Page 63 of Trials of a One Night Stand
I nudge him with my foot. “Is s-e-x all you think about?”
“Hey, I never mentioned s-e-x. But you still have to get home. Unless you plan to stay here.”
“I’m not staying here, but you were still talking about s-e-x.” I love how relaxed I feel around Nate. He’s handsome, funny, and sweet. “Just admit it.”
“You know”—Nate places his arm around me—“you’re always beautiful, but tonight, you look especially pretty.”
Now, he’s just playing with me. “My makeup has worn off, and I’m in my workout clothes.”
He smooths my hair with his hands. “It looks good on you. You’re radiant.”
I eye him warily, not sure if he’s trying to make a move or what. “Thanks, but I doubt I look good.”
He exhales slowly and then smiles softly. “Believe me, you look beautiful, Jayne.”
God, this man will be the death of me. I have no clue how to deal with him, but I know one thing. I’m getting dangerously close to suggesting something I shouldn’t because I’m not ready to say good night to him.
I stare up at him and hope I won’t sound like a fool with a crush. “Do you want to come back to Roddy and Mano’s with me?”
Forty minutes later, I grab two glasses from Roddy and Mano’s kitchen cabinet, noting the quality of the glassware like everything else at the upscale home. Nate’s sitting in the living room, waiting for me. I needed a minute after we returned from Lottie’s apartment. Okay, maybe I need more time than that. My thoughts are spinning so much I’m almost dizzy.
A trip to the bathroom doesn’t help, so now I’m moving slowly, getting myself something to drink. What’s the reason I feel so discombobulated?
Nate.
He shocked the hell out of me tonight. I have no doubt he met me, expecting to have hot sex, not to play with a dog or spoil me with a delicious dinner. I could tell by the desire in his eyes and the sexy curve of his lips what he wanted from me. That’s my fault, but I wanted to see him and giving him a puzzle to solve seemed the best way to get what I wanted. Granted, he didn’t seem to mind and looked like he had fun, even though Dodge made Nate toss toys repeatedly.
I’d seen how good Nate was with his nieces and Buttercup, which made me wonder if he was serious about being a part of our baby’s life. His kindness toward Dodge is another point in Nate’s favor. A man who likes kids and animals is a good thing, right?
And maybe that’s why I’m not ready to say good night to him. Who am I kidding? I want him, and that has nothing to do with dinner, or Dodge. Or the baby. We’ve been like this since the night we met.
I yawn, a big yawn that could swallow a universe if I were a black hole. The long day must be catching up with me.
My feet hurt, and my muscles are sore. Let’s not even mention how my brain is barely functioning after trying to represent my touchy-feely client, who thinks resting his thigh against mine and touching my arm multiple times is appropriate courtroom behavior. I thought I’d nipped that in the bud in the courtroom in Portland, but Lucas started up again today. He wasn’t even subtle, which led to Oliver sitting between us after the first break. I’m all for keeping the client happy but within reason. I hold strict boundaries with clients.
But that makes me wonder why I’m not doing the same with the opposition.
Let’s face it, I’m breaking every rule, and I’m not a rule breaker. I’ve always colored inside the lines and never took shortcuts, even when allowed.
Yet Nate sits in the next room, and I want him upstairs in my bedroom—in my bed. That’s the definition of insanity. I’m risking my career each time we get together.
I want to believe we’ve taken every precaution. The bodyguards signed NDAs, but what if Chloe or Ashton slip up somehow? The other neighbors think I’m a paid house sitter. The only time Nate and I are out in public together is at the courthouse, where we’re expected to be. Jason hasn’t mentioned Nate since the trial began, nor has Oliver brought him up.
I yawn again, hoping a glass of water will give me the same amount of pep as an espresso. Nate might want something else. “Would you rather have a beer or soda, Nate? I saw some in the fridge.”
“No, thanks. Water is fine,” he calls from the living room. Maybe he’s just not in the mood for a drink when he’d rather taste something else—me. A woman can hope. I yawn once more.
“I’ll be there in a few minutes.” I fill his glass using the cold water from the refrigerator door dispenser.
“Take your time, beautiful.”
Heat pools on my face. God, a simple compliment from him makes me swoon. I have it bad, and that’s not good. I should’ve been smarter than I was earlier at Lottie and Trace’s apartment, but it’s hard when I’m around Nate.
That’ll bite you in the butt, lil’ miss smarty pants.
I can hear my granny’s voice in my head. At the time, she was talking about a hornet nest I’d found in her backyard, but what she said has been applicable to many situations, especially ones involving attractive men like Steffi’s high school boyfriend and Colton. Now, it looks like Nate will be next.
What the hell is wrong with me? Maybe I do need a bite or a kick in the ass.
