"I got it," I said, backing away in embarrassment, but of course I misjudged the distance between my bed and me and wound up falling backward onto my bed in an unceremonious heap. Well, at least it wasn't anything he hadn't seen before. Ironically, I'd never been a klutz prior to meeting him. It was as if my brain didn't transmit the appropriate messages to my limbs when he was around.
"You sure?" he asked, suppressing a laugh. "You know, darling, there's nothing to be embarrassed about," he added, sitting on the bed beside me. "If it helps, last night was one of the most erotic nights of my life," he said, running a hand over my bare stomach.
"It was?" I squeaked out, finally finding the neck of my shirt.
"Was it for you?" he asked seriously, letting his fingers trail up over my ribcage.
"Of course," I answered eagerly without hesitation. Although, I'm sure I should be acting like it was no big deal. "It was nice," I added lamely.
"Nice?" he asked, bending over to kiss my stomach.
"Really nice," I murmured as his lips skimmed over my belly button before dipping lower.
"Not erotic?" he asked, running his tongue along the skin just above the top of my pants.
"Yes, it was erotic," I gasped as his tongue found its way beneath my pants.
"The most erotic?" he coaxed, pulling my pants down slightly.
"The most," I agreed as he ran his tongue up the length of my torso.
"Fantastic," he said, hiking up my pants and hauling me to my feet in one fluid movement. "We'll have to explore that later. I have plans for us today," he said, giving my bottom a slight shove toward my bathroom. "Get ready, daylight's a wasting," he added.
"What?" I sputtered, confused how in the span of a moment, we'd gone from a talk about what was erotic to being hauled to my feet and being told to get ready.
"You told me you'd spend a few weeks with me, so I've made some plans," he said with a devilish grin.
"How do you know I don't have to work?" I asked, placing my hands on my hips.
"I checked with Fran when I dropped off her picnic basket. She was kind enough to tell me your days off."
"Her picnic basket?" I asked. "I'm not surprised. That explains her behavior yesterday. She looked like she'd swallowed a canary most of the day," I added.
"She's been extremely helpful."
"I bet. Where else did you go this morning?"
"I went to get the stuff we left after our late-night picnic. I figured I'd beat Mr. James to his property so he wouldn't see the mess we left behind."
"Did you beat him?" I asked in a small voice, just imaging what conclusions someone would jump to when they saw the remains of our evening.
"Funny enough, I didn't know that Mr. James likes to fish on his property every morning. According to him, 'the early bird gets the worm.'"
"Oh, god," I mumbled. "Well, everyone knows now," I said, sagging against the bathroom doorway.
"And that's bad?" he asked, approaching me and placing his hands on my hips.
"People will talk," I said.
"Most people do. That's why we have tongues," he teased. "Does it bother you that it's with me, or just that people will know we had sex?"
"The sex," I said, trying not to blush. "For fuck's sake. I'm twenty-two and acting like 'sex' is a bad word."
"Honey, we're two consenting adults. They can say whatever they want," he said, dropping a kiss on my jaw. "Now, hurry and get ready," he bossed, shooing me through the bathroom door.
"You're not the boss of me," I muttered, closing the door in his face. "I'll take as long as I want," I called through the door for good measure. I could hear him chuckling as he headed out of my room. Despite my arguments, I hurried through my morning rituals. My hair was thrown up on top of my head in a messy bun and my make-up was kept to a minimum with just eyeliner and a light layer of foundation. The only task I didn't rush through was brushing my teeth. Brushing them once didn't seem sufficient, so I proceeded to brush them again after I had flossed and rinsed my mouth with mouthwash. Running my tongue over my squeaky-clean teeth, I smiled in satisfaction before smoothing on a layer of lip gloss.
Five minutes later, I left my room dressed in another heavy sweater and a pair of skinny jeans.
Nathan was in the process of taking a sip of coffee when I entered the living room. He froze with the cup halfway to his lips, studying me intensely.
