by Nicole Helm
Chapter Seven
“She’s in there with Grandpa, you know,” Ryan called from outside.
Nate blinked up at the sunlight pouring into the hangar. He’d had his nose glued to the control panel of Bob’s Cessna trying to figure out what was wrong with the altimeter. He needed a minute to change gears.
“So?”
“So. Do you really think she should be talking to Grandpa?”
“She’s not going to put him on TV.” Nate turned back to the control panel. She wasn’t putting any of them on TV. Yet she kept coming back, all but ignoring him every time he brought up the fact he wasn’t going to change his mind.
She wasn’t convinced. He didn’t know how to convince her. And for some reason they kept ignoring that central problem.
All the sex might have something to do with it.
“Then why the hell is she talking to him?”
Nate refocused on the altimeter. “Why don’t you go ask her?”
Ryan peered up from the ground. “This is your deal. Considering you’re sleeping with her, you are most definitely in charge of her.”
Nate let out a huff and hopped down from the plane. He wiped his hands on his jeans and moved past Ryan. What wasn’t he in charge of around here? “Fine.”
Anything to shut Ryan up.
Inside the office, Mom was working at her desk, cursing at the ancient computer she used for making the schedule.
“Where’s Grandpa?”
“Having a good day. Talking up a storm about the good old days with that TV lady of yours. Where’s your dad?”
Nate ignored the question. Hell if he knew, and that just served to darken his mood even further. He was no fan of having his father around, but when Jed disappeared for days at a time it usually meant trouble was brewing, and it could descend at the worst possible moment.
He trudged to Grandpa’s back room, now more a catchall than a working office. Nate stepped in to find Vivvy bent over a table shoulder-to-shoulder with Grandpa. It did something to him, something he couldn’t quite get a grip on.
He almost smiled. She was listening to Grandpa talk and looking interested in everything he had to say. It was strange to see an outsider here, talking to Grandpa without any outward pity. Something about it squeezed at his lungs, made that uncomfortable affection for Vivvy grow.
“Nathan, come here,” Grandpa said, waving him over to the table. It was littered with photographs from Harrington’s fifty-some years of business.
“You remember this plane?” Grandpa pointed a wrinkled hand at the faded photograph. Nate remembered them all, each plane that had graced Harrington’s hangar. For him, a plane measured the time more than the years.
Gramps pointed to it again, his face contorting with concentration. “The fellow that flew it, he was a celebrity or something, wasn’t he?”
“Yup, one of those crazy Hollywood types.” Nate winked over Grandpa’s head at Vivvy and she grinned in return.
“We were in the service together and when we got out, he only trusted me to work on his plane, but the bastard kept flirting with your grandma. Almost had to toss him out on his ear.”
Nate laughed and moved over to Vivvy’s side of the table. He stood close enough so that his breath would brush her cheek. She didn’t look at him, instead keeping her attention on Grandpa.
“These pictures are great, Millard. Did anyone ever tell you that you should write a book?”
He waved her off, but his smile was genuinely pleased. “People say that, but who’s got the time? Especially when my grandsons are around. Gotta watch out for those two. Always got something up their sleeves.”
“Ry and I wouldn’t cause any trouble.”
Some of the joy moved off Grandpa’s face and confusion took over. “Ry’s here?” Grandpa frowned. “He lives in Kansas City.”
“He’s visiting.” Nate hated when his voice sounded like he was talking to a preschooler, hated being a part of this weird role reversal of caregiver and caretaker.
“Well, I need to go see the boy. It’s been a while. You watch after Vivvy here, Jed. I’m going to go find Ry.”
Nate knew the name mix-up wasn’t on purpose. A product of his disease, age, or even a misfiring thought. There was nothing behind it, but it hollowed Nate out.
Vivvy turned to him, her body close, brown eyes studying him. She reached up, brushed a hand over the hair on his forehead. “I think you take after your grandpa.”
