Out of Alignment (Hearts & Horsepower #5)

by A. K. Evans

  In the end, we’d gotten the General Tso’s chicken, the shrimp lo mein, and the kung pao chicken. I had a little of everything and was pleasantly surprised at how much I enjoyed it.

  A few minutes after we’d gotten our Lego building underway, I found myself growing curious about something, so I asked, “Is there a reason you brought us here?”

  “What do you mean?” Nash replied.

  I shrugged as I picked up a couple of the bricks I needed and pressed them together. “Well, I mean, you know where I live. I was just wondering if we’d ever go to your place. I’d like to see where you live,” I explained.

  “So, next time we can go to my house,” he said. “I came here because my house is currently under a bit of construction, but I have no problem with taking you there.”

  “When is the next time?” I questioned him.

  Nash reached for a few Lego pieces, pressed them together, and answered, “If it were up to me, I’d like to see you more often than I did over the last week. I know you’ve got your schedule you’re trying to juggle, so it’s really up to you. I am working some later nights right now since we’re still at the beginning of the racing season. But I’m willing to do what I’ve got to do to get more time with you.”

  He wanted more time with me. My heart squeezed.

  As I continued to assemble the ski resort’s ski patrol building, I shared, “Avery called me earlier in the week after you passed along my phone number to her. I made plans for a girls’ night next Friday. We’re going to be going to Elise’s house.”

  “So, how about you come to me when you’re done with the girls?” Nash suggested.

  “Really?” I asked. “It might be late.”

  “I’m not a little kid, Parker,” he remarked. “After I get home from work on Friday, I’ll probably spend some time working on the house. You get there when you get there. I’ll be up.”

  I stopped what I was doing, set the building down, and stared at Nash. He was working diligently on assembling the truck with the snowplow attached. We’d decided it only fitted that Nash worked on the vehicles, including the truck, a snowmobile, and a helicopter.

  Nash noticed I was staring, stopped what he was doing, and asked, “What’s wrong?”

  I shook my head. “Nothing. I just wanted to look at you.”

  His features softened as he shot me a sweet smile. He held my attention for a few seconds before focusing back on the truck.

  It still amazed me just how nonchalant he was about everything. I mean, we were sitting here building Lego sets. We’d gone to the racetrack. He’d taken me ax throwing. Nothing about Nash was uptight.

  There didn’t seem to be anything that kept him frustrated, upset, or angry. And while we weren’t discussing anything that should have made him feel that way, his response to me wanting to see where he lived was solved just as quickly as if I’d snapped my fingers.

  In the rare cases that I’d seen him upset, that state of mind didn’t ever last very long. It was like the man just couldn’t be bothered with petty things, not that I thought what we were building between us was anything petty.

  “Are you always this carefree?” I blurted.

  “What?” he asked.

  “You don’t seem to let much bother you,” I noted.

  Something washed over him. I couldn’t quite read it because as quickly as I’d seen it, it was gone.

  “What’s the point?” he countered. “Life is what it is. We can either spend the time we have being happy, or we can spend it being miserable. There’s only one shot at this, so I figure it’s best to make the most of it. I won’t be able to do that if I’m spending my time being worried about things I can’t control or change.”

  “But what about the things you can control?” I wondered. “What if, for example, you experienced what I did that day we met and had to go the laundromat because your washing machine broke only to find out that the dryer at the laundromat was going to hold your clothing hostage? Wouldn’t you be upset with yourself for not just purchasing a new washing machine right off the bat?”

  Nash let out a laugh and asked, “And do I have zero mechanical ability in this scenario you’ve just presented? Because if I am who I am now, the likelihood is that I would have just fixed my washing machine.”

  “You have no mechanical ability,” I told him.

  Nash thought for a moment and said, “I’d likely try to see if my current washing machine could be fixed by calling to have someone come and look at it. If it were completely out of commission, I would have probably bought a new one. But on the off chance that I needed to get laundry done before that could happen, I’d go to the laundromat. If the dryer door refused to open, I’d probably leave the clothing there.”

