I find his coping method interesting. Different than I'd have thought. I watch him for the second time tonight. He really is a beautiful man.
Dark and brooding-yes.
Authoritative-yes.
Arrogant-absolutely.
Yet, it doesn't stir fear inside me. No, not at all. In fact, right now, the only thing I feel is safe. Safe, in that he would never do what Mathias did. Safe in that I can talk to him and tell him how I feel. Safe, in that he somehow understands me.
After another sip of my brandy, I set the glass down and attempt to break the silence. "The thing is, that location is the only place in the area I can afford."
Nick sets his own glass down and startles me when he reaches for my arms and pulls me close to him to look me directly in the eyes. "Right now, I'm not sure if I should go beat the shit out of Bigelow for what he did to you or spank your ass until it turns red for still considering getting in bed with the devil."
Wide eyed, I swallow hard. But again, this is not fear. Not fear at all. I should be repulsed by his threat. I'm not. I'm actually somehow turned on by his chivalry. And how screwed up is that?
Obviously, I had read this situation completely wrong at the start of our conversation because it is clear Mathias Bigelow and Nick Carrington are anything but friends.
"I have a place I can show you tomorrow," he says.
The declaration throws me for a loop. "No, I don't think that's a good-"
Nick cuts me off before I can finish. "It's an old print shop that I've been saddled with for a while. The place needs a lot of work, and you'd be doing me a favor by taking it off of my hands. Besides, the rent is cheap."
As I stare into Nick's eyes, I consider his offer. I weigh the issues. The biggest being that this time I want to do this on my own. Because of this, I should say no. I probably shouldn't say yes. Yet, cheap is exactly what I need, and besides he wouldn't be involved. I glance away, and then I quickly glance back. Words hover on the tip of my tongue, and finally I say them. "Okay, you can show me the property tomorrow, but no strings."
Nick gives me a nod. "No strings."
That nod that used to infuriate me is now making my pulse race.
What the hell?
With the touch of his fingertips searing through the fabric of my top, all I can think is-what is happening here?
I have no answer.
After he tells me a little bit about the rental space, I thank him and then stand to head to bed. He follows behind me. Upstairs, I turn to look at him before I enter my bedroom, and as I watch him close his door, I can't help but wonder what he and I are becoming.
Friends?
Not quite.
Business Associates?
Perhaps.
More?
Just maybe.
Nick
FOR THE PAST three and a half years I've referred to her as Fiona's bitchy, stuck-up friend from New York City. I don't even think I ever spoke of her by name.
Crazy enough, there are a million words swirling in my mind right now, but not a single one of them are any of those adjectives.
In fact, quite frankly, they seem rather ill-fitting to describe her at the present time.
And it's all because Tess Winters is standing beside me with a huge smile on her face. I honestly don't recall ever noticing how intoxicating her smile can be. Of course, it doesn't hurt that she looks hotter than fuck.
She's wearing tight jeans and a loose sweater. She's relaxed. Casual. Dare I say, bordering on fun. With her shoulder-length hair down, a knit cap on her head, and pure excitement in her brown eyes, she's practically gleaming as she takes in the large rental space.
I'm so fucking attracted to this side of her that I have to fight the urge to want to touch her-to press my palm to the small of her back, or brush my hand against hers, if only to watch the way her face flushes when I do. The blush is something she'd vehemently deny I'm sure, but it's there every time.
Every. Single. Time.
Since it's Saturday, Max doesn't have preschool. The original plan was for Tess to watch Max for the first half of the day and I'd take over around three. However, after my run I decided to blow off my late morning basketball game and take Tess to see the piece of property I told her about last night. I've been holding it for quite some time because the large square footage demands a steeper rent. Rent aside, my gut instinct tells me it just might be what Tess is looking for.
On the way to Printer's Row, I stopped at a park to let Max run around. With the amount of snow that has accumulated, the three of us were able to build a snowman. And a pretty good one at that. We also exchanged a snowball or two. I let Tess get a few my way. And yes, I did so because it made her smile.