Freedom: A Captivating and consuming contemporary romance (Freedom series Book 1)

by J Grayland

  “Maybe that's the problem I mean look, she's been dragged from a strange country to another strange country with a strange guy in his house, under some unseen threat, that’s got to freak you out, man.” I nodded, he was right.

  “So what do you suggest?” I ask him.

  “Well, you could try something normal like bringing her over for dinner. I’m pretty sure Lynda would love to meet her, and she might relax more at the beach I have heard the Aussies love their beaches. Come stay over for the weekend.”

  “I'm glad you feel safe enough making plans without talking to your wife first.” I laughed.

  “Lynda will love it.” He swats his hand in the air.

  “Yeah, okay that sounds good thanks, Paxton”.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Casey

  I lay on the bed for what seemed like hours trying to process what had just happened. Once again I had freaked out on Nate, which was really starting to piss me off because I’d had this shit under control for years. Well, I thought I did, I mean I had managed to build a huge wall around myself for protection but for some reason when Nate entered my space that seemed to all go out the window and it was confusing as hell. He made me feel something that was new to me, stirred emotions that I didn't think I would ever be capable of, emotions that I had been alienated from for so many years now, and it was seriously messing with my head. Squeezing my eyes closed, I see Nate’s face close to mine, his breath whispers warm across my face, his hard body pinning me to the hard wall, his strong hands gripping my wrists, the strength and heat of his body so close....and then the picture changes and the face so close to mine is no longer Nate’s but one of pure evil and that feeling of warm breath has changed to a hot alcohol- ridden smell, and that warm hard body pinning me to the wall is now claustrophobic, dominating and painful. I can feel the adrenalin starting to course through my body, quickly I open my eyes, take a deep breath and will the image away as quickly as it came.

  My thoughts were turning into a huge jumbled mess. Had I spent so long protecting myself and ostracizing myself from feelings, that I didn't recognize any show of emotions from others anymore? Or did he just want a quick easy lay? I’m pretty sure he wouldn’t ever be short of willing bed partners, so why did he kiss me with such passion that my legs almost gave way and sent tingles shooting through every inch of my body? Logically I know in my head that he needs to ask me questions if he is going to put an end to all this madness that is happening, but every time he asks me anything it feels so intimate and personal and I just don't know how to do personal with anyone but Flynn. He is the only one who knows everything, my past, my present, my anxieties, my fears....my insecurities. Nate had taken his job further than was ever expected of him he had brought me to his own home, to protect me, so somehow I needed to find a way to let my barriers down, just a little and try to trust again. I need to get “ me” back right now “ Fuck you Max” I whisper into the dark room. “Fuck you”.

  By the time I woke in the morning the Penthouse was empty. I'm guessing that Nate had gone into his office I had a quick shower and pulled on a pair of shorts and a tank top and made myself some breakfast. After washing the dishes and tidying up the very tidy Penthouse, I logged onto the computer and typed out an email to Flynn writing down what was happening here and how I was feeling and, as usual asking for his advice. I thought it was much better to put it all in an email and he would read it when he had time I hated using him as my crutch and imposing on his life, but if I said that to him he would probably skin me alive. He was my “go to” guy, he also gave great advice, he would definitely make someone a great husband one day. Now that sounded weird my BFF Flynn a husband.!

  Going back into the kitchen I took a look in the cupboards and a scan of the refrigerator and made plans to cook dinner for Nate, kind of like a peace offering for my erratic behavior last night. He probably thinks I'm a lunatic or something I needed to try harder to communicate with the poor guy, so I would start with his stomach.

  I was just adding the creamy chicken garlic sauce to the pasta when I heard the elevator come to a stop and the doors slide open. Nate walked in, placing his phone and keys on the coffee table, then came to stand at the kitchen island where I was placing the hot pasta into two bowls. Placing both hands on the marble top, he looked at me with a raised brow. “You cooked?”

  “Don't sound too shocked, I can cook?” I said smiling at him.

