Bad Boy’s Bridesmaid(8)
Nate sighed. “Hate to break it to you, but we didn’t have a relationship. You were the neighbor kid. My best friend’s girlfriend’s little sister. We weren’t exactly giving each other power of attorney.”
“Weren’t we friends?”
“Aren’t we still?”
I shrugged. “It’s not like with me and Rick.”
Nate smirked. “Rick couldn’t make his meals or fold his own clothes after Jada left him. You stepped in. I don’t want a maid or mother. I’m looking to fool around a little.”
“Is that all?”
“You want me to ask you on a date?”
This was a mistake. Why did I think I could get it through his thick skull that I was alone and scared? I needed him to cool it for one freaking second so I could untangle my courage from my panties and admit the truth.
Coconut cake was easier than this. “Forget I said anything.”
“Whoa.” Nate didn’t let me escape the office. “Look, Mandy. You gotta take the stick out of your ass or no man is ever gonna fuck it.”
The father of my child, spreading wisdom like his seed. I nearly slapped him.
“What do you want?” Nate asked. “You want…to go on a date? Get me to talk? Want to get to know me? Fine. You name the place, I’ll pick you up.”
“Absolutely not.”
“All right. You can drive.”
“That’s not what I mean,” I said.
“You don’t think I’m interested?”
I laughed. “I think you’re interested in one thing.”
“Can you blame me?”
“Can you understand why I don’t want that?”
“No,” he said.
“Listen to me, Nate Kensington.” I took a deep breath. The nausea returned, and it wasn’t going to be pretty. “That night…when we were together?”
“Yeah?”
“I don’t know how to explain…what happened.”
His damn smile melted me. “It’s real easy, baby. You have a sensitive spot on your neck. I nibbled there, and you surrendered.”
“That’s not…what? No, I don’t!”
“Sure you do. Right…” He grabbed me before I could get away, and his lips pressed against the hollow between my shoulder and neck. “Here.”
Oh…my…
His words murmured over my skin, and the hum of his voice rumbled deep inside me.
My stomach twisted, but it wasn’t the morning sickness. The rough stubble on his chin tickled me, and with every brush of the roughness, my thoughts, willpower, courage, and resistance faded.
“You’re such an ass,” I whispered.
“I’m right, and you know it.”
A shiver traced over my spine. His lips pressed harder, accompanied with a little nip. Just how it happened before. I never thought I’d regret it then. I still wasn’t sure I regretted it now.
“I have something to tell you.” My words trembled as he nibbled along my neck. “And it’s…not going to be…”
“The only thing I want to hear is you moaning my name.”
I shrugged, but the movement wove him back over that sensitive spot. I nearly groaned.
I couldn’t let him seduce me again. The last time ended with a big enough surprise. I didn’t need my family walking in on this disaster.
Or my mother.
Good God.
“Nate.”
I pushed him away and sucked in a deep breath. It didn’t work. I only took in more of his masculine scent. I sat on the edge of the desk and swallowed.
This was it.
I had to tell him about the baby. Now or never. Like ripping off a band-aid—everyone said babies were always sticky, right?
The words didn’t come. I bought some time by absently flipping through the papers on his desk. The numbers on the pages didn’t make any sense. I tilted my head.
“Nate…are you…pulling a profit?”
He grimaced. “Surprised? You sound like my dad.”
“Why don’t you have a bookkeeper?”
“I take care of it on the slow days.”
I bit my lip. Some of the numbers were really good. “You’re doing very well.”
“Yeah.” He grinned, proud of something other than what swung between his legs. “The brewery took off. The bar too. Enough that I’m thinking of starting another location.”
I nodded. “In Ironfield?”
“Nah. Why stay local? I want to get away from my parents and this town. I’m thinking of heading out west.”
“West?”
“California.”
My stomach dropped, condensing two pounds of buttercream frosting and cake into a ticking time bomb. I really wished the baby didn’t hold the detonator.
“That’s…very west.”
He flipped open a menu, tapping on a couple of his premium brews. “I locally source a lot of my ingredients, and I could make more of a variety in California. I figure it’ll get me away from my family, let me hang out on the coast, get some sun. Have fun.”
“You’re serious?”
“I found a spot in Santa Barbara to check out next month. If I like it, I might put in an offer.”
“And you’d want to live out there?”
“Don’t get worried.”
“I’m not worried.”
I lied. I was terrified.
“I’ll be back for the wedding. Wouldn’t miss that—Lindsey would kill me.” He winked. “But I can’t skip out on this chance. I’ve wanted to get away and build something of my own since Arrogance took off.”
Oh God. He had plans. A whole life of pseudo-vagrancy and craftsmanship ahead of him.
He had no idea I was pregnant, never even considered it a possibility, and I had to tell him he couldn’t pursue his life’s dream?
Hell no. I wasn’t telling him about the baby now. I couldn’t.
Not yet. Not until I knew how I’d manage it.
That took time and planning, and I would have to survive until the wedding when I could finally get a clear enough head and schedule to focus on what to do.
And I still didn’t know how he’d take the news. Would he be angry? Would he get upset?
If I hadn’t figured out how to deal with it yet, how could I help him through it?
“I’m serious about the date,” he said.
I blinked. “What?”
“About taking you out. You want to be wined and dined before I take you to bed. I think I can handle that.”
I shook my head. “It’s not going to happen.”
“Mandy, I don’t chase girls.”
“Could have fooled me.”
“Yeah,” Nate said, his voice low. “Me too. I don’t do this. I don’t make an idiot out of myself begging a pretty girl for her company. But there’s something about you I can’t get out of my head.”
“Nate—”
“I always thought wanting someone was painful—an ache or a throbbing need. This isn’t agony. This is pleasure. I want to see you, talk with you. I hope to God I might be able to kiss you once before you push me away.”
“We can’t.”
“I won’t ask for another night with you, not when I know I’d be back in this torture the instant you left my bed.”
He reached for me, and I let his hand graze my cheek.
It’d be so easy to say yes. He’d ease the ache inside me; take away the worry for a few minutes. We fit together so perfectly before. Maybe it would be worth it? I could test it. See if we had any hope of duct taping the fragments of this fairy tale into some sort of happily-ever-after.
But that was foolish. And dangerous. I couldn’t let myself get crushed by my crush, not when he already wielded so much power over me.
How the hell could I explain what I wanted, needed, had to deal with, confused me, ripped through me, kept me up at night, burned inside of me…
I had to get out of here.
“You’re smooth,” I said. “Very convincing.”
“It’s the truth. Not many girls get that from me.” His voice lowered. “Why don’t you start telling me the truth too?”
My heart thudded a little too hard. I would tell him the truth. Eventually. Once I figured it out for myself. But the words stuck in my throat, and nothing I did could force them out.
I shook my head. “I have to go. We’re supposed to go shoe shopping, and Lindsey wants me to wear her heels to stretch them out before the wedding—”
“At some point, you might have to tell your family no.”
I had a whole lot more to tell them, and right now yes was the easiest and caused the least trouble. I shrugged.
“Thanks for letting us use your pub.”
“You can repay me. I’ll pick you up tomorrow at eight.”
He was relentless. I smiled. “Don’t hold your breath.”
“The invitation’s on the table.”
“And here I thought it was in the bed.”
“There’s a variety of invitations, and you’re welcomed to take any or all of them.”
“Good to know.”
He arched an eyebrow. “Wear something sexy.”
“Garters and high heels.” I laughed. “With little tassels for my nipples.”
“It would make a statement.” He winked. “But your tits are perfect without decorations.”
“Thanks, I think.” I turned to the door but couldn’t help myself. “And thanks for what you said earlier.”