As for all the items she didn’t know what to do with—makeup, bronzers, hair clips, multi-step skin care products, curling irons in various shapes and sizes—she left those in their tidy little drawers.
The closet was even more overwhelming. Not the first time a wardrobe had been selected for her, but Roy had given her gowns and pant suits and dressy things she wasn’t even allowed to look at in her second captivity.
Jay’s closet was crammed with jeans, t-shirts, multi-pocket pants and big leather belts. Casual and sportive. If she had a style and preference, his shopper nailed it. The labels, though, implied price tags she would’ve never been able to afford.
She chose a faded pair of low rise jeans, a white Placebo t-shirt, the white panties he’d left on his pillow, and a matching bra. Anxious to explore, she opted to let her hair air dry and padded barefoot down the hall. Past the sitting room and through the double doors, she paused in the diamond-shaped foyer. The door to the room next to Jay’s suites opened.
Nathan stepped out, head down, phone at his ear. “We need to let this sit, Crane. He’s our only eyes right now…Yeah…Yeah, she’s good, but fuck, man, this news is going to kill her…No way. I don’t keep shit from her, but with everything going on, I haven’t had a chance to tell her about the spotter…Yeah, all right. Keep me updated.”
News? Spotter? She bit her cheek. He’d tell her when he was ready.
Shutting the door, his gaze snapped up and his lips twitched. “Morning, sweetheart.”
Something was different about him. He still had that stiff Marine posture going on, but he was lighter on his feet. His shoulders were looser, his eyes bluer, brighter.
“You’re chipper this morning.” She bumped her arm into his as they walked. “Sleep well?”
He glanced back toward the room he’d just departed and fiddled with his phone. “Uh huh.” A smile fluttered through pinched lips as if he were trying to keep it from fully emerging. And why was he looking anywhere but at her?
“I didn’t know the guest room was so close.” Had he heard her moaning from Jay’s room?
He stopped and dropped his phone into his breast pocket. Staring at the wood floor, he rubbed his jaw and propped his hands on his hips. Uh-oh. His defensive stance.
He shifted his weight. “That isn’t a guest room.”
A laugh burst out of her. “You move fast, playboy.” She punched him in the shoulder.
“I’d take offense to that if I hadn’t heard you screaming at the wee hours of the morning.”
Jesus. She shouldn’t have been embarrassed, considering he’d seen and heard her at her absolute worst, but she couldn’t stop her cheeks from burning. “You heard?”
He grinned. “No, and thank God for that.”
“Fucker.” She aimed to punch him again, but he was expecting it that time and bounced out of the way.
She crossed her arms over her chest. “That’s a terrible thing to joke about…considering.”
A swell of sympathy curved his eyebrow and rounded his eyes. Thankfully, it wasn’t pity, but he’d never been one to pity her.
He gripped her shoulders and bent his knees to meet her eyes. “If we tiptoe around our thoughts, Roy wins.”
A sigh pushed past her lips. “You’re right.” The easiness between them was owed to their openness with one another. “You’re always right.”
It was so good to see his charming smile instead of the usual vigilance that tightened his expression and twisted her gut. “Look at us. We could’ve had our own rooms, slept diagonal in our beds and hogged the covers. Since we didn’t take advantage of that, does it make us dependent creatures?”
His eyes softened. “No, it makes us lonely.”
They stared at one another for a long silent moment. She knew he didn’t mean it as a dig against her as a companion. He referred to the isolation that came with the lack of intimacy. She’d felt it, too, and her thoughts skipped through their years together. The constant moving. The dead ends with Roy. The persistent fear. All the sacrifices Nathan made to keep her safe.
She lifted on tiptoes and wrapped her arms around him. Apologies and gratitude weren’t necessary. A place in her life was all he wanted from her. She would never be able to express to him what that meant.
He returned her embrace, his thumb stroking the spine of her back.
“Relaxed is a good look on you.” She leaned back. “As are the new threads.” Black button-up, crisp black pants, black leather shoes. His blond hair was longish but neatly combed away from his forehead. His familiar features, especially the grin he was donning, brought to mind another handsome face. One so like his her chest squeezed every time she looked at him. She shoved that away and lowered her voice. “Will there be any flak from fraternizing with the staff?”