  “Smells great.” He said after inhaling the aroma coming from the pasta. I pushed a full bowl towards him and handed him a fork.

  “Thanks, I'm starving,” he pulled out a stool, sat and shoved a forkful of pasta into his mouth then looked at me. “Mmm.. this is really good.”

  “Thank you” I smiled, perching myself on a stool next to him and digging into my own bowl. Giving him a quick glance now and then, I noticed that he was wearing a pair of jeans that clung to every taut muscle in his thighs and a dark button down dress shirt with the sleeves folded halfway up his forearms, and every time he moved his arm a tiny glimpse of ink would peek out. There was no doubt about it, he was an incredible looking man. After the last bit of pasta went into his mouth he took his and my bowls to the sink and pulled a bottle of wine from the rack and two glasses. I watched as he poured us a drink, then handed me a glass. “You know you’re a guest right? I don't expect you to cook for me” he said with a slight grin.

  “I know, it was more of an apology meal.”

  “Apology? What for?”

  “Last night,” I said softly.

  “Hey” he started, but I stopped him by holding up a hand, “No really, I haven't been the best house guest so far and I know you’re only trying to help. I just...” I shake my head looking for the words to explain, but nothing comes out, he motions for us to sit on the couch.

  Placing his glass on the coffee table and leaning back into the leather he said “Look I understand the situation is difficult, and I admit I'm not the easiest person to get along with. I'm used to taking charge and bulldozing ahead, I don't do delicate and I don't tiptoe around a problem, but you...you have me perplexed.”

  “Oh, really? why is that?”

  With a slight shake of his head, he continues. “Well, to start with, I don't think I have ever come across someone like you. On the outside, you’re opinionated, strong, independent and very closed, but on the inside I see something…more”

  “Okay,” I say slowly “And what do you see Mr. King?”

  He sits forward leaning his arms on his thighs and pauses for a moment then his eyes connect with mine. “On the inside, I see someone who is in a lot of pain, someone who is used to hiding and protecting herself so well that she now can't find herself anymore. She's lost and the question here is does she want to be found?”

  Looking down into my glass of wine, I take a sip then look back at him. “We all have baggage, Nate.”

  “Then maybe you need someone to help you carry that baggage?” he says. Searching his eyes, I see so much compassion in them and I try so hard to put strength into my words, but all that comes out is a weakness as almost in a whisper, I say “Some things are just meant to stay lost.” Looking from my glass back to him, his eyes now show confusion as they search mine for a moment, then he changes the course of the conversation completely.

  Leaning back again he asks “Tell me about you, I mean from as far back as you want to go.” Placing my glass on the coffee table, I pulled my legs up, tucking them under me, and try to think where to start.

  “Hmm....well I was born to parents who didn't plan on having any kids in their life. They were both lawyers and happy with just each other, then I guess nature stepped in and my mother found herself pregnant. Abortion wasn't an option for them because of their religious beliefs and so I was born. They fed and clothed me and put a roof over my head but that was it. As long as I stayed out of their way and didn’t interfere in their lives they were happy. When new neighbors moved in next door to us they were so different to my own
family. They had two kids, a girl a few years younger than me, Sophie, and a boy my age.”

  “Flynn?” Nate asks.

  “Yes, we became inseparable. He became my protector, my confidante, my brother in all ways, and anything other than that was just unthinkable between us. He shared his happy family with me, he gave me normally I guess.” I said wistfully.

  “He sounds like a good person,” Nate said.

  “He is.” Taking a deep breath I continued. “Then, when I was around eighteen, my parents went out to dinner one night and when they were returning their car skidded off the road into a ditch.... they were both killed instantly.”

  “Jesus Doc.” He says in a low whisper.

  Shaking my head at his shocked tone, I said “it's ok, they went together so at least at the end they would have been happy. So after the house was sold and their debts paid, I had enough to put myself through medical school and I lived at Flynn’s family home until my residency was done. I got a job at the local hospital in surgical and Flynn went on to study law and we became housemates.”

