The mattress on the bed shifted underneath her as Nate pulled himself up. “Sorry I woke you.” He raked his hand across his face. “I’m fine. It was just a dream.”
Yeah, right. She may not have been an expert on the brain and how it behaved during sleep, but she knew people didn’t normally moan and break out in a sweat when they slept. “That wasn’t a dream, Nate.” She unclasped her hands and placed a palm on his cheek. “Do you want to talk about it?” The stubble growing on his face scratched her fingers as she caressed his cheek.
His hand wrapped around her wrist holding her hand still. “I said I’m fine. It was just a dream I have sometimes. No big deal.”
Evidently his definition of a big deal varied greatly from hers. Her common sense said to let it go. Her soul said something else. “If you need anything, I’m here.” She’d loved him too much at one time to see him suffering now.
“I’m fine,” he said again, the hard edge from his voice gone now.
Now is a good time to go. Lauren swallowed, comprehension hitting her full on. Nate sat virtually naked just inches away. Thanks to her extra bright flashlight she saw every bare inch of him in magnificent detail. Despite the little voice telling her otherwise, Lauren let her gaze roam from his face across his shoulders and chest and down his torso. Not an extra ounce of flesh existed on him. Reversing the track her eyes had just taken, she spotted the Marine insignia tattoo—the eagle, anchor, and globe—on his upper right bicep near his shoulder. Back in high school she never would’ve guessed he’d get a tattoo, yet it looked good on him. Almost natural, if that was possible.
“Thanks.” Nate’s voice washed over her, tugging her back to reality. His hand moved down her arm creating goosebumps on her skin.
Lauren met his hazel-blue eyes, unable to look away. For a moment it felt as if the clock had turned back fifteen years. As if drawn by a pulley, she leaned forward intent on one thing, kissing him again. A sudden shift on the mattress when JoJo leaped on the bed broke whatever spell she’d fallen under. With a jerk, Lauren pulled her arm away and jumped up. Unable to look at him again, Lauren focused on the wall behind him. “The power went out. There is a flashlight in the bureau if you need it.” She sensed that he wanted to say something, so she didn’t give him the opportunity. “I’m going back to bed. See you in the morning.” Lauren took a few steps toward the door, but when JoJo didn’t follow she stopped. “Come on, JoJo. Bed.” The dog looked up in response to her name, but she didn’t get off the bed. Instead she settled her head on her paws. Prepared to pull the dog off the bed, she moved toward her. “Come on, you silly goose. He doesn’t want you to sleep in here tonight.”
“She can stay if she wants.”
Lauren’s hand paused above the dog’s collar. “Are you sure? She likes to hog the bed.”
“Positive. Leave her.”
Don’t argue. Leave while you still can. After she gave JoJo one final pat, she retreated back to her own room and away from the temptation that Nate presented.
***
With one hand she covered a yawn while the other poured an extra-large mug of coffee. After the restless sleep she’d had, she needed all the caffeine she could get. Thank goodness the power was back on. Before doing anything else, she took a long swallow of the French-vanilla coffee. Combined with a splash of milk and two sugars, it was the perfect mix of sweet and creamy. The warm liquid washed through her body, warming her as well. While the power had come back on a good fifteen minutes earlier, the house still remained on the chilly side. It would probably take another hour or so before it reached her preferred temperature.
After a few more sips she moved on, prepared to tackle breakfast. The weekends were the only time she put extra effort into cooking breakfast. During the week she opted for things like cereal with fruit or yogurt mixed with granola. On Saturdays and Sundays though, she didn’t need to rush, so French toast or homemade waffles often made the menu.
So far she’d heard nothing from the spare bedroom. In case that meant Nate still slept, she tried to be quiet as she moved around the kitchen. After living alone for so long, she’d gotten used to not worrying about waking someone else up. Even if she didn’t wake him, at some point he’d make an appearance. Then what? Should she bring up the scene last night or let it go? He’d brushed the dream off as nothing. The expression on his face said otherwise. Granted, people experienced nightmares all the time, yet a tiny voice said the dream he had last night was much more and something that happened often.