“Most people seem to think I’m like my Dad.”
“I’ve only ever talked to your father on the phone, but I think you’re more of a Millard than a Jed.”
“Thank God my mom gave me a decent name, either way.”
She smiled, but it faltered after a moment. If he’d ever seen nerves on Vivvy, he might have thought that’s what flashed in her expression. Except he’d never seen her nervous or unsure, and couldn’t imagine her being either.
She was a woman who kept her emotions so close to the vest he was convinced he was crazy half the time. But every once in a while he caught a glimpse of something...and wondered.
She turned to face the table again, tracing fingers over the pictures. “Millard is full of stories.”
He stood behind her, moving closer until their bodies were just barely touching. She fit well like this, her ass rounded into his crotch, her head tilted enough so his chin was near her ear.
“I don’t care for planes much,” she said, her voice as unsteady as he’d ever heard it. He pressed closer. “But maybe I’m a convert.”
His mouth brushed her ear and she shivered. “You want to go for a ride?”
“Oh, no. I…claustrophobia, remember?”
Was that what was causing her to act so strangely? Cramped in the small room against him? Except they’d been in a lot more cramped positions than this without her being so off.
“Everything okay?”
“Of course. I think this is probably bordering on inappropriate.”
She didn’t move. He didn’t, either. Nate lowered his mouth to her ear, quieting his voice to a more appropriate level for what he was about to say. “Remember the other night and a favor I’m supposed to return?”
She let out a throaty laugh. “I recall. But your family is around, and it’s still working hours, and—”
He moved the hair off her neck and brushed his lips against the now-exposed skin. Her breath shuddered and he moved his hand along her hip, across her belly, and pulled her closer to him.
She seemed to let go of whatever was bothering her, because she arched her back, pressed against his growing erection. “We can’t do this here,” she said, but she didn’t sound all that concerned.
“Then follow me.” He took her hand and led her around the table, back through the unused hallway to a storage closet he hadn’t been inside of in years. Classy? No. Necessary? It really seemed to be.
“What is this?”
“Storage. No one comes back here.”
She wrinkled her nose at the dim, dusty interior. “Yes, I can see why. You don’t honestly think we should—”
She stopped when their eyes met, and then she smiled. Whatever nerves or strange thing had been going on inside her head was gone. This was the Vivvy he knew, the Vivvy he couldn’t get enough of.
“Gotta use the time we have.” The words weighed heavily in the dingy room when he said them. A strange reminder this was temporary. She looked at the ground and he thought maybe he saw a flicker of hurt in her eyes.
Or maybe he was projecting his own feelings, because the thought of her disappearing from his life actually hurt. She hadn’t been in it that long, but to think next week she wouldn’t be in it at all was surprisingly, viscerally painful.
He shut the door and turned the lock. Light from the small window dappled through the weeds that grew over it. She stood a few strides away from him, just watching.
It was a strange moment. Watching each other. He couldn’t read her expression. Didn’t kno
w if any of her feelings mirrored his own, but the image of her, all dolled up, hair straight, clothes without a wrinkle or a spot of dust, in this craphole of a storage room, was a very real reminder she didn’t belong. No matter what he felt, or what she felt, she was from a different world and was just passing through his.
What he’d just said echoed in his brain. They needed to use the time they had. That meant not thinking about what came after.
“This can wait till later, if you’d rather,” he said and forced himself to grin, to make this fun and light and what this fling between them was supposed to be.
“Don’t be a tease.” She closed the distance between them, as he was hoping she would. The kiss was hot, potent. Everything about Vivvy was potent, but he couldn’t help but feel there was a kind of desperation in it.
He understood. Felt it, too. The thought that maybe if they did this a few more times she wouldn’t be in his system anymore. It was the newness, the uniqueness that had him feeling things he’d never felt before. Enough times together and he’d realize that she was just like every other—
While still pressed up against him, she worked at undoing the button of his fly and Nate was done thinking. He found the zipper on the back of her skirt and pulled it down, slowly. He pushed her back toward the concrete wall until she was almost flush with it, then pulled the skirt to her ankles.