  “And IMA comes in....” he drags out the words slowly.

  Thinking for a moment while subconsciously chewing on my bottom lip, which seems to draw Nate’s eyes directly to my mouth, I continued. “You mean Steve? I don't even know him that well, just someone at work but we have a social network page that everyone at work is a member of, it's kind of like an information page for the staff - you know, to swap ideas and information, swap stories and stuff like that. Then this one day in the cafeteria at work he started talking about IMA. How it had been a great experience and how much he thought I might get something out of it. He also gave me a card for IMA and a few days later I gave them a call. From there the process was pretty quick,” I said with a shrug off my shoulders.

  “So why IMA?” he asked curiously.

  “Honestly? A change, a challenge, the experience.”

  He chuckled, “Well you definitely got an experience alright.”

  “Well, that’s not really the kind of experience I was looking for.”

  “So what were you looking for Doc?” he asked with a tilt of his chin.

  Draining the last inch of wine in my glass, then staring into its emptiness, I said, “I'm not exactly sure.... something though.” Standing and picking up both glasses I took them into the kitchen and slipped them into the dishwasher, turning to see Nate now watching my every move as I go back to sit next to him. “So, I showed you mine, now it's your turn.”

  He gave me a puzzled look, “Excuse me?”

  “Well I've given you my brief life history so what about you?”

  Shaking his head, his eyes still on mine he says “I don't remember saying anything about sharing life stories Doc.”

  “Come on, fair's fair,” I said, and he lets out a deep sigh.

  “There’s not much to tell I was born and raised in Portland, My dad was a city cop that ended up starting his own security business. He started small and over the years built it up to provide security on a larger scale for most of the major banks and many other assorted businesses until he branched out into international security which provides personal security for people who need it.”

  “Like a bodyguard?” I ask.

  “Something like that mostly dignitaries, politicians, and the occasional celebrity.”

  “You sound very busy.”

  “We do well and It pays to have a good solid reputation.” He says with pride.

  “So have you and your brother always been in the family business?”

  “Not always, Paxton had always worked with my father… until he suffered a heart attack 6 years ago.” He says rubbing his hand over his chin.

  “Oh Nate, I’m so sorry.” He gave me a nod of his head but the glimpse of pain that shot through his eyes told me how much he missed his father. “And you’re Mother?” I continued cautiously.

  I watched as he rubbed the palms of his hands over his jeans-clad thighs uncomfortably then said “Mom retired to Hawaii a few years after Pop passed but she never recovered from losing him… one night she just went to bed and never woke up.” I put my hand over my mouth with a gasp. “The autopsy said that her heart just stopped in her sleep, but we know she really died of a broken heart.”

  “Wow Nate, I’m speechless,”I say as he leans back into the couch.

  “So you see Doc, we do have something in common after all.” All I could do was nod, and he continued, “So Paxton had been running the family business on his own for some time but as it was growing big fast, I left the military and joined him.”

  “So, you were in the army?” I asked.

  “Marines, for a good fifteen years, joined up at 20.”

  “Then I’m guessing that would make you 35?”

  “36.” he corrects.

  “Wow, that's a lot of time in the service.”

  Turning away from me, I heard him say “Yeah, too damn long.”

  “And…I'm guessing by that answer you’re carrying some baggage of your own then,” I said softly.

  He turned back to look at me a resigned look in his eyes. “Don't know anyone who came back from a tour who doesn't have a shit load of baggage weighing them down, unfortunately, it's part of the parcel.” I could see by the expression on his face that this was not a subject he wanted to continue to discuss, so I let it go, and that left a very uncomfortable pause in the air between us. Looking at his profile, I watched as the muscle in his jaw started to twitch.

  I placed my hand on his thigh. “Hey, I'm sorry.”

  He ran a hand through his hair and stood up. “I have some work to do in my office, but thanks for dinner,” he said, and walked in the direction of his office, leaving me sitting there realizing that I had just seen a piece of Nate that I don't think he showed anyone too often.

