“Damn, woman,” he said with a grin, loping after her. “You moved in fast. Impressive.”
She smiled triumphantly. “I don’t mess around.”
“I’ll remember that.”
Bluesy R&B music played over the sound system as they settled into the plush, patterned armchairs. Amanda had gotten a decaf caramel macchiato; if she had caffeine now, she’d be up all night. Besides, just being there with Nick had her adrenaline going, a heady rush. She still couldn’t believe he’d asked her out, and that she’d said yes so easily. But something about him made her want to say yes to anything he suggested.
Down, girl, she thought as she shimmied out of her coat. She glanced over at him, all tall, dark, and sinfully handsome, as he pushed his leather jacket behind him and got comfortable. Then she caught a glance at herself. Still in her scrubs. Sooooo not sexy. She winced, then had a thought. Setting her cup down on the tiny table between them, she pulled the short-sleeved scrubs top over her head, leaving only the tight white turtleneck beneath. “Just wanna shed at least part of the uniform,” she said, feeling like she had to explain.
“I get it. Been there.” His eyes quickly slid over her body. “You will not hear me complain.” The tone of his voice, along with the flash of hunger she caught in his gaze, made it clear he liked what he saw.
She blushed lightly. The top was a little tight, but it was supposed to be underneath her scrubs, and . . . oh, screw it. She’d already done it, and he looked happy about it, so fine. She’d just ignore her not-sexy-at-all lavender pants. At least she was wearing her purple Converse sneakers—those were fun instead of boring. With a contented sigh, she took a sip of her coffee and leaned back into her chair.
“Must be long days for you,” Nick said. “Being cooped up in Myles’s room with him for hours at a shot.”
“I don’t mind it,” she said. “As long as they feel they need me, I’m more than willing. For most of it, believe me, I’ve been too busy. That’s been one sick little boy.” She frowned, recalling it. “The last few weeks have been a bit of a reprieve for him, not going through any treatments. There are even some days . . . well, I don’t mean this to sound disparaging in any way, but it’s like I’m not even working. On the days he feels well, it’s almost more like . . . babysitting.”
“Then why do it?” Nick asked. “On those days . . . ?”
“Because they’re terrified,” Amanda said quietly. “And he’s nowhere near done. He’s weak, and with the transplant coming . . . if he even sneezes right now, they worry. They want someone watching over him all the time. If it’s not me, they’d get someone else. And I’ve done more than my job’s worth of medical care for that boy. So if they want someone there on the downtime, and they’re paying well, and they’re all wonderful people . . .”
“Say no more. I get it.” He sipped from his cup. “You really care about him.”
She nodded before admitting, “Maybe too much.”
“That’s not a bad thing,” Nick said kindly.
She shrugged. “Well, it is what it is. Yes, I care deeply. I just want him to get well so one day he won’t need me anymore.”
Nick hesitated, staring into his cup for a long beat. Then he looked into her eyes. “What are his chances? Can you tell me?”
“Now that they found you, and you’re doing this?” she said. “A lot better. But . . . yeah, it could go either way. No one ever knows. The fact that two rounds each of chemo and radiation didn’t work is obviously a bad thing. His cancer is stubborn. And a bone marrow transplant isn’t a guarantee. His body could reject it.” She ran her fingertip around the rim of her cup, drawing a deep breath to stop herself. “But we can’t give up hope. No way. He’s got a decent chance. He does.”
“I hope to God this works,” Nick said solemnly.
“Me too.” Amanda lifted the cup to her lips and took a sip. It didn’t burn her tongue; that was good. “Is your family going to come to New York when the procedure takes place?”
Nick’s brows furrowed. “I . . . hadn’t thought of that. I don’t think so. I won’t want them to.”
“Why not? The procedure is outpatient, but your recovery could take weeks. You’ll need help.”
“I’m a big boy. I’ll be okay.”
Amanda stared at him. She knew he considered himself a tough guy, but did he have any idea of what was in store for him? She asked him that outright.
“Yes,” he said flatly. “And I’m not worried. Let’s not talk about it now. Okay?”