She stepped out of the skirt, never taking her eyes off of him. He leaned toward her, gave her a quick, hard kiss. “Take off your shirt, Vivvy.”
She arched a brow as if to say she didn’t take kindly to being ordered around. But she started to unbutton her shirt as his finger trailed over the smooth skin of her thigh.
Her shirt dropped to one of the tables, his hands dropped to the outline of her panties. She didn’t have the sexiest of pajamas, but her lacy underwear was always top-notch. He slipped a finger under the fabric and watched her face.
Her eyes fluttered closed as he slid his fingers up and down her sex. She was already warm and ready, and he wanted to drive her beyond the point of reason or control. To a point where she would beg him for more.
He removed his fingers, satisfied at her whimper over the lost attention. Pulling her panties down, he kissed along the exposed skin. The scent of her perfume and her shampoo took over the musty smell of the little concrete room, and her soft skin made him forget about the rough concrete walls.
She leaned back against the wall, her legs spreading. He used his mouth to tease his way up her leg, knee to warm center, then back again. Her fingers tangled in his hair, then fisted and guided him toward her.
He used his tongue, paying attention to each eager sound she made, to the buck of her hips, the pressing of her hand. He teased, toyed, tormented her. When her knees started to give out, he used his force to keep her upright and against the wall.
He stood and wrapped his arms around her waist, his male ego soothed by her weak legs. She wrapped her arms around his neck and looked up at him.
“Wow,” she breathed, then her lips curved into a smile. “What am I going to do without you?” Her mouth fell into a frown, her eyes refusing to meet his.
He wasn’t sure what emotion showed on her face, but he knew his own. Regret. The thought of her leaving filled him with it. Even knowing it was a stupid feeling couldn’t stop the weight from settling in his stomach.
He moved his hands from her waist, up her sides, to her shoulders, neck, face. He looked at her until she had no choice but to look back.
She visibly swallowed. “Anyway, this isn’t quite over yet.” She tried that seductive smile, but it failed to reach its usual brilliance. “Got a condom?”
He knew they should talk about what was happening between them, the feelings that were confusing the hell out of him, but it was hard to pay attention to that knowledge with a raging hard-on straining against his zipper.
“I don’t have one on me.” Maybe he should just start carrying them.
“You started something you can’t finish?” She clucked her tongue. “Shame on you, Nate.” Even the sexy teasing lacked a certain spark, but the thought of being inside her was too much to resist.
“Wait a second.” He pulled his wallet from his pocket. Inside was the condom he’d tucked away that first night. The condom he hadn’t needed to use because Vivvy had had her own. “Thank God for your box of condoms Monday night.”
She smiled. “I knew I bought those for a reason.” She carefully unzipped his fly and freed his cock. He worked to tear open the condom, and she stroked him to the point of desperate need.
Maybe he wasn’t ready to talk about what was happening inside of him, but he could show her. This could be more than sex in a storage closet.
She took the condom from his hand and rolled it on. She glanced around the room. “How about this.” She turned toward the shelf behind her, as if to bend over, but something about it felt wrong.
“No.” Nate pulled her hips fiercely to his. He wanted to see her, to keep her eyes on his for this. “Hold on.”
He lifted her up, cupping her ass, then pressed her back against the concrete wall. It worked as enough leverage that he could position himself and push inside of her.
As romantic settings went, it was a negative fifty, but he didn’t care. His eyes held hers as he stroked slowly in and out of her. The wet, tight heat of her made him want to close his eyes and get lost in the moment, but instead he watched her. Emotions flashed across her face, emotions she seemed just as much at a loss with as he did, but she held onto his shoulders, her brown eyes held his, and they loved each other slowly.