  After cleaning up the kitchen, I went up and took a shower before slipping into bed and flipping my iPod to the soothing tones of Enigma that quickly lulled me into a deep sleep where for the first time in a while, the only image that entered my mind was that of Nathanial King’s handsome face.

  Waking in the morning I glided my hand over the sheet searching for my iPod that always becomes lost somewhere amongst the bedding. Finding it, I brought it to my sleepy eyes and looked at the time, it was just after 9 am, so I knew it was safe to go down to the kitchen and grab a cup of coffee in just my tank top and panties. Nate was always gone way before eight, so I knew once again I would be on my own for the day, but as I got closer to the kitchen I could hear movement. Stopping halfway down the stairs, I glanced down and saw a half-naked Nate filling up the coffee machine. He looked like he had just gotten out of the shower, his black hair was messy and wet and beads of water still ran down his muscled back, all the way down until they disappeared into the towel wrapped around his tapered waist. My eyes wandered over the planes of his muscular back, his skin looked tanned and the huge tattoo that spanned over his back was breathtaking it looked like a man in a kneeling position, with his head cradled in both of his hands, with a pair of majestic wings made from intricate feathers opened behind him. It was a spectacular piece of work that must have taken hours in the chair.

  The naked parts of skin that I could see were flawless, apart from the ink on his shoulder that looked like a collection of skulls. When he turned to get some water from the sink my eyes got a peek of the rest of him, the muscles of his shoulders and arms and chest all defined perfectly like he had been sculptured from a piece of marble. He had some more ink down the side of his chest which looked like more words, these ones lined up in a row. Another tattoo took up most of his other shoulder and the top of one arm. It looked like some kind of bold tribal pattern. He had various other small tattoos on his forearms but I couldn't see from this distance what they were. Drifting down the front of his body, I could see the muscles of his abdomen twitching with every movement. A thin line of dark hair slowly trailed down and disappeared under the towel. He was definitely not hard on the eyes.
With the thought of where that trail of dark hair on his abdomen lead to, I felt my heart rate beat a little faster than usual, "Go back to your room, he hasn't seen you yet, you pervert" I told myself, but before I could turn, he looked up to where I was standing. “Morning, want some coffee?”

  “Err... sure” I murmured as I slowly walked down the stairs and onto a stool at the kitchen island. Pouring out two mugs of the steaming brew he slid one towards me, as well as a carton of milk. “Thanks,” I said adding the milk to the mug of coffee and taking a sip. After a few minutes of silence between us, he went to the refrigerator and pulled out a carton of eggs and some butter then a bowl and whisk from one of the cupboards. Cracking the eggs into the bowl, he started to beat them. “Breakfast?” he gestured towards the bowl “Sure.” “Just scrambled eggs though. I'm no chef in the kitchen.” He grinned at me.

  “Do you want me to do that while you get ready for work?” I nodded to where he was whisking the eggs.

  “Nope, no work today, it's Saturday and I have plans.”

  “Oh.”

  “For us” he motioned with his hand from him to me.

  “We do?”

  “Yes, we're taking a trip down to Paxton's.”

  “Your brother’s home?” I asked surprised at his change of mood from last night. “Yep, he and his wife Lynda have a place right on the beach and he invited us down there, so you will need to pack an overnight bag.” He poured the beaten eggs into a pan and started to stir them, then turned to look at me, “and I'm guessing you don't have anything to swim in but I am sure Lynda will have a spare suit that you can use.”

  “I...I don't mind staying here while you go visit your family,” I stammered out. “Not going to happen Doc, besides he invited us both, you'll enjoy it and I am sure Lynda will enjoy some female company as well.”

  He served the eggs onto two plates, added a piece of toast and pushed it in front of me with a fork. “Eat, we have a two-hour drive in front of us.”

  “Two hours?” I asked.

  “Yep, they’re down at Rockaway Beach.” None the wiser to the destination he was talking about, I just scooped some eggs into my mouth and gave him a small smile.