“I don’t want to make things hard for us here,” I find myself muttering.
“Things are already hard for us here. We’ve been struggling for eight months to pretend that there’s nothing between us, and we both know it’s a lie.” He pulls away from me and shoves his hands back in his pockets, and I know he’s giving me some space, letting me decide.
I shake my head and look down at my shoes, planting my hands on my hips.
“Unless you aren’t interested in me, and if that’s the case, I sincerely apologize.”
I whip my head up at the chill in his voice and find his eyes narrowed on my face, searching me. This is it, he’s given me an out.
Tell him you’re not interested. Walk away, Jules.
But I can’t. I just… can’t. And it fucking pisses me off that I’m feeling vulnerable and confused.
“I don’t know what to do,” I whisper and close my eyes.
“Don’t over think it,” he whispers back. Natalie is right, whispering is sexy as hell. “Let’s just spend a few days getting to know each other better. If we decide there’s no chemistry, fine, we’ll get back to business as usual, no hard feelings.” He reaches out and runs his knuckles down my cheek again and his eyes warm, and I know I’m sunk. “I’d like to spend a few days with you, away from here.”
I turn away from him and walk to his windows, looking out at the twinkling lights of the city. I want this. Two days with Nate, not worrying about saying or doing or looking at him in an inappropriate way, just being myself. Maybe we’ll hate each other by morning.
I doubt that.
I take a deep breath and turn around. He’s standing there, his hands still in his pockets, looking sexy as sin in that suit, his face completely sober, his eyes searching mine, and I know I can’t resist what he’s offering.
“I’ll meet you at your place in two hours.”
A smile tickles his lips. “I can pick you up.”
“No, I’d rather have my own car.” He frowns and I explain further. “If you hate me by morning, I don’t want to be dependent on you for a ride home.”
“I’m not going to hate you, Julianne, but if that’s the way you want it, fine. I have one condition.”
I raise my eyebrows. “What’s that?”
“You will not run out on me this time. If you decide you want to leave it will be after you’ve discussed it with me first so I don’t wake up to any surprises.”
“Okay,” I murmur. “Did I wound your fragile ego that badly?” I ask sarcastically.
“No, you hurt my feelings, and that doesn’t happen often. I’d rather not relive it.”
Oh.
Before I can respond he walks to his desk and gathers his keys, wallet and the left overs, locks up his desk and grabs a briefcase. “Let’s go.”
***
Yoga pants, tank, Nikes. Extra underwear, bras, jeans, t-shirts. Jesus, Jules, you’ll only be gone for 48 hours, and that’s if you’re not completely sick of each other by tomorrow. I survey my small suitcase, and then grab my new strapless grey dress with pink stilettos, handbag and accessories. Maybe we’ll go out.
I throw in some toiletries, jewelry, and makeup. Then I shove my iPad into the Louis Vuitton handbag that my obsessively generous brother-in-law got for me and load everything into my little red car.
Good Lord, it looks like I’m moving in. Aren’t I? For the weekend, anyway.
Before I can chicken out I lock up the house and drive back into the city to Nate’s apartment building in downtown Seattle. He texted me the address, but I remember the way. How could I forget?
I park underground in the extra space he owns, grab my small grey suitcase and purse and head for the elevator.
Dear God, I’m going to throw up.
I watch the numbers above the door climb as the elevator ascends to the thirtieth floor, and as each floor passes anticipation and nervousness grip my chest. I’m not convinced that this is a good idea. Yet here I am.
I take a deep breath and ring Nate’s doorbell. He answers quickly, opening the door wide and standing back to let me in. He’s changed into soft faded blue jeans and a long-sleeved white t-shirt, his hair loose and pushed back from his face, just screaming for my fingers to be buried in it, and I’m glad that I had the foresight to change into blue jeans and a simple black t-shirt myself.
“I was afraid you’d change your mind,” he murmurs, and smiles gently at me, his gray eyes warm.
“No need to worry, here I am.” He takes the handle to my suitcase and sets it aside, closing the door, and then pulls me into him, his arms wrapped around my shoulders. I brace my hands on his lean, jean-clad hips and we just stand here, looking at each other.
“Thank you,” he murmurs.
“For what?”
“Agreeing to spend the weekend with me.” He leans down and kisses my forehead gently and I frown. This is a new side to Nate. I like it. How many more sides to him will I meet this weekend?
“Well, I’ve always found you to be pretty persuasive.” I smile up at him and I see the humor in his eyes.
“I’m happy to hear that.” He steps back and links my fingers with his. “Let’s get you settled.”
Still holding my hand, he wheels my suitcase behind us and leads me through his condo. It’s really spectacular. The floors are all a honey-colored hardwood. The front door opens up into a great room with tall ceilings and large windows with a great view of Seattle and the Sound. The furniture is plush and inviting, in brown and red tones. The kitchen is to die for, and I can’t wait to get in there and cook.
Cooking is a passion of mine.
This kitchen gives me a girl hard-on. Seriously.
Six-burner natural gas stove, with a grill, double oven and warming drawer, two sinks, lots of light colored granite counter space, and a huge refrigerator.
“Can I cook for you this weekend?” I ask as we pass by the kitchen.
“You cook?” he asks, looking back at me with surprise.
“I love to cook.” I smile. “Do you?”
“I do too. Perhaps we can cook together?”