"What?" I asked, doing a quick check to make sure my zipper was up and that my hair wasn't suddenly standing on end.
He didn't answer, but instead walked over to where I stood.
"You didn't say where we were going, so I figured casual was the best route…" I trailed off as he cupped a hand around my neck and dragged my mouth to his. I opened my mouth to his demands, not sure what the kiss meant. If it was possible, the kiss felt different than the others we had shared. It felt raw and almost primal as he assaulted my mouth. My body's response was quick and instantaneous.
"What was that?" I asked when he finally pulled back, breathing heavily.
"That was my way of telling you that you look positively edible dressed like that."
"Not that I'm complaining, but you've seen me in jeans and a sweater before," I pointed out.
"Not with your hair pulled up and glistening lips that would tempt anyone to sample them," he said.
"It's just a messy bun," I practically purred as his lips moved to my ear, making goose bumps pop up on my arms.
"Trust me, it's hot as hell," he said.
"Well, I'm glad you like it, and thanks for getting me all hot and bothered now too with your assault on my mouth," I said as he stepped up behind me.
"Say it again," he whispered in my ear, wrapping his arms around my stomach to pull me flush against him.
"I'm glad you like it?" I asked, smiling at him through the mirror.
"What? No. Got you all hot and bothered," he clarified.
"You need an ego stroke?" I teased.
"It strokes something, sweetheart, just not my ego," he stated. "Which, at the moment, will have to be put on hold because I have plans for us."
"Am I dressed warm enough?"
"Yeah, it doesn't feel nearly as cold as it was yesterday. All the locals I talked with today claim this is the last warm day before winter sneaks in. I guess a cold front is moving in this evening, and after that, summer and even fall will be forgotten. I'm not entirely sure how they can be so adamant about it, but I guess if you've lived here all your life, you'd know the weather better than a couple Southerners. I figured we better seize the opportunity while we had it," he said, guiding me out the front door.
The sun was shining bright when we stepped outside. I relished the warmth of it, and after the bone chilling rain from the previous evening, the heat felt heavenly. There was still a slight breeze, but it didn't cut through you like yesterday. These were the days we lived for back home, but they were far and few between. Humidity and heat indexes made up eighty percent of the climate in Florida.
"So what do you think?" he asked, indicating the rack with two mountain bikes strapped to the back of his Range Rover.
"We're going on a bike ride?" I whispered, slowly walking toward the mounted bicycles. I was confused how he had figured out another kink in my armor. It could just be a coincidence. No one here knew about the last bike ride I had ever taken. It was the one memory that belonged to me alone.
"I know you have that whole 'no exercise' thing going on, but I figured a leisurely bike ride wouldn't fall under that rule?" he asked, looking uncertain. "I just thought it would be funny after all the joking if we really did take a bike ride together," he added with a crooked grin.
"It's fine. It's just been a long time since I've ridden a bike," I said as memories of my last bike ride assaulted my senses. Pictures filled my head of my mom and me peddling our pink-and-purple beach cruisers. She looked breathtakingly beautiful. It was a Sunday ritual for us to ride our bikes to the beach. We'd wheel them down the wooden steps to the sand below and ride alon
g the water's edge while the wind blew through our hair. Afterward, we would stop at the ice cream stand near the peer. We'd both get chocolate cones dipped in cherry hard shell. The memories were poignant, which is why I rarely visited them. Most of the time they were just too painful.
"Hey, you okay?" Nathan asked, dragging me away from my memories.
"Sure," I answered, pasting a smile on my face.
"When your smile doesn't quite reach your eyes, I know you're just feeding me a line," he remarked, studying me intently.
"Really, it's nothing," I managed to say, although I was unsettled by his intensity and uncanny knack of being able to read me so well.
"I wish you would trust me," he muttered, opening the vehicle door for me.
"There's nothing to trust. I'm not hiding anything," I said, climbing in.
Nathan was still frowning as he climbed into the vehicle beside me.
"Are you expecting a jealous ex-boyfriend to suddenly show up and slash your tires?" I joked, trying to lighten the mood.