As they both reached climax, Nate realized the truth: no amount of working to get her out of his system would ever be enough.
…
Vivvy expelled an uneven breath. Sex of any kind had never left her feeling anything more than physically satisfied. She got dressed quickly, wondering how sex in a storage closet had somehow turned into something else. Something like making love.
She buttoned up her blouse as quickly as she could, fumbling with the last few buttons in her rush. She had to get out of this tiny space. The walls were closing in; she was having trouble breathing.
“You okay, Vivvy?”
She nodded, but only because she couldn’t get the words out. Couldn’t get air in or out. It was like how she felt in an elevator magnified by a hundred. Instead of pricks of fear, wild packs of fear ripped her heart out of its usually cold, unopened place. The place she had learned to keep it for so long. Until now. Until Nate.
“Vivvy.” Nate’s strong hands rested on her shoulders. “Vivvy, look at me.”
She couldn’t. She couldn’t look into his green eyes another second. She couldn’t keep feeling this heavy pressing on her chest. She couldn’t.
Nate took her by the elbow, led her out of the closet and back into the room with the pictures. Gently, he nudged her into a chair. “Take a deep breath.”
It was better out here. She didn’t feel so closed in. Still, when she opened her mouth to breathe, her lungs felt tight. Everything felt wrong and scary. Something felt right and nice about this place and this man, and that inevitably led to hurt. To being alone. Again. Everything in her body resisted.
Nate knelt in front of her, concern curving his lips downward.
“Don’t look at me like that!” She wanted to slap him away. She wanted to hold on to him and cling. She wanted a million things her mind couldn’t find the words for.
“Like what?”
Like you care. Like you want to care. Vivvy squeezed her eyes shut. How had this happened? She’d been so convinced she wouldn’t care and now she did and it didn’t matter. She was leaving in a few days to save her job. Nate deserved better. Someone who could comfort and soothe him since he had no excess of that in his life.
That someone was not her.
“I need to go outside.” She jerked away when he tried to take her arm. She kept her chin up and her hands tucked into fists as she marched herself
through the front of the office and into the cool autumn air outside.
She managed a full breath in, then slowly let it out. She focused on a white puffy cloud in the sky as she regulated her breathing. Though her heart still thundered in her ears, she was regaining her control piece by piece.
She swallowed, took a few more cleansing breaths. Nate had followed her; she hadn’t heard him over the roaring in her ears, but she instinctively knew he was standing behind her. At a considerable distance.
How horribly embarrassing. How absolutely stomach-churning. She’d lost her calm, her control, her everything. All because he made her feel.
“You all right now?” Nate’s voice soothed some part of her even as it caused another part to undulate with worry.
Making sure not to expressly meet his gaze, she turned. “I’m really sorry. I...claustrophobia.”
“Vivvy, just be straight with me. Whatever you’re feeling—”
“That was inexcusable. I apologize. It’s been a while since it’s been that bad. I suppose I’ve let it build. I haven’t been meditating lately. That must be it.”
He crossed his arms over his chest, worry lining his mouth. “You can tell me the truth.”
The truth? Right. Like she could tell him she felt something for him when she hated herself for letting this happen. “I need to be going.”
“Going?”
“I’m a little behind on work. Emails. You know. Um.” Dammit. “So, I’m just, um, going to grab my bag and go…uh, get a hotel room in Addington. I’ll be back tomorrow morning. Um, not too early, of course.” She edged toward the door, forced out an awkward-sounding laugh.
This was awful. This was a nightmare. She looked like a complete idiot, all because she couldn’t keep her emotions in check. Vivvy darted back into the office and found her discarded bag.
She had to get out. Get out of Harrington, out of Demo, out, out, out. Before it closed in around her and then somehow imploded. Everything always did.
“Vivvy.”
She nearly jumped a foot when Nate entered the door as she was about to exit it. She forced a smile, realizing it probably looked like some kind of twisted frown.
