Page 145 of The Clover Chapel (Jamison Valley 2)
“I’m nervous,” I said. “I’m a different person around him. He makes me feel weaker. Less confident. What if you don’t like that version of me?”
“I love all versions of you. And you don’t have to be strong when he’s around. That’s what I’m here for.”
“Stop cleaning,” Nick ordered.
“I just want to dust above the fireplace.”
I was rushing around my old house, doing some last-minute cleaning before my father and Steffie arrived. It was the second time I had cleaned in two days and the place was spotless. I just couldn’t help myself. My nerves were getting the better of me.
I didn’t want drama between Nick and my father. I just wanted everyone to get along, for my father to see I was happy here and to stop judging me for my choice to stay.
“Relax,” Nick said, grabbing me by the waist before I could step up on the fireplace.
“I can’t,” I said, squirming to get free.
I reached again for the ledge but right as my duster touched the mantel, I was flying through the air. Nick had picked me up and tossed me onto a couch.
“Oh for the love . . .” I said with an eye roll.
I pushed up on my elbows but Nick was on top of me in a flash, pinning me down. “Let me up. I need to finish cleaning.”
“It’s clean,” he said. “You could eat off any surface here. Enough.”
“But I—” Nick silenced me with his mouth.
While his tongue tangled with mine, his hips pressed me deeper into the couch. I managed to wiggle a leg free so I could wrap it around his ass and pull him even tighter into me. Pressing my hips into his, I worked to create some friction to ease the throbbing between my legs but with both of us wearing jeans, it wasn’t happening.
“More,” I pleaded.
“Later,” he said, standing up off the couch quickly.
The doorbell chimed throughout the house.
“Come on, Wife,” Nick said, grabbing my hand and pulling me up off the couch. He took the lead and strode to the door. I stayed behind him, waiting to greet our guests as they stepped inside.
The moment Nick opened the door, Steffie’s voice filled the foyer. “Whew! I forgot how hot you were. How about a hug? I’ll warn you, my hands have a tendency to wander.”
I laughed and stepped out from behind Nick to greet my friend. I had expected no less dramatic of an entrance. “Just like I tell my students: hands, feet and other objects to yourself.”
She laughed and pulled me in for a tight hug. Maybe it was due to the pregnancy, but her boobs had grown a size or two since I’d seen her last. They were squeezed tightly into the green blouse she had paired with skinny jeans and six-inch stilettos.
“Welcome to Montana!” I said. “Come on in.” I peered around her hesitantly, expecting to see my father.
“He’s just finishing a conference call,” she said. “He’ll be up in a minute.”
“Sure.” Austin Capital ranked above all else.
“So this is your house?” she said, walking through the foyer and looking around.
“It was. Nick and I live further up in the mountains.” Hopefully, it wouldn’t take too long for a realtor to se
ll this place for me. I had plenty of time to check on it during the summer months, but once school resumed, I didn’t want the burden of an empty, furnished house to maintain.
“Emmeline,” my father said, striding through the door. He gave Nick a sideways glance but came directly toward me.
I looked so much like my mother, it was difficult to find any resemblance to Trent Austin. The shape of our mouths was our only likeness. Maybe that’s why he didn’t like me much. I was nothing like him.
“Hello, Father,” I said, giving him a brief hug while he bent to kiss my cheek.