  Setting the ski patrol building down again, I scoffed, “You wouldn’t just leave your clothes there.”

  “I would,” he insisted. “Some pants, T-shirts, socks, and underwear are not worth losing any sleep over.”

  “So you think I’m crazy,” I declared. I didn’t need to pose it as a question because it was apparent that he thought I was.

  Shaking his head, he pointed out, “I did not say that.”

  “You implied it,” I began. “Besides, it’s not like I don’t already know that I can get a little crazy sometimes when everything in my life feels like it’s spinning out of control.”

  Nash didn’t respond. He continued working on the 4x4 truck, which was nearly completed. Taking a cue from him, I tried to ignore that we were having a conversation that he had abruptly ended with his lack of response and focused on the ski patrol building.

  The silence persisted as we both continued to press the bricks together, and my attempts to remain unaffected were waning.

  Just when I thought I couldn’t take it any longer, Nash’s deep voice said, “You’re not crazy for doing what you’ve got to do to cope with whatever is bothering you.”

  I was staring at him once again, but this time, my lips had parted. “Do you really mean that?” I wondered.

  “Yes, Parker. I really mean that,” he answered. “Maybe I was wrong for teasing you about it after the fact. I was never doing that to make you feel bad. It was just that I could see how much it was upsetting you after the fact to know how things went down that day. I was trying to lighten the mood.”

  I had to wonder if Nash really meant that or if he was merely trying to make me feel better about all of it. Maybe it was a combination of both. Either way, it didn’t matter.

  Nash had his reaction back then to my response over how my whole week had gone, and the fact remained that he was still here. My brand of crazy hadn’t pushed him away. Not yet, anyway.

  When I really took a minute to let it all boil down, the truth was that Nash and I were opposites. I would never have thought I could be in a relationship with someone who seemed so unaffected by so many things, but somehow, it worked with him. I didn’t know if that was because we were balancing each other out or if it was because I secretly wanted to be just as carefree as he was. Unfortunately, too many life experiences had prevented me from being able to let go.

  For the next few minutes, we worked on our Lego set in comfortable silence.

  But then Nash moved quickly as he stood and said, “Ow. Ow, ow, ow.”

  “What’s wrong?” I asked, feeling alarmed.

  “I’ve got to stretch,” he answered, his pain evident in the tortured tone of his voice.

  I quickly got up from my seat and moved toward Nash, who was now on the floor in the living room stretching. It took me only a matter of a few seconds to figure out what was happening.

  “It’s your psoas, isn’t it?” I asked.

  “Yeah.”

  I crouched down beside him and put my hands on him, hoping to offer him some comfort. “Keep breathing,” I encouraged him.

  He did as I instructed until he finally started to relax. “Ugh. That’s the worst,” he said as he started to come out of his stretch.

  “
Does it happen often?” I questioned him.

  He shook his head. “I’ve been pretty good about continuing the work with the lacrosse ball, but last night was a late night at the track, and I was up early today to get to the shop. I didn’t have a chance to do it.”

  “Lay on your back,” I ordered.

  “What?”

  “I’ll do it for you,” I told him.

  Nash didn’t hesitate to get on his back. Once he was there, my hands went to the fly of his jeans.

  “What are you doing?” he asked me.

  My eyes left his crotch and moved toward his face. “I’m just making it easier to help treat this for you,” I assured him. “The jeans are thick, and I’m probably not nearly as effective as I could be without so much material in the way.”

  It was the truth, but there was no missing the devious look in Nash’s eyes and the slight twitch of his lips.

  He relaxed and lifted his hips once I started to pull his jeans down his legs. I immediately started putting pressure on the muscle right at the top of his leg. I was trying to be professional and keep my eyes focused on where I was working, but it wasn’t exactly easy.

