The message was clear—ball's in your court, Lay—and she took a deep breath, her fingers scrabbling at the top button of the conservative sun dress she still wore from work that day. The neckline wasn't so high she couldn't have pulled it over her head, but she needed some time to work herself into the idea of undressing in front of him. Hadn't this been what she'd wanted that first night?
It had, but that had been different. She hadn't expected to be here, weeks later, feeling truly and properly courted by her child's father. She'd expected a quick tryst and nothing more. This was so much more.
Fixing her eyes on his, she willed his gaze to stay on hers and not her fingers as she worked the buttons down past the band of her bra, moving toward her belly button slowly, but not slowly enough. Nate stepped into her space then, close enough she knew he wasn't going to be able to see the spider webbing of stretchmarks around her navel, and tucked his thumbs under the straps of her dress, tugging them down over her shoulders. His rough fingertips, moving so gentle, made the backs of her arms prickle with goosebumps. His mouth found her collarbone, working its way upward until he nipped at the point of her shoulder. The dress slid down over her arms and fell away from her hips and she drew a tight breath. This was the part where his adoration of her motherhood ended, she was sure. Standing there in her bra and panties, she knew she wouldn't be enough. Or maybe she was too much.
When he drew back, there was nothing but adoration in his eyes. With a little wiggle, he stepped out of his jeans, grabbed her hand, and bolted for the swimming hole, pulling her along.
They hit the water splashing, until it got deep and impeded their progress. Then Nate wrapped his arms around her and fell into the water like a tree in the forest. They came up sputtering and laughing, and Layla splashed a wave of water at him with the palm of her hand before she swam out deeper.
He followed, matching her stroke for stroke, until they were deep enough her feet didn't reach the smooth rocked bottom, and she floated, weightless, her body buoyant even when she barely treaded water with her arms. She'd always loved the water and the best thing her mom had ever done was take advantage of an afterschool swimming program for less fortunate kids.
Nate narrowed the distance between them, and she slicked her wet hair back off her forehead just as he closed his arms around her, holding her afloat while she felt his feet churning at the water underneath.
"You're crazy," she laughed. "We're not sixteen."
"I feel sixteen right now," he said with a smirk, making a slow rotation in the water with her. She let out a breath, the cool water at her back making the heat of his skin against hers that much hotter. He dropped his face and pressed a kiss where her breast swelled over the cup of her bra, and she pushed her fingers into his hair, tightening them to tip his head back and kiss the corner of his mouth.
"I never did this when I was sixteen," she whispered. So she'd missed the wild parties, but this might have been better. It was quiet and beautiful, and the only person here to see her or judge her was him—and based on the obvious way his body responded to her, there was no judgment to be had.
"I know," he said quietly, his eyes tracking hers in the dim glow of the full moon. His arms tightened around her waist and she wondered what she'd ever been afraid of in the first place. "I can't rewind the last ten years but I can sure as hell still show you a good time if you want."
He shifted his hands lower, over her waist and then to her ass in such a way the most natural step for her was to hitch her thighs around his hips, putting them in an intimately compromising position. Her fingers came out of his hair, slipping down to the flexed muscles in his shoulders. It was barely believable a man this good looking was voluntarily naked with her, never mind that he held her so tight, something a shade darker in his eyes than she'd seen since that first night in the truck. She'd told him then she wasn't the same girl she'd been…so no one night stands…but this was technically their second date and he'd been sniffing around for two weeks now. She could break her own rules…a little, anyway.
*
Later, Nate sat on the tailgate of his truck next to Layla, with their feet swinging; as the warm night air dried their skin, he thought this was the happiest he'd been in a long time. Who knew that Denver, the one place he'd pined for as a youth, thinking things would somehow be miraculously different and better, didn't hold the secret to fulfillment? Oh, he'd had a good run—there was never any shortage of women lurking around the back end of the rodeo looking for a roll in the hay, and he'd had a nice setup—but those were things that could be taken away with one eight second ride. He was pretty sure nothing could steal this kind of happy.