It’s none of my business. Lauren cracked a few eggs into a bowl and then added some vanilla and milk. Nate had family and friends to talk to. He didn’t need her interference. Besides, if she tried to help he may interpret it in the wrong way. Right now she didn’t need that complication. Things with Kevin were going well. Too much interaction with Nate could jeopardize that relationship. With more force than necessary, Lauren beat the eggs together with the vanilla and milk before adding sugar and cinnamon to the mixture. Once satisfied, she set the bowl aside, dug out her skillet, and turned on the stove. All the while though, she kept an ear tuned for any movement in the spare bedroom. If he didn’t wake up on his own soon, JoJo was sure to wake him. JoJo always woke her on the weekends when her bladder could wait no longer.
Nate felt the last remnants of sleep drift away. With reluctance, he opened his eyes. An unfamiliar room surrounded him, and a black dog slept with its head resting on the other pillow. Instantly his brain kicked in. Memories from the day before flashed through his head. Lauren’s house. In one motion he swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood. Without even bothering to grab his jeans, he moved to the window. A winter wonderland greeted him. Snow no longer fell, but at least a foot of the white stuff covered the backyard. If he hoped to leave anytime soon he had some shoveling to do. Despite knowing what he needed to do, he stood at the window. It had been a while since he’d seen snow like this. If the temperature stayed as cold as it had been, this snow would be around past April Fool’s Day.
Enough watching the scenery. Get your ass moving. Turning back toward the bed, Nate snatched up his jeans. Once dressed, he still held back. Sounds from the kitchen told him Lauren was up. He’d faced down enemies with weapons, yet a deep unease made him reluctant to face her this morning. Shame burned a hole in his chest, a bit like a flame burning its way through paper. No one knew about his nightmares. They’d started more than a year ago. Some weeks they came every night. Other times he’d go weeks between them. Every time they came he handled them in the same way. He’d stuff all the emotions they evoked back into the little box where they belonged and consider himself damn lucky. So many of his buddies suffered in ways much worse than dreams. If he had to deal with a few dreams every once in a while, he wouldn’t complain.
The scene from last night wasn’t the only thing that kept him in the bedroom. He’d kissed her. Something he had no right doing. Even though she had kissed him back, he had made the first move last night, which put all the blame on his shoulders. Can’t undo it, so get your ass out there. If he could change the past, the kiss from the night before wouldn’t be the only thing he’d undo.
“Come on, JoJo. Time to get out of bed.” Nate rubbed the dog’s head. At the sound of her name, the dog stretched out all four legs then jumped to the floor.
The scent of brewed coffee and breakfast pulled him down the short hallway into the kitchen. When he walked in, Lauren stood at the stove. Her long hair remained pulled back in a haphazard braid, and she wore pink fleece pants and a cotton top. She looked comfortable and relaxed as she worked. Even though he’d stopped to admire the view, JoJo darted past him. The dog sat down beside Lauren and looked up at her.
“I bet you want to go out,” Lauren said as she put down the spatula in her hand.
“I’ll let her out.” Nate crossed the kitchen and opened the sliding glass door that led to the backyard. The dog didn’t pause. She bounded down the stairs and across the snow-covered yard. Nate w
atched the dog run through the snow then turned away from the door. “Where do you keep the shovel?”
Lauren looked up from the stove. “Don’t worry about it. A plow comes for the driveway.” She didn’t hold his gaze for long before turning her attention back to the food in the pan. “Breakfast is just about ready, anyway. Help yourself to some coffee. The mugs are in the corner cabinet.”
An argument about shoveling could wait. He was hungry, and from here it looked like she’d made French toast, his favorite breakfast food. “You need a refill?” Nate held up the coffee pot.
“I’m good for now. Have a seat.” Lauren gestured toward a bar stool with the hand holding the plate piled high with food. The hint of cinnamon apples drifted toward him, and his mouth watered. “Don’t wait for me. Start eating.”
Before sitting, Nate let the dog back in. Snow clung to her face, especially around the muzzle. “Looks like someone likes the snow.”