  Nash had a beautiful body. And he was now on my floor in a T-shirt and a pair of boxer briefs. My hands were mere inches away from his penis, which I couldn’t help but notice was not even remotely affected by the pain he’d just been in.

  I’d only been at work on him for a few seconds when I felt the gentle caress of his finger over the curve of my breast.

  Shifting my eyes away from his groin and to his face, I questioned him, “What are you doing?”

  “Distracting myself from the pain,” he shared.

  I cocked an eyebrow.

  “Funny that you didn’t do that when you first had this problem and told me about it in the office,” I reminded him.

  “Maybe not,” he countered as he continued to stroke his finger back and forth. “But that doesn’t mean I didn’t want to do this and a whole lot more. Every time you touched me, even on my back, I wanted more.”

  I smiled and shook my head. “I wish you would have done something about it sooner,” I said.

  Nash smiled back at me, but he didn’t respond. I finally released the pressure on his psoas and asked, “How does that feel?”

  “Better.”

  Nash still hadn’t stopped touching me. In fact, he’d taken things up a notch because he was no longer just stroking his finger back and forth. Nash was now offering gentle squeezes.

  Not liking that he was the only one who was getting the chance to have some fun, I slid my hand from the crease where his leg met his hip toward his penis. Gripping it firmly, I began to slowly stroke him through his underwear.

  A deep groan escaped him.

  “You know,” I started as I continued to stroke. “We still have to finish building our ski resort. And we didn’t even open the other set yet.”

  “We’ve got time,” he assured me.

  I licked my lips. Nash’s eyes homed in on them.

  It was time to kick things up a notch.

  Wearing my own little devious grin, I curled my fingers around the waistband of his underwear. I tugged them down and wasn’t surprised to see Nash was more than ready for me.

  Gripping him firmly at the root of his cock, I gave him one slow stroke.

  His restraint was waning. I loved it, and I wanted more.

  Not wanting to waste another minute, I bent at my waist and lowered my mouth to him. I parted my lips and touched my tongue to the base of the head of his penis. His gentle touch at my breast turned to a firm grasp. His fingers kneaded my flesh as I continued to tease him by swirling my tongue all around the head several times before I licked over and over in the same spot at the base of the head.

  “Parker,” he groaned.

  I smiled against the tip and kissed it before sliding my mouth over as much of his length as I could take.

  Nash’s hand left my breast and went to my ass. He squeezed there while I worked my mouth up and down his manhood.

  He gave me some time to play but eventually ordered, “Pants off, baby.”

  I didn’t want to stop; however, I knew Nash would not disappoint me if I took off my pants. So, I freed him from my mouth and made quick work of taking off my pants and underwear.

  “Top off, too,” he demanded as I watched him lift his own shirt over his head.

  I whipped my shirt off and tossed it aside before reaching behind my back to unhook my bra. Once I was completely naked, Nash reached out for me and demanded, “Come and sit so I can eat you.”

  Swinging one leg over him, I straddled his face and let him eat. My fingernails drove into his hair as he licked, sucked, and thrust his tongue inside me. His hands were gripping my ass firmly, and when he looked up at me, I could see the burning hot desire in his eyes.

  It didn’t take him long to work me up, and before I knew it, he had flipped me to my back, rolled on a condom, and was driving in deep.

  “Yes,” I cried out.

  Whatever pain Nash had been experiencing before that put him on the floor must not have been there any longer. Or, at the very least, it was no longer bad enough that he couldn’t maneuver his body with the utmost precision and excellence.

  “So wet,” he groaned. “So beautiful.”

  My legs were bent at the knees, hiked up high, my thighs pressed tight to his sides.

  “Harder, babe,” I begged. “Please.”

  Nash gave it to me harder.

  He did not slow down. He did not relent. He continued to thrust hard and purposefully, and I couldn’t get enough.

  “I’m going to come,” I warned him when I felt myself back on the verge of an orgasm.

  “Wait for me, Parker,” he demanded.

  “I can’t.”

  “Wait for me.”

  “Hurry,” I pleaded.