"What time is it?" Layla asked, pulling her wet hair over her shoulder.
He leaned back far to read the digital clock on the dashboard of the truck. "Quarter to eleven."
"Crap, Nan…"
"She's fine."
"I know, but I hate to dump on her. I'm sure she's had a long day." Layla reached for her bundled up sundress and started trying to turn it right-side out.
Nate slid off the tailgate and retrieved her sandals from where she'd dropped them in the sand, then turned back to her. She was tugging the mostly-unbuttoned dress over her head, hiding the cute folds of her soft belly, much to his disappointment. He set the sandals down next to her and slid into the space between her open knees, his fingers going to the buttons near her belly button. He wanted to follow with his lips, but worked hard to be on his best behavior. On their date, she'd said she wasn't interested in the kind of hot, casual thing they'd had going before, and he wanted to prove to her that he was in agreement, despite the battle with his body when her soft, warm skin had been pressed to him in the water. It would have been so easy…but he still had work to do before he could totally lose himself in her physically.
"Look, I know Nan. If she didn't want to do something, she just wouldn't. Same as me. So trust that she wants to be with Mason, that she wants to help you out, and she wants to feed you every second night." He ended with a laugh.
"About that," she said, looping her fingers in the belt loops of the jeans he'd pulled on over wet legs and tugging him close enough their lips almost touched; a brazen move that both surprised and aroused him. "You gotta tell her to stop. I've got a fridge full of food that'll rot if she doesn't quit."
He laughed, kissed her, and finished buttoning her into her dress, leaving the last few at the top open. She slid down off the gate into his arms and he loaded her in the passenger side of the truck before climbing in and heading back toward her house.
Nan was exactly where they'd left her—reading on the porch with a light on, a cup of coffee beside her. God love her. When he'd asked if she'd come by tonight, she hadn't even hesitated. He didn't know if it had more to do with the relationship she'd built with Layla in his absence or her eagerness to encourage anything that gave him reason to settle his roots back in Three Rivers, but he'd go with the momentum for now.
"How was he?" Layla asked, her voice anxious, as they approached the porch and Nan rose.
"Oh he was fine. He fussed a bit about forty five minutes ago, but then he settled quick and easy. Nothing I've never handled." She winked at the pair of them and started down the stairs. Nate stopped her and pressed a kiss to her cheek.
"Thanks again, Nan. I'll be along. I'm just gonna get Layla settled in."
"All right, sweetheart. I'll be in bed. 'Night."
They stood on the porch and watched, waving, as Nan pulled out. When her headlights were out of sight, Layla turned to him.
"'Get me settled in', huh? What, exactly, does that entail?"
He smirked, tugging her toward him just as she reached behind her to shut off the porch light and leave them in darkness.
"I haven't decided yet."
—TWENTY-FIVE—
Layla ushered Nate into the house behind her, stifling a yawn. It was late and she had to be up early for Dr. Fields' office in the morning, but she wasn't about to kick h
im out. Not after the magical night he'd produced for her.
"You look exhausted," he said apologetically.
She shrugged, covering another yawn with her hand.
"I just wasn't ready to say goodnight yet," Nate continued.
The feeling was mutual.
"You kept me up past my bedtime." Her smile was slowed down by her sleepiness, but she still couldn't help it.
"Good thing I'm here to remedy that." Nate took a step forward, pressing a hand on her shoulder as he turned her toward the inner corridors of the house. "Go on with you."
He guided her through the hall to the big bathroom across from her bedroom, then stepped past her to the big clawfoot tub in the end of the long room. She watched, amused, as he perched on the edge of the tub and turned on the water, taking great care to test the temperature until he seemed satisfied. He switched it to the shower, then stood and held out his hand to her.
