As we sat and made small talk, I gathered that Greyson was just as damaged as Nolan, just as adept at hiding his true self. He stiffened whenever Nolan