She stopped herself again. It wasn’t exactly coffee talk, was it? “Sorry.”
“Don’t be,” he said. “I don’t mind talking about it with you. I really don’t. Just not now. I just want to hang out with you tonight, relax and chat about nothing heavy.”
She smiled. “Understood.”
“Good. I mean, you just worked all day. I just had a family reunion I wasn’t planning on. . . .” He snorted out a laugh as he grinned wryly. “Really, we should’ve gone out for a drink. A real drink. Several of them.”
“Next time,” she said, and stole another sip.
His eyes heated. “Yeah?”
“Yeah. Why not?”
“Is this our first date, then?”
Her heart skipped a beat, then took off like a racehorse. What was she doing? But she found herself saying, “Maybe. Let’s see how tonight goes.”
His grin spread, revealing a dimple in his left cheek that made her stomach wobble. He lightly tapped his paper cup to hers. “To tonight going well, then.”
Her breath caught as their eyes locked. God, he affected her.
“This is nice,” he said. “I mean, I don’t know anyone here. I’ve got a bunch of new relatives, yeah, but . . . I’m not at ease around them. Talking to you is so much easier than talking to them. And I like you, Amanda. So yeah . . . the idea of hanging out with you . . . that’d be great.”
She only nodded, wanting to hear more.
“But I need to be up-front with you. I’m only here for a short time,” he said quietly. His expression was somber, and earnest. He turned the cup in his hands. “Few weeks here, a week there, the surgery . . . you know how it might go. And when this is all done, I go back to Miami. Back to my life. So . . .”
“And here I thought you asked me out for coffee,” she said. “Not to marry you.”
The side of his mouth curved. “Yes. Absolutely. But I just felt like that needed to be said. I dunno.”
“Short term. Hang out sometimes. Please have no expectations. Got it.” She crossed her legs and took another sip. “Ya done?”
“Jesus.” He dropped his head into his free hand. “That was . . . I sounded like a dick, didn’t I?”
“No, you sounded honest. I like honest.”
“I’m always honest. To a fault.” He sighed and scrubbed that hand over his face. “Probably already blew that second date, huh?”
She didn’t know what to make of him yet. But she liked his honesty. “Hey. Knock it off. This is the first date I’ve been on in a long time,” she said, shifting to humor, her default setting. “Don’t mess it up for me. I’m trying to enjoy it.”
A surprised laugh burst from him. “Yes, ma’am.” He laughed again and eased back into his chair. “How is that possible, by the way?”
“How is what possible?”
“That a woman as gorgeous as you hasn’t been on a date in a long time?”
“My job’s kind of taken over my life,” she said, her insides warming from his compliment. “When I go home at night, I fall into bed. And even on my days off? I’m just either too tired or too sad to feel like hitting the bar scene. Not my style.”
He nodded, taking that in. “We have that in common, then. I’m also over the bar scene, and I’ve been working too much myself. Just got a promotion, so it was worth it, but . . . I hear you.”
She let her eyes run over his body, the muscles defined, taut and delectable in his charcoal-gray Henley and jeans. The man had
the body of a god, the face of a model, and he oozed sex appeal. He was naturally charming and relatable, even though he screamed alpha male. She bet he had women throwing themselves at him all the time. “You know what? I call bullshit.”
He barked out a laugh. “Excuse me?”
“Your sob story rings false. I bet you date. Probably a lot. I mean, look at you.” She arched a brow mischievously.
“Whaaat?”
“’Fess up, Officer. Honest to a fault? C’mon, let’s have it.”
“Damn, woman.” His grin was playful and sexy as hell. His dark eyes sparkled. “I mean . . . yeah, I’ve had dates. I go out. But nothing serious for a long time. My last real girlfriend was like . . . man, three years ago now.”
“Mmhmmm.” Amanda narrowed her eyes at him, equally playful.
“I swear that’s the whole truth, and nothing but the truth.” His brows arched as he added, “Related: I have nothing against short, hot flings. While I’m ’fessing up and all.”