  Nash’s hips moved faster.

  “Babe, I can’t wait,” I alerted him.

  Barely a full thrust later, he ordered, “Come with me, baby.”

  At his command, I shattered. My entire body trembled and shook with the force of it, and it was all I could do to hold on to him. Nash’s body completely covered mine, and I loved feeling the weight of his solid frame over me. It made me feel safe and protected.

  But after some time had passed, Nash shifted his body off of mine and lifted me from the floor. Then he carried me upstairs, where we cleaned up and climbed into bed.

  Not long after we were curled up with one another, I found myself itching to tell him something. So in the dark room, with his naked body wrapped protectively around mine, his front to my back, I called, “Nash?”

  “Yeah, sunshine?”

  “I always have fun when I’m with you,” I shared.

  His arm that was draped over my side squeezed me, and he replied, “It’s the same for me with you.”

  That made me feel good. I had already had a feeling that was the case, but it still was nice to hear him say it.

  “When I’m not with you, I don’t have nearly as much fun,” I went on. “And I find that I miss feeling the way I feel when I’m with you.”

  I had a feeling Nash knew I wasn’t finished because he didn’t respond when I took a moment to collect my thoughts. Eventually, I finished, “I really want to be more carefree all the time, but I’ve got some other stuff going on in my head that’s making it difficult.”

  Nash’s hand, which was curled possessively around my breast, tightened just before he returned, “I kind of already figured that out. And I do not doubt that if you want to let go of whatever is messing with your head, you’ll do it. If you need me to help you do that, I’m here for you, baby.”

  The mere thought of telling Nash about everything I’d been through wasn’t a pleasant one. If I allowed myself even to consider the possibility, I would have been in for a restless night. Instead, and considering he didn’t seem to be pressuring me at all for it, I responded, “Thank you, Nash. That means
everything to me.”

  He responded by pressing a sweet kiss to my bare shoulder. Then he whispered, “Good night, Parker.”

  “Good night, Nash.”

  “Your home is beautiful, Elise.”

  One week after my Lego building and Chinese food date with Nash, it was Friday night, and I had just arrived at Elise’s home for girls’ night in with her, Kendall, Avery, and Scarlet. Kendall and Avery hadn’t yet arrived, and I’d been marveling since I had pulled into the driveway at Elise’s place.

  “Thank you so much,” she replied. “It used to feel so big and empty, but now that I’ve got Kieran spending the nights with me, it’s not so bad.”

  “I can imagine,” I agreed, realizing my house wasn’t nearly as large as Elise’s, and mine felt big and empty. “If you don’t mind me asking, what do you do?”

  Elise let out a laugh and was about to answer when the doorbell rang.

  “Oh, that’s probably Kendall and Avery,” she announced. “I’ll be right back.”

  “Sure,” I replied.

  After she walked out of the kitchen to answer the door, I turned my attention to Scarlet. Before I could even say a word, she shared, “Elise’s last name is Flynn. She’s the founder and CEO of Flynn Beauty.”

  I stared at Scarlet a moment as the information she’d just shared sunk in. The minute it did, I felt like a complete fool. I knew I had recognized Elise from somewhere.

  “I’m an idiot,” I mumbled as I slapped my palm to my forehead.

  Scarlet let out a laugh. “You’re not an idiot,” she insisted. “When Kendall and Avery met her, they had similar reactions.”

  “What reaction did we have?” Avery wondered as she wandered into the kitchen with Kendall and Elise.

  “I just told Parker about Elise and Flynn Beauty,” Scarlet explained. “She feels foolish for not making the connection.”

  “Oh, don’t feel bad about that,” Elise urged.

  “But your products are all that I use,” I explained. “I should have recognized you.”

  Elise smiled at me, but it was Kendall who spoke. “If you think that’s bad, I’ll tell you that I did the same thing. And Avery didn’t even know that Flynn Beauty existed. Really, Parker, you don’t have to feel bad about it.”