Lauren laughed, and the sound eased the tension in his chest. “JoJo’s a bit of snow bunny,” she said.
Nate took another sip of his coffee. For now, he’d wait and let her pick a topic of conversation. Last night he’d tried and had ended up arguing with her. He didn’t want to argue with Lauren. “This looks great. Thanks.” He picked up his fork with a small smile on his face. His plate was piled high with French toast covered with caramelized apples, just the way he liked it. He’d bet that she’d added cinnamon and nutmeg to the French toast, too. Nate took his first bite. The combination of flavors exploded in his mouth and sent his mind reeling back to all the times his mother had made French toast just like this. Living next door, Lauren would often stop over in the morning on the weekends and join them. She always complained that her mom thought the only breakfast foods in the world either came from a cereal box or fit inside a toaster.
Taking the seat next to him, Lauren started on her own breakfast, French toast minus the apples. Instead she had added a few raspberries on top. “Did you sleep okay last night?”
It was a valid question. One anyone would ask someone who had spent the night. Nate sensed by her tone that she was asking more than her words implied. “Great.” He shoveled another forkful of food into his mouth. It wasn’t a lie. With the exception of his nightmare, he had slept well. The unexpected warmth of her hand on his arm caused him to bite his tongue as he chewed. Still, the quick stab of pain didn’t affect the heat building in his body.
“If you . . . um . . . ever want to talk or anything, Nate, I’m here.” Her voice resonated with compassion and concern.
Nate bit back a curse, then worrying she’d pull her hand away, he covered it with his own, anchoring her to him. “Nothing to talk about unless you mean us.”
“I saw you last night. That was no normal dream you had.”
If she wanted to ignore the past between them for now, fine, but he wasn’t talking about his nightmares either. “Let it go, Lauren. Everyone gets nightmares. It’s no big deal.”
“Nate—” Lauren’s voice took on a pleading tone.
“Lauren, I’m fine,” he snapped. “Let’s just finish eating.” Removing his hand, he picked up his fork. Irritation made him stab his food as if it might grow legs and run away. Her insistence that he open up indicated she still cared. He should have been pleased about that. All he felt, though, was embarrassment.
After his suggestion, Lauren pulled her hand away and remained silent as she ate her own food. The longer the silence remained, the more Nate wanted to kick himself for being such an ass. She meant well and he shouldn’t have snapped at her. Time to apologize. “Lauren, I’m sorry, but I am fine.”
Lauren gave him a stiff nod in acknowledgment without even looking in his direction.
“Did Kelly have the baby last night?” Maybe a conversation about the newest member of her family would put her in a better mood.
Lauren’s hand paused with her coffee mug raised almost to her mouth. “She sent me a text message around three o’clock. She and the baby are fine. Jared almost passed out during the delivery, but he’s okay, too.”
He waited for her to add more. When she remained silent again, he prompted her with another question. “Did she have a boy or girl?”
“A little girl. They named her Beth.” Lauren smiled. “Kelly sent a picture too.” Lauren grabbed her cell phone. “Can you believe all the hair she has?”
Nate accepted the phone Lauren held out to him, glad that at least for the moment she had forgotten she was upset with him.
“I think she looks just like Kelly,” she said.
He squinted at the tiny picture on the screen. The baby did have a ton of hair. Granted, he hadn’t spent much time around babies, but he’d expected her to be nearly bald, not have enough hair to comb. As far as looking like Lauren’s sister, well, if she said so, he damn well wasn’t going to disagree. From the picture, the only hint the baby was female was the pink blanket wrapped around her. “Congratulations, Auntie.”
She beamed at him as she took the phone back.
Stabbing the last piece of French toast with his fork, Nate popped it into his mouth. With Lauren in a good mood now, perhaps he should head out and start shoveling before he managed to put his foot in his mouth again. “Thanks for breakfast. I’m going to start on the outside now.” He didn’t wait for response.
Once outside, he could breathe again. Inside the kitchen with Lauren right next to him, his body had been on sensory overload. Everything from the way she looked to the sound of her voice caused every cell in his brain to shout mine. His arms ached to hold her again the way he had the night before. To taste her lips. But while his body demanded he reach for her, his brain told him to back off. She was with someone else, and he needed to respect that. Unfortunately, it was the last thing he wanted to do.