“Duly noted, Officer.” She smiled, a fizzy feeling bubbling in her chest. She hadn’t flirted with anyone in so long. It felt good. It was fun. He was fun. And so goddamn gorgeous . . . ohhh, she wanted him. She wanted him bad. A short, hot fling with him sounded like heaven on earth. Quick as lightning, a vision flashed through her mind of the two of them rolling around naked in a big bed, white sheets beneath them, taking each other hard and hot . . .
Oh, look, she thought. There’s me throwing my brain out the window. . . . Bye bye, brain.
“You like razzing me,” he said.
“Maybe a little,” she confessed.
“Bold and forward New Yorker, giving the out-of-towner a hard time, huh?”
“You’re a city boy, Miami Vice. You can take it.”
The damn man smoldered at her, his dark eyes all hot and wicked.
Her insides turned to goop. There was insistent throbbing between her legs, just from how he looked at her. He made her burn with lust. He made her want to throw caution to the wind. Yup, she was definitely in trouble.
* * *
After almost two hours of easy conversation subtly laced with sexual tension, Nick and Amanda left Starbucks and walked through the small parking lot. The night was chilly and didn’t feel very springlike, but Amanda was fine. Nick, she noticed, zippered up his jacket right away and shoved his hands into his pockets.
“You’re cold, huh?” she asked.
“I don’t think I’ve gotten warm since I got to New York,” he said. “This chill goes right through my bones.”
“You’ve lived in Florida your whole life?”
“Yup.”
“You have no blood, then.”
He laughed. “And my friends always say I’m hot-blooded.”
She didn’t doubt that. “I meant that you’re not really used to temps lower than sixty-five, so—”
“I knew what you meant.” His crooked grin was playful.
They stopped at her car. A soft breeze blew, making her hair dance lightly around her face. She turned to look up at him and say something, but his hands lifted to grasp her hair gently, pushing it back from her eyes and tucking it behind both of her ears. His large hands cradled her face as he gazed at her and edged a little closer.
Her heart started pounding, a thick thump thump thump that made it hard for her to breathe. His thumbs caressed her cheeks; while his hands were a little chilly, the heat coming off his body enveloped her, intoxicating her. She could smell a hint of his spicy cologne and wanted to burrow in close, wrap herself around him. Her mouth went dry and she licked her lips in anticipation. His eyes shot to her mouth, then back up again.
He stared into her eyes for a long beat, and the intensity in his dark gaze held her captive. Her breath caught as she stared back, delicious anticipation unfurling through her. Slowly, he lowered his head, brushing his lips against hers, taking his time. The contact was featherlight, a sensual hint of things to come.... It set off fireworks inside her. She pressed closer, wanting more, parting her lips to invite him inside.
He deepened the kiss then, taking her mouth with slow, seductive sips. His tongue slipped inside and slid against hers, tasting her, learning her, consuming her. She whimpered softly into his mouth and he held her closer. His fingers sifted through her hair as her arms snaked around his waist.
She felt the car against her back and leaned into it, glad for something to ground her and hold her up. Because as he possessed her with his mouth, his deep, hot kisses made her legs go weak. She held on to his strong body, both to steady herself and because she couldn’t get enough. Her fingers clutched at him, moving up to dig into his broad shoulders as her body pressed closer against his. But the leather jacket didn’t give her the satisfaction of feeling him like she wanted, so her hands moved up the exposed skin of his neck to twist in his short black hair. As his tongue swirled with hers, his strong arms locked around her, holding her tightly against him.
She melted into his embrace, floating on sensation. He smelled good, tasted good, felt even better. They kissed for . . . was it only a few minutes, or longer? She had no idea, and she didn’t care. She wasn’t aware of anything but Nick.
The staccato slam of a car door nearby startled them both. He broke the kiss but panted softly as he leaned his forehead against hers. She couldn’t catch her breath either. The space between them crackled with heat and desire.
“Jesus,” he whispered, still holding her, seemingly unwilling to let go. His eyes searched hers. “That was . . .”
She couldn’t form words at the moment, so she just smiled in mutual wonder.