When she approached, he grasped her dress at the waist, tugging it up and over her head in one smooth motion. She was hyperaware of the harsh lighting in the bathroom, and crossed one arm over her midsection. Yes, he'd seen this already tonight, but moonlight was different than artificial light, and she couldn't help feeling like the magic of the night was about to swirl down the drain with the water in the tub. Her cheeks warmed.
Nate watched her for a moment, his lips pressed together.
"All right," he said finally, turning his back. "I think your body is amazing and powerful, but if this is what you want, I can respect that."
"Thank you," she said quietly, then slipped out of her bra and panties and behind the shower curtain as quickly as she could. The water was warm enough to take any residual chill off but cool enough she wouldn't have any problem sleeping. Closing her eyes and bowing her head into the stream of water, she let it flow over her hair and her back, relaxing…until she heard the rustle of the curtain and realized she wasn't alone. Her back straightened and she let out a short breath. She couldn't see Nate but the warmth of his body behind her was undeniable.
Without any words, he touched her shoulder lightly. If he was going to be turned off by her body, he would have already been long gone, she reminded herself. And he'd put in way more time than any reasonable man would if he was just looking to hit it and quit it.
It took her a long minute to relax, and he waited, with no contact but his fingers light on her upper arm. Then he helped her wash her hair, strong fingers massaging her scalp, and soaped up her loofa, making a gentle, non-invasive exploration of her body that felt more intimate than sex. She turned and looped her arms around his neck while his fingers helped the strong pressure of the spray to rinse away the round of conditioner in her hair, their wet bodies sliding together like they belonged that way. His dark eyes met hers and a slow smile tipped one corner of his lips up.
A long sigh came out of her. The magic was still there. The kind of magic a busy, broke single mother couldn't have imagined finding. This was the sort of thing that happened in the movies, not in her own home. Not to Layla Sullivan.
When they were finished, he stepped out first, wrapping a towel around his waist, then finding one of her big bath towels—one of her few new splurges—and held it open for her. She stepped into it and he held her for a moment, pressing kisses to her cheeks and her forehead.
"You going to follow this all the way through?" she asked, tipping her head up. "Tuck me in and everything?"
He laughed, grabbed a smaller towel off the little shelf above the toilet, and started to rub the wetness out of her hair ever-so-gently. "Yeah, I'll tuck you in and everything."
From her hair, Nate moved down her shoulders, across her collarbone, paying special attention as he pressed the soft towel over every inch of her skin until she was completely dry. By the time he'd finished, she was flushed and aroused and all he did was hang the towel over the bar and usher her toward the hall.
Layla frowned when she caught sight of the clock in the kitchen through the doorway.
"It's getting late; you can take off without tucking me in…" He looked like he planned to protest, so she took a shot in the dark. She wasn't ready to say goodnight, now. "Or you could stay."
She held her breath and watched his expression change to one of hopeful joy.
"Is that what you want, Layla?"
She swallowed, and then nodded. Because despite whatever his intentions were, having him around made her feel good, and it might have been selfish, but she just wanted the comfort of him being there. "I wouldn't have offered if it wasn't."
"You don't have to ask me twice," he said as they moved toward the bedroom door.
"Just let me check on Mason." She paused and nodded toward the bedroom. "Go on in and make yourself comfortable."
She tiptoed down the hall, tightening the knot in her towel as she went, slid into Mason's room, and peered over the edge of the baby's crib. Snug as a bug in a rug, his chubby cheeks flushed with the warmth of sleep. She rested her hand in the middle of his back for a second, the way she always did, to feel the rise and fall of his breaths, and then let out a little sigh of relief. So maybe it was selfish to go to the swimming hole with Nate. Maybe wanting him wasn't something a good mother would do. But nothing bad had happened.
