had to get up.”

“Oh, I’m up,” I shot back. 

She turned back around, her eyes taking in
the sight of my obvious arousal, barely covered by the sheet.  She threw the
washcloth she’d been using to wash her face over at me and it hit my bare
chest.  “Dork!”

I said nothing, just smiled as I watched
her.  I knew I couldn’t keep her here, but I wanted to.  I wanted to badly.  I
flung the washcloth aside and sat up.  “Alright.  Let’s get you home.”

Chapter Twenty-one

 

Reagan

 

                I unlocked the door and walked into the
apartment, moving to let Nathan pass as he carried in my luggage.  I’d declined
his offer to help—it was only one bag and I was not an invalid—but he’d
insisted.  And since Brooke wasn’t due home for another hour or two, I’d
relented.  Besides, I wasn’t ready to let him go just yet.

                Until I walked into the kitchen and saw the
suitcases, airline tags securely attached to the handles, standing guard in
front of the fridge.  My heart pounded as I whirled around and stared at Nathan
with wide eyes. 

                Brooke.  She was home.  She was here.  And she
was about to discover me sneaking in with my boss after a weekend away. 

               
NO!NO!NO!

Nathan took in the luggage, looked back at
the obvious panic on my face and opened his mouth to speak.   Whatever he was
going to say was lost as Brooke called to me from down the hall. 

“Reagan, is that you?”  Footsteps followed
the words, and I frantically pointed toward the door, motioning for Nathan to
hurry and exit through it.  But of course, that was ridiculous.  The door was
too far away and Brooke was already here.

“I’ve been wondering—“  Her voice cut off as
she caught the sight of Nathan standing silently behind me.  None of us spoke
for several beats and as cliché as it sounded, I desperately wished for the
floor to open wide and swallow me whole.  How in the world was I going to
explain this?

Think, Reagan.  Think!!

Brooke’s eyes narrowed and she shifted her
weight to one foot and crossed her arms over her chest.  She’d obviously been
home a while if the overly large My Little Kitty t-shirt she was wearing was
any indication.  Her eyes also looked puffy, but I had no time to dwell.  
“Seriously?” 

This was directed at me, and in a tone I
could not decipher or understand.  The sudden anger surrounding her was
palpable and I opened my mouth and then closed it, completely unsure how to
proceed.  This was the very thing I had hoped to avoid.  I mean, I had planned
to eventually tell Brooke about me and Nathan.  If we lasted for any real
length of time I would have to—she was my roommate.  But I hadn’t really
thought much past that, and certainly wasn’t prepared to divulge this information
now. 

Nathan cleared his throat.  “Hello, Brooke.” 
He set my bag on the floor beside him and turned to me.  “Thank you, Miss
Andrews, for all of your hard work this weekend.  It did not go unnoticed.  We
will go over the details tomorrow.”  His eyes flickered as he looked at me, but
saying no more, he dipped his head in Brooke’s direction and with a wave, was
gone. 

I knew it was stupid, because I knew he was
trying to keep up a pretense for my benefit, but I hated the distant
indifference that had been in his voice when he’d made his exit.  The easy way
he had all but dismissed me as if I was again nothing more than one of his
employees. 

Like I said, stupid.

I turned back to Brooke, who continued to
stand there, anger radiating from her in waves.  She raised her eyebrow at me
in question.  “What is Nathan Preston doing bringing you home on a Sunday,
carrying your bag over his shoulder?”

Let’s just jump right in, shall we?

 

I took a deep breath, determined to relay as
little as possible.  I picked up my bag and slung it up on the counter.  “We
had some last minute changes to the Johnson & Johnson project I am working
on that we needed to hash out.  Mr. Preston had to be in Boston, so we arranged
a meeting with them from there.”  It was a lie, flimsy at best.  Even I
wouldn’t have believed it.  I wondered why I was even trying at this point when
I had so obviously been found out, but I remained stubborn.

Brooke didn’t believe it either.   “They
invented teleconferences for that sort of thing, you know.”  She tilted her
head as she stared me down.  “I hope you don’t think I am naïve enough to
believe that bullshit.”

I bristled at her tone.  “What is this about,
Brooke?”

“What is this about?  It’s about you coming
home with your boss after what appears to be a weekend away together.”

I slung my bag over my shoulder and moved
past her down the hall.  “But, why?  What does that even have to do with you,
and why are you so angry?”  I felt a little anger of my own rising to the
surface.  In the face of unwanted questions, I reverted to what I knew:  dodge
and deflect.

And really.  What
did
it have to do
with her? 

She followed me.  “Are you sleeping with
him?”

Oh. My. God.