Perhaps the worst part of it all was that he knew she cared. All the signs were there. The framed photo, the effort she put into preparing foods he liked. If she really felt nothing, she could have just as easily given him a plain grilled cheese last night and cereal this morning. Then, of course, there was her reaction to his nightmare.
Digging the shovel into the snow, he scooped up another load of the white stuff and tossed it away from the front steps. He hated that she had seen him like that. Even now in the light of day, he could picture the worry and compassion on her face. Not to mention her touch. The feel of her hand on his bare skin after so many years had sent all his blood south. And even with the remnants of his nightmare fresh in his mind, he wanted to lay her down and show her how much he loved her.
With his body still aroused, thanks to Lauren, he was half-tempted to strip down and dive into the snow. What would her neighbors say about that? If nothing else, it would give the whole town something to talk about for several days. Small towns were all like that. They loved to gossip.
Finished with the stairs, Nate started on the walkway. The snow was light and fluffy, allowing him to put little effort into the task, despite the amount that had accumulated overnight.
Over the years he’d developed a sixth sense when it came to being observed—something that came in handy in a war zone. And right now he knew he was being watched. Dropping the end of the shovel into the snow, he looked up. Lauren stood at the large bay window, a mug in her hand and her eyes glued to him. When their eyes met, she held his gaze for a few seconds, her forehead creased, and then she walked away.
Lifting up more snow, he blew out a breath. Why did this have to be so damn difficult? Why wouldn’t she let him explain why he’d made the decisions he did all those years ago? Why couldn’t she just admit she still cared and tell him what it would take to win her back? It was clear, though, she didn’t plan to do any of that. So where did that leave him? Alone and hoping that in time she’d change her mind.
When he went out and started on the steps, she remained silent. After snowstorms she always cleared the steps and walkway, she could handle that much, while a local landscaper came by and plowed the driveway.
But the landscaper usually took care of his clients closer to his house before making it to her side of town. So, if Nate insisted on clearing the snow this morning, she’d let him. If nothing else, it would get him out of here sooner. And the one thing she needed this morning, more than anything, was Nate out of her house. She’d underestimated how difficult it would be having him in her house all night and again in the morning when she got up. But then again, even if she had known, she would have asked him to stay. If she’d let him leave the night before in the thick of the storm and something had happened to him she never would have forgiven herself. As much as she might try to deny it, she cared. She cared far more than she should, considering she was dating someone else.
With her coffee mug in hand, she moved toward the window. Outside, he removed the snow as if it weighed nothing at all. When she shoveled, she always ended up sore and tired. Shoveling snow used muscles in ways that dancing did not. But Nate made it look effortless.
He’d always been strong, but thanks to her visit to his room last night, she knew firsthand just how much muscle he’d put on. Warmth spread through her limbs at the memory of him half-naked in bed. No, no, no. I’m with Kevin. Think of him instead. She squeezed her eyes closed. Instead of an image of Kevin, however, another memory of Nate formed.
She hadn’t seen his kiss coming. One minute he told her he worked for the FBI and the next she found herself wrapped in his arms, his lips against hers. In the deepest recess of her mind, she’d known it was wrong the minute he made contact. Even so, she’d let herself enjoy the moment. No one other than Nate had ever been able to kick-start her desire with a simple kiss. And once again the night before he had done just that. For the tiniest of moments she’d considered forgetting about the past for one night and experiencing the magic she’d only ever known with him. Just as quickly, though, she remembered all the reasons she could not let that happen. And when he acted as if a simple kiss could fix fifteen years of separation, her blood pressure had skyrocketed. Last night she’d told him that the only thing that could ever exist between them was friendship. But could they even have that? Every time she saw him, her heart ached. For her own sanity, it would be better if they stayed away from each other altogether. But after last night, the thought of not seeing him made her want to cry.
The Billionaire's Best Friend (The Sherbrookes of Newport) Page 7