There wasn't anything in the world she wouldn't do or give up to give Mason everything she hadn't had from her parents in her lifetime, but today made her feel like maybe she could have something for herself, too. Without being a bad mother. Yawning, she checked that the monitor was on, and headed back down the hall to her room. Nate had done as she'd told him, stretched out on his back under the covers with the bedside lamp turned on. His broad chest was exposed, and a cursory glance around the room showed the towel he'd worn hanging over the back of a chair. He had turned back the blankets on her side of the bed and patted the exposed mattress, and she climbed in without thinking twice about their nudity. Because she was exhausted, and because she wanted to be close to him.
*
Nate drew her close, so she was curled into his chest with her head resting on his bicep, her warm softness flush against his hip, and pressed a kiss to her forehead. He curled one arm around her shoulders and stroked her hair, and though she had started tense, she relaxed with a long breath, settling against him.
"You know I'd never even actually been to the swimming hole," she said so quietly he wasn't sure he'd heard right.
"No way."
"I never got invited and I was too smart to go by myself. So…thank you." He felt her cheek swell with a smile against his chest. "I had fun, and it was better than I imagined it would be as a teenager."
He bent, kissing her forehead again, his heart swelling. There was a lot of stuff she'd missed out on, if town gossip was true. Silly, simple things that made great memories in his own childhood. Things he was now determined to help her experience. "It was better than it was as a teenager."
She was silent for a moment, and then she let out a little sigh, her soft fingertips tracing designs in the middle of his chest. He angled his hips away from her thigh so she wouldn't feel the evidence of his arousal. He hadn't in a million years anticipated the invitation to stay the night, so he definitely wasn't prepared. He could have easily turned over and fallen into her soft warmth for the rest of the night, but he knew they needed more time; and since it was the only thing he had to give her, he would.
"I'm glad Nan came to sit with Mason. It's not always that easy, you know."
"Hmm?" he inquired, closing his eyes and letting himself relax into her gentle touch.
"I can't just take off at the drop of a hat."
He cracked his eyes open and slanted his gaze down at her. Her eyes were wide open, her fingers paused. He frowned.
"I know that. I just thought this would be nice."
"And it was. But…I don't…" She blew out a breath and he felt tension stiffen her body again. She needed to sleep, because morning would come too early, but there was clearly something on her mind, so he d
idn't stop brushing his palm up and down her arm, encouraging her to get the words out when she was ready.
"What are you getting at, Lay?" he asked gently.
"This is how it is when you're a parent. Quiet nights at home. Can't go anywhere without the baby, or a babysitter, which I can't afford. It's just…probably not what you're used to." She didn't meet his gaze and he gave her shoulder a squeeze.
"You don't think?"
"I know what Denver's like. Or I hear, anyways."
"Denver hasn't been like that for me for a while now." He chuckled. "But I get it. And maybe it's a little different than I'm used to, but that doesn't make me want it any less. I can't think of a better place to be right now."
She remained quiet for a moment, her eyes trained on her fingers, still on his pecs.
"And if I didn't want to be here, I wouldn't be. Please trust me when I tell you these things."
Finally, she lifted her gaze and he smiled. "Okay."
"Now go to sleep, morning's gonna come early."
He reached over her to turn off the bedside lamp, pressed another kiss to her forehead and curled her in his arms.
—TWENTY-SIX—
Layla's alarm played an acoustic strum and she stretched to reach it, only to find herself trapped underneath Nate's blissfully warm, heavy…naked sleeping body. Further, she realized, as she willed her arm to be just a bit longer, pressing up from the foot of the bed with her toes and feeling the slide of skin on skin—she was naked, too. And nothing had happened.
He drew in a quick breath that was dangerously close to a snore, and shifted onto his back, freeing her to turn off the alarm. It wasn't nearly enough sleep, but it would have to do, and she wouldn't have traded last night's date for three extra days of sleep, no matter how badly she needed it. She slid out from under Nate's arm and observed him in the early morning light, his face slack with sleep, dark stubble peppering his jaw. She'd let him sleep a bit longer. Shouldering her robe from the hook on the back of her closet door, she walked along the cool wood floors into the hall.
Secret Heart Page 12