He dove in for more, kissing her again, lingering as his tongue swept inside. God, his mouth . . . the feel of his body against hers . . . he was tall and solid and warm, and she wanted to drown in him. She could, easily. She knew it and, oddly, it didn’t scare her. It actually left her feeling more exhilarated than she’d felt in ages. He didn’t want her to have any expectations of him. That meant it worked both ways, and she found that freeing. She kissed him back recklessly, trying to give as good as she got.
“So about that second date?” His voice was all husky and low, his eyes were black with lust, and he was sexy as hell. “I’m asking. Please say yes.”
She smiled wide and whispered, “Yes.”
He kissed her again, nipping at her bottom lip before pulling back. “I was thinking of going into Manhattan on Sunday. I’ve never been there before.”
Her eyes widened at that. “Really?”
“Yup.” His fingertips caressed her cheek. “Any chance you’d want to go with me?”
“I’m free on Sunday,” she said. “Besides, I couldn’t let you go there all by yourself for the first time. Clearly you need my expert tour guide services.”
“I was thinking that exact thing. Great minds . . .” His smile matched hers as his hands slid down to her waist. “I don’t have the slightest clue where to start. There’s a train station a few blocks from my hotel. I was just gonna take the train in, walk around, maybe hit Times Square . . . figure it out as I went.”
“It’s supposed to be nice out on Sunday,” she said. “Sunny and in the high fifties. Perfect weather for a day in the city. If you had any blood, I mean.”
He chuckled. “I’ll manage. So let’s make a day of it, then. Together.” He shifted and pressed his hips against hers, with just the slightest pressure, and it set off sparks in her body all over again. She could feel the rock-hard evidence of his arousal against her belly and it sent a heady shiver through her. Knowing she affected him as strongly as he did her made her feel powerful and giddy at the same time.
“You just want to see me in normal clothes,” she joked, trying to distract herself. She wanted more and knew she had to hold back. “You want to see some evidence that I own clothing that’s not scrubs. Tell the truth.”
He laughed and played with a lock of her hair, wrapping it around his long index finger. “I just want to see you. Whether in scrubs, civili
an clothes, or hey, even no clothes at all. That’d be fine by me too.” His grin was wicked. “Totally up to you.”
She snorted out a laugh. “I’ll be dressed, sorry.”
“Ahhh, all right.” He shrugged, then winked. “It was worth a shot.”
She smiled again. “Why don’t I meet you at your hotel so I have somewhere to leave my car, and we’ll go together from there?”
“Sounds good. What time works for you?”
“Um . . . we’ll have to check the train schedule, but around eleven?”
“Perfect.” He lowered his mouth to hers again, kissing her softly. “Thanks for coming out with me tonight.”
“Thanks for buying me a coffee,” she said, savoring the feel of his arms around her. But he blinked, as if a thought had hit him, and released her. Her body felt the loss of his solid warmth and missed it immediately.
“I’ll need your number. . . .” He pulled his phone from his pocket and gave it to her.
She put in her number and handed it back to him. “This was nice,” she said.
“It was.” He grinned warmly as another gust of wind ruffled the top of his hair.
Something occurred to her. “Can I ask one thing?”
“Sure.”
“This . . . I mean, yes, this is casual, but still, it should stay between us,” she said, and looked at him straight on. “Okay?”
His brows furrowed, but he caught on quickly. “As in, don’t mention this to my new siblings? Especially your boss?”
“Yes, please.”
“Your personal life is none of their business.”
“Of course it isn’t. But Charles is very . . . proper. You know?”
“You mean uptight?” Nick quipped.
“A bit of that too,” Amanda conceded. “So they might see this as . . . I don’t know, a complication? Inappropriate. A step over boundaries. Do you know what I mean?”
“Well, it isn’t any of those things, but I get what you’re saying. And you’re the one who has to work for them. So if you wanna keep this on the down low, whatever this is . . . that’s fine with me.” He stepped closer again, eyes sparkling at her as he whispered seductively, “It’ll be our secret.”
It Might Be You Page 11
