by Snow, Nicole
“Do you need help with anything?”
“From a girl who burns nuggets? No. Go play with the kid while I whip up the best sauce you’ve ever had.”
“Big promises, mister.” I fold my arms. “Can I hang out and watch?”
“Of course. Want a glass of wine?”
“Nick, you know I’m more of a beer girl. At least we’ve moved on from champagne...” I wink at him.
He gives me a knowing smile. I think the champagne incident feels like a whole lifetime ago to both of us.
While the sauce simmers, he turns on the radio, reaches in the fridge, and pulls out a couple freshly chilled bottles of a local brew I love. We clink them together, and I let his arm wind around my shoulders.
It doesn’t stop there, skimming fingers down my back. Every subtle flex of his fingers reminds me what a beautiful contrast he is.
His poise, his power, his control.
When his fingers brush the waistband of my pants, I suck in a breath, glaring pure heat into his eyes.
“If Millie weren’t here...” he whispers, a dark suggestion in his eyes.
“You—we—we’d both be in trouble,” I stutter back.
And I think we’re both lucky a loud, happy laugh from the living room swings us back to reality.
I give his collar a playful flick and push my shirt back down. While he stirs the sauce, taking long pulls off his beer and watching me the whole time, I insist on throwing together a salad.
“Do you always take over?” he asks.
“You’ve got the main course covered. I can handle a basic Caesar salad. It’s the least I can do.”
Millie comes padding in. “It smells like hangry in here!”
Nick smiles.
“Millie, we’re guests. Let’s save hangry for home, okay?” I say.
She crosses her arms. “But I’m hangry now, Auntie Reese.”
Nick laughs at her, thoroughly amused.
“Don’t encourage her. Not everything she does is cute,” I say.
“This is,” he says, pointing a wooden spoon at her. “Dinner’s almost ready for our critic.”
Now Millie laughs too.
I roll my eyes and go back to tossing salad, hiding a smile.
“Can we eat on the couch and watch Toy Story?” Millie asks.
Dang. Maybe we’re done with a thousand runs of Frozen.
“Sure,” Nick says.
I catch his eyes. “It’s a white couch. That’s...not a good idea. She’s a walking case of butterfingers.”
He looks at Millie with a gentle smile. “How about we do movie time after dinner?”
Millie agrees, I think, because Nick suggested it.
Twenty minutes later, we’re at the table, and I’m dying right in front of him. Everything’s so freaking good. Even Millie downs her food without complaint, smiling at me through dinner.
“Are you enjoying this?” I ask her.
“Yeah! Love Quick Nick psketti.”
“I like my psketti, too,” Nick says, twirling a pile of noodles around his fork. “The effort always makes it taste better.”
“You make a mean psketti,” I agree.
“Better than jarred stuff?” He quirks an eyebrow at me.
“Definitely.” I hold my hands up in surrender.
All things considered, we’ve found a way to salvage the evening after that rotten run-in with Abby’s ex. Millie’s having fun, and I can’t remember the last time I’ve felt so relaxed.
After dinner, we get half an hour into the movie before Millie’s nodding off. I get the kidlet cleaned up and put her to bed.
Once she’s down for the night, sleeping heavily, I head back to the living room, hoping to find Nick.
He grins at me from the couch and holds up a fresh beer for me.
“Oh, you didn’t have to do that.”
“It’s a trade. You need to relax and I need the company,” he says matter-of-factly.
“Thanks, mind reader.” I sit down beside him and take it. “So, I’ve been thinking about the way things went down with Will. That whole conversation was just strange, don’t you think?”
“Yeah? I was too busy wanting to punch him in the face from the first second I saw him to notice. Of course, I don’t know the situation like you do. What struck you as off?”
“When he called, he asked if I’d meet him there to discuss how to get Abby out and so he could see Millie. I’ve visited Abby a couple of times since she got arrested, and every time she’s asked me to make sure Will doesn’t take Millie. But it’s like...he was concerned with helping her get out of jail. In all the years she’s known him, this would be the first time he ever acted like he cared about her.”
Nick nods, his mile-wide shoulders rolling as he clasps his hands.
“Also, he asked me there to see Millie, but he didn’t talk to her that much once we got there. He didn’t ask if she liked staying with me or if she needed anything. Then he started asking about Abby’s place...”
“She didn’t even want to hug him,” he agrees.
“I know, and she’s fine with you. She didn’t even know you before all this. That says it all.” I slurp my beer again.
“He won’t take Millie. You saw him take off with his tail between his legs. I told him I’d play hardball. The jackass is hiding something, and he doesn’t want the law involved. Was he always so creepy?”
I frown. “He and Abby were an on again, off again thing for years. I just hope he doesn’t have a key to her place.”
“Do you want to have the locks changed?” he asks.
“It’s a rental and I’d rather not deal with Mrs. Gamlin. I just want to know what he’s after. I can’t imagine he’d find anything after investigators tore through the place, but if there is something to find, I need to be the one to find it. Not him.”
“I told you, I’ll help you go through it, whenever you’re ready. I don’t want you there alone.”
“I know. Thank you,” I say quietly.
“Quit thanking me.”
I turn to face him slowly, trying not to lose myself in eyes like liquid turquoise. “I have to. You don’t have to do any of this and—”
“I don’t, but I want to.” His gaze sharpens. “Reese, can I ask you something?”
I nod, my pulse quickening.
“Do you remember our fake date?”
My gut clenches.
“You mean the night Carmen slapped you silly and slung champagne on us right after we...you know. We trended on social media the next week because none of the influencers could understand why you’d drop Seraphina for a total nobody. How could I forget?”
“Fuck. When you put it like that, it sounds devastating.”
“Is there another way to put it?” I shrug, checking my inner bitch, knowing he’s done more than enough to make up for that strange humiliation. “It’s fine. It was a long time ago.”
“It’s not, and I’m still sorry.”
“What?”
“I’m sorry I took you there that night. I never told you, whether I intended it or not, I used you to shield me from past drama, and it was wrong. Dead wrong.” He stands, staring out the massive glass door of the balcony, into the Chicago night. “Dating Carmen was my biggest mistake. She was a childhood friend who never should’ve become more. After she went to Hollywood, she transformed from the sweet girl next door into a hungry, manipulative bitch. She’d make me go places and do things to prove that she could. Our relationship—if you can call it that—was about partying and sex—”
I almost shudder.
It’s not my business.
I shouldn’t care about Nick’s love history, but...he’s opening up to me. And I hurt for Nick Brandt with every word.
“I’m sorry, Reese. More than you’ll ever know,” he says. “I’m just giving you the explanation you’ve deserved for months. Carmen grew up, became obsessed with money and power, and she thought with her fame and my family’s position, we could be u
nstoppable.”
I blink at him, slowly taking it in.
“I broke up with her,” he continues with a sneer. “Always the same game. She’d come back. I’d push her away—I’d try. We do have history, so I fell into her trap one too many times. Not long before Grandma got sick and plunged us into a crisis, I realized I was too old for that bullshit. I said goodbye once and for all, but she didn’t get the message. I knew showing up in public with another woman would be a clear indication it was over. For everyone. Her and the gossip traders.”
“I know,” I say tightly.
“Let me finish.”
We lock eyes and I nod slowly.
“I could have taken anyone, Reese, not just the original stand-in I had lined up before she canceled, and I asked you. When that fell through, I realized I didn’t want anyone. I wanted you. What I’m telling you is...the date part was always real to me. I just went about it like a fucking moose.”
Wait, what?
He wanted me there? On a date? For real?
“Anyhow, I hate that it poisoned shit between us for so long,” he says, walking over to me. “I never wanted you to hate me.”
With my heart in pieces, I pick up his hand.
He laces his fingers through mine.
“Nick, after everything you’ve done...I could never hate you. I—” God. I can’t believe I’m about to admit this. “I didn’t even totally hate you after that night.” I sigh. “You told me you just needed a plus one like a business thing, but everything about that night seemed like a date. Especially that kiss.”
There, I said it.
I named the ten-ton elephant in the room.
His smirk turns into a grin.
Heat pumps under my cheeks and I smile back.
“I hoped it was more than an impulsive moment before Carmen came barreling at us. It was obvious I was there to make her jealous. I didn’t hate you. I was just—hurt.”
“Fuck, Reese. I’m so sorry.”
He moves in closer, gently pressing his palm against my face, lifting me to stand with him.
My breath becomes a shallow quiver.
My eyes are lost in gilded green eyes full of light when he turns my head, caresses my chin, and brings those lips I’ve craved for months home.
Holy God.
His tongue is warm, smooth whiskey on my lips. A hunter in my mouth searching for my heat, my whimper.
It’s sweet and playful and everything that’s quintessentially Nick, moving in determined strokes, conquering me from within.
My arms fly around him, my nails digging into his back, hugging him tighter. I’m becoming an animal in heat. I’d have a better chance of stopping a nuclear reaction.
Nick groans into my mouth, sheltering me against him, dragging his hands to my ass.
When he squeezes, when he grinds against me, it happens.
I’m dead.
I’ll have to tell the rest of this tale from the afterlife because that’s how bad he destroys me—before he’s even been inside me.
We stay locked in hushed whispers and fencing tongues for what feels like forever. Me, pressed against his hard slab of a body.
His tongue moving fiercely in my mouth in one forever-kiss before he breaks away with a muffled rasp. He turns his head back to the city, taking a ragged breath.
Holy shitballs.
Dazed, I bring my fingers to my lips, touch them, and drop my hand.
I’ve never been kissed like that.
The way we lashed tongues that night at the gala was just a preview. I don’t think I even have words for what the hell just happened.
Honestly, I’m not that experienced. After Abby got pregnant, I knew that couldn’t be my life. I ran away from dating to focus on school and work. I’ve never even gone all the way.
Still, a woman knows when she’s been kissed by a master.
And the way I know it with Nick vibrates my bones.
The job, Abby, even Millie feel so distant in the wake of that riptide against my mouth. It’s the break from life I’ve needed.
The only thing I want to focus on now is Nicholas Brandt and every seething rock-hard inch of him.
He looks at me like I’m prey. “Reese, I didn’t plan—”
“Don’t apologize,” I rush out.
“Millie’s here, we can’t—”
“Dude. You can’t just kiss me like that and then apologize.”
“You don’t regret it, then?” he says, his voice matching the smolder in his eyes.
I shake my head violently.
“I’m still your boss, you know,” he whispers.
I shrug, a smile digging at my cheeks.
“I won’t tell if you don’t. I bet we can figure this out after my mess gets cleaned up.”
Growling, he pulls me into his lap as we collapse together on the sofa, kissing and caressing.
“Woman, you will kill me first. If we don’t fuck soon—before any rubber stamp for dating from HR—I’ll be confetti,” he says hoarsely.
I laugh, giving him a quick kiss again before I say, “I hope not. And I hope we won’t have to wait for HR, either, office policy be damned. I couldn’t handle that.”
His lips smother mine again, softer this time, but hungrier than ever.
And when he moves away, he just holds me for the longest time, stroking his hand slowly up and down my head like I’m something to be cherished.
The silence is intense. With anyone else, it would be awkward, but with him? It’s like the pause in the lyrics of a song that makes your heart soar.
I’m tempted to kiss him again. Just to end this silent intermission.
Frankly, I’m tempted to do a lot of things I shouldn’t, knowing we have a kid here who could wake up anytime, but the way he makes me throb...
Sweet Jesus.
I’m not used to kissing guys like this.
I’m especially not used to kissing guys who are my boss and the biggest, wettest emotional rush of my existence. I’m not sure what the rules are for this.
“Can I have another beer?” I whisper, trying to un-jam my brain.
“For sure. More chilling in the fridge.”
I get up, planning to go to the fridge on my own, but he’s moving with me and our hands are still locked together.
He opens the fridge, hands me a beer, and grabs another beverage for himself—root beer, I notice.
Interesting. Looks like he’s taking this moderation thing pretty seriously.
I pop the top and take a swig. “Nick, you’ve helped me through a really dark time. I don’t think I would have gotten through this without you—”
“You would. You’re stronger than you think.”
“I just want to say I want to help you too. You don’t have to deal with all the tabloid crap on your own. I’ll help you through it any way I can,” I whisper.
He shakes his head.
“Sweetheart, I made my bed. I’ll lie in it, and without you rolling in the mud.”
“I’m here for you.”
“After our pseudo-date, I swore to myself that if you ever wound up going viral on social media, it wouldn’t be because of me. I won’t put you through that.”
I plunk my drink down on the counter, walk over to Nick, wrap my arms around him, and lean up on my toes. My plan is to be the one doing the kissing this time, but he doesn’t give me a chance.
He answers first, pressing his lips to mine, so deliciously hot. His arms tighten around my back, pulling me closer.
He kisses me so deeply my whole body trembles against him.
When he releases my mouth, I still want more. I take a deep breath instead, trying to calm down.
Oh, but he’s not done.
He runs his teeth along my cheek, my jaw, and then down the side of my neck, exercising a patience I don’t have.
I giggle, squirming away before it’s too late.
He gives me a worried look. “You don’t like that?”
“You’re—yo
u’re making me crazy. I like it too much. But more...tonight? We should think about this,” I whisper, a horrified part of my brain screaming at my voice of reason. “If we don’t stop now...it’ll be impossible.”
He smiles, big and bold and proud. I watch him press the root beer bottle to his cheek, sighing like a beast.
“You saved me from heatstroke,” he says, pulling me closer again. “I’m damn glad you put Millie in your room with you.”
“Why?”
“Because if you hadn’t, we’d be in deep shit.”
“Because I’m so irresistible?” I joke.
“Fuck yes, you are. But grab your beer and follow me. Netflix or Monopoly?” he asks, raking his eyes across me. “If there’s not a bed in our forecast, we’d better distract ourselves.”
I snicker. “You’re a Brandt. You’ll beat me at Monopoly. Though I have to say, I never had you pegged for the board game type.”
He shrugs. “Nothing like a family war over it after Christmas dinner. It’s even better with Paige in the mix now.”
I smile. For a second, our eyes connect, and I’m dangerously close to short-circuiting.
This man makes me want to rip up my rules, my concerns, and take a big naked leap of faith.
“If I choose Netflix, do I get the remote?” I ask.
“Sure, as long as you’re not choosing chick flicks or too much skin. I’ll die,” he rumbles, a mischief dancing in his eyes that brings me to my knees.
18
Until Sunrise (Nick)
Netflix or Monopoly?
I’m such a dumbass. I sound like a high school kid, but I had to change the subject. Before I demanded if she wanted my cock or my mouth between her legs first.
A couple of years ago, I’d have already dragged Reese to my bedroom and fucked the life out of her.
But her kid niece is asleep in my guest room. And the fact that we’ve gotten physical enough means a thousand complications are already erupting into our lives like crooked teeth.
She deserves better than a rushed fuck.
Also, I don’t want her thinking that’s why I asked her to stay.
I’m going to do the right thing for once—even if it murders me—and that means not devouring a woman I haven’t even taken on a real date we both know about.