I tossed the bag on my bed and turned around,
hands on my hips.  “Really, Brooke?”

“Yes or no?”

I wanted to lie.  I wanted to tell her no. 
And I wanted to tell her to take her nosy ass and get the hell out of my room. 
But what would be the point?  We both knew the answer to her question and
denial at this point would just be insulting.  I threw up my hands, and
shrugged.  “What do you want me to say?”

Some of her anger seemed to dissipate as our
eyes met from across the room.  She shook her head.  “Forget it, okay?  You
don’t understand.”  She stared at the floor for a moment, and then lifted her
eyes back to mine.  “Just. . .just be careful, okay?”  She turned and left the
room.

“Be careful?  What does that even mean?”  I
hollered after her, but her bedroom door clicked shut without a response.  I
sat on the edge of my bed, bewildered, wondering what had just gone down.  Of
course, I had expected a little resistance from Brooke when I eventually told
her about me and Nathan, but her reaction went way beyond a ‘little
resistance’.  She was right, I didn’t understand.  Part of me wanted to bang on
her door and demand an explanation, but the bigger part had no desire to get
into it right now.   I was startled by the vibration of my phone, signaling an
incoming text.

 

NATHAN:   Come downstairs.  NOW
.

 

I typed back furiously. 

 

Ur still here?  Not sure this is a good
time.  Brooke is pissed!

NATHAN:  I’m here.  I know she is.

NATHAN:  Please.  Not leaving till I see
you.

 

I warred between wanting to see Nathan, and
not wanting to further press my luck.  Brooke had been good to me, and I didn’t
want to mess that up, her current anger notwithstanding.  She was kinda the
only friend I had, not counting Nathan.  And yes, I was counting him.  He was
no longer
jus
t my friend, but that was beside the point.  My phone
vibrated again.

 

NATHAN:  On my way up.

 

I raced to the door, my fingers fumbling over
the keys as I frantically typed.

 

NO!  I’m coming right now.

 

I saw him as soon as I was outside.  He was
standing outside his SUV, leaning against the passenger door.  He straightened
and walked over to me, stopping just short of smashing into me.  “I thought you
said she wasn’t due home until one.”

“I don’t know.  That’s what she said.”  I
wanted to be back in Boston, where Nathan and I were alone, together, and none
of this mattered.  “What if she says something?  She is really pissed, Nathan.”

Nathan raised his hands to clasp around my
upper arms.  I stiffened and stepped back, and his arms fell to his sides.  He
ran his hands through his hair and sighed.  “Right.  Sorry.”  He moved closer
and took my hand.  “I don’t think she will, but if she does, we’ll deal with
it, okay?  Being the boss’s son does have its occasional perk.”

“What will happen?  Could I be fired?”

He squeezed my hand and his tone was firm. 
“No.  Absolutely not.   What real proof does she have anyway?  So she saw me
bringing you home.  It could mean any number of things.  It will be her word
against ours.”

I didn’t like the sound of that.  I didn’t
want to get into a ‘he said-she said’ war with Brooke.  Besides, I had already
pretty much admitted to sleeping with him anyway, so wasn’t that basically an
admission of guilt on my part?  I couldn’t believe we were even having this
conversation.  

“I don’t even know why she’s so mad.  She was
practically singing your praises just a few weeks ago.”

“Singing my praises?  Do tell,” Nathan joked,
and brushed a lock of hair back from my face.  He waited until I met his gaze
and then was back to all business.  “Stop.  Let’s not jump to conclusions. 
Like I said, I doubt Brooke is going to say a word.  I just wanted to see you
and make sure you were okay.  That we were okay.”

I watched as traffic whizzed by and people
went about their day, and then looked back at him.  “Yeah, I am.  We are.” 

He squeezed my hand again, his relief evident. 
“Good.  Now, go back inside before she comes down here looking for you and
finds me instead.”  He brought my hand up to his lips and kissed it.  I watched
his mouth and felt the familiar tightening in my stomach.  He smiled,
recognizing the look in my eyes.  “Later,” he promised.  “Now, go.  I will see
you tomorrow, okay?”

I went back up to the apartment, Brooke
nowhere in sight.  I spied her door, still firmly shut against the outside
world, seeming to exude as much anger as the person behind it.  I tapped lightly
on the door, not really wanting to have this confrontation now, but figuring I
should do what I could to make it right.  This was her apartment after all. 
She didn’t answer, and silence loomed as I stood in the hall.  Well, I tried.

I headed back to my room and unpacked, then
flopped down on the bed.  It was in the middle of the afternoon, and I had
nothing to do.  I was bored.

And I missed Nathan.  Terribly.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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