"Just put it this way, I wouldn't be surprised," he remarked, pulling his Range Rover onto the main road.
"Seriously, you need to relax and trust me when I say that some psycho will not be slashing your tires. So where are we going?"
"There's a mountain bike trail not far from here. According to Pam at the library, it's a relatively easy incline, but the view is amazing."
"Are you on a first-name basis with everyone in town?" I inquired, wondering how someone who'd only been here for six days had become friendly with half the town. Of course, that was the same amount of time I'd known him, and the fact that we'd already been intimate wasn't lost on me. Only one word came to mind to describe him: charming. He'd managed to charm the town much like he'd charmed me. His sexy radio voice didn't hurt of course. It had the knack of putting a person at ease.
"Pretty much," he answered as the last of the tension left him. "They all seem to think quite fondly of you."
"That's just because I'm new. I'm a novelty right now," I said. I shouldn't be surprised. This is what a small town gets you. It's what I said I wanted. "I'm sure they're already eyeing you to take my place as the new toy."
"I'm only interested in being your toy." He winked at me.
"That could end badly for you. I loved playing with my toys," I chirped before the full implication of my words had fully run through my head. "I meant to say you'd get sick of me playing with you so much," I added, burying myself further in innuendo hell.
"Honey, you can play with me as much as you want." He smirked.
"I bet." I blushed, making a point of not looking at his lap.
"It's pretty cute how you blush," he said, stroking a finger down my cheek.
"You seem to have that power over me," I admitted.
"Really? So, this is just for me?"
"Don't look so happy about it. I'm not thrilled that my feelings seem to be on display for you to see," I retorted.
"I like it. I'm not sure I remember the last time I was with a woman who allowed herself to be so open. It makes you unique, not to mention, it appeals to me in a very unexpected way," he reassured me, turning the vehicle down a road with a carved wooden sign that had the words "National Park" burned in it.
The road leading to the national park was compromised of dirt and gravel and pocketed with multiple ruts. We bumped along for almost a mile before it opened up to a small parking lot where an orange rusted-out Ford truck and small yellow VW Bug were parked. Large oak trees shaded the small parking lot with the last of their burnt orange-colored leaves. Judging by the amount of leaves that crunched underfoot as we unloaded the bikes, it wouldn't be long before the majestic trees were completely bare.
Chapter 18: A day on the trails
Nathan
Ashton was silent as I finished unloading the bikes, which had me second-guessing the whole trip. I knew once again she was keeping something from me, and yet, I felt powerless on how to get her to open up. Maybe if we'd been dating for several months, I'd have the right to be more demanding, but the tentative relationship we had did not allow for that. My goal of charming her into my arms had worked according to plan, but what had been acceptable two days ago was no longer what I wanted. I knew I was scaling a precarious slope that could crash down on me at any moment. The smart thing would be to abide by the rules we had set and enjoy the moment. Unfortunately, I wasn't smart where she was concerned. I wanted more.
"You sure you're okay with this?" I asked, handing her one of the helmets.
"Only if you swear you won't laugh if I land on my ass, which seems likely since it always seems to happen when you're around."
"I solemnly swear I won't laugh if you fall on your ass," I proclaimed, raising my right hand for emphasis.
"Smart ass," she complained, wheeling her bike toward the trail. "You go first until I get the hang of it," she added, straddling her bike.
"You'll be fine. Supposedly, you never forget how to ride a bike," I said, peddling away. I rode for a hundred yards or so before venturing a look behind me to make sure she was okay. She looked like a natural, so obviously all her fears were for naught. It wasn't until I took in the clouded expression on her face that I guessed she wasn't enjoying the ride at all. Slowing to a stop, I straddled the bike, waiting for her to catch up.
"What's wrong?" she asked, looking somewhat distracted.
"Honey, I wanted to do something that you'd enjoy. I didn't mean for this to be some kind of torture chamber. Why don't we head back and we can do something else."
"No," she said in an unexpectedly stern manor. "I mean, I don't want to turn around. Really, I'm enjoying it."
"Sweets, you have a weird way of showing enjoyment. You look like you're in physical pain. Really, it won't be any skin off my nose if we head back."
"It's not that," she sighed heavily before looking up at me. I was shocked to see her in tears. "It's just, the last time I rode a bike, it was with my mom right before she died. We had this tradition where we would bike to the beach every week and ride along the shoreline. The last time we went, she was too exhausted to make it home, so my dad came to get us. A week later, she was too sick to ride at all and three days after that, she went to the hospital and never came home—stage four cancer. We never knew it. That last bike ride we took has always stuck with me. She was in a weird mood that day. In hindsight, I can't help wondering if at the time she suspected something was off," she answered as a lone tear streaked down her cheek.
"Oh, god, babe, I didn't realize," I said, using the pad of my thumb to wipe away her tear. "Let's go back. We'll do something else," I added, unprepared for the reaction her tears had on me. Usually, I viewed tears as a weapon that women readily used in their arsenal to keep men in line. Normally, I would have fled the scene at the first hint of tears, but Ashton's had the opposite effect on me.
"No, I don't want to leave," she insisted. "It's almost therapeutic. I've kept memories of her at bay for so long. It's nice."
"Right, so nice you're crying?" I asked skeptically.
"Bittersweet tears," she said, swiping the moisture off her cheeks and flashing me a tentative smile.
"And there's a difference?"
"A big difference, especially for me since I never cry the other kind," she admitted.
"Never?"
"Not since my mom died. I saw what a toll my tears had on my father and I vowed never to cry again."
I studied her for a moment, wishing I could figure her out. It amazed me the way she kept surprising me. When I had first been hired to find her, I'd studied the packet of pictures my client had sent me and saw nothing but a spoiled princess. At the time, I didn't care why she had run. I pretty much just assumed she'd skipped out to be with another man because I'd seen it so many times before. Every preconceived notion I had made before I found her was wrong. It was supposed to be me charming her, but somehow, she'd turned the tables and was the one charming me.
"So stop being a wuss
and trying to weasel out of the bike ride," she said impishly, placing her feet on her peddles and taking off.
I took off after her, chuckling along the way. The tears were done now, which was a relief. Ashton continued to taunt and joke her way up the slow inclining trail. I allowed her to take the lead for purely selfish reasons since her ass looked incredible on a bike seat. By the time we reached the top, Ashton was breathing heavily and looked exhausted. I couldn't help ribbing her that if she exercised she'd have more stamina.
"My stamina was good enough last night," she answered.
Even though she gave as good as she got, I could tell she was more tired than she was willing to admit. At least the ride back down the trail was much easier.
"I blame the late-night canoe ride you took me on last night," she said, sinking into the passenger seat gratefully.
"You're probably right," I admitted, feeling guilty despite my joking. I handed her the keys before I closed her door so she could warm up the Range Rover while I loaded the bikes.
The ride back to Ashton's was quiet. She rested her head back against the seat with her eyes shut practically the entire way. I smiled briefly at how whipped she looked. She wasn't lying when she said she was worn out.
"I have a few things to do this afternoon, but thought I'd come over later if that was okay with you?" I asked, finally breaking the silence as I pulled into her driveway.
"Sure," she answered, wearily pushing the vehicle door open.
"I'm thinking we'll stay in," I added, laughing as she staggered slightly. "You better take a nap. You look like you were dragged down the mountain.
"Your flattery is staggering. I could outride you any day," she bragged as she stifled another yawn.
I laughed again. "Go take a nap and I'll be back later with some dinner. Then we can discuss your bike-riding skills," I suggested, wagging my eyebrows at her.
"Great, now that we've gone on an actual bike ride, I can't tell if you mean 'bike ride,'" she said, pointing to the back of the vehicle, "or 'bike ride,'" she said again, moving her hips back and forth.
No Attachments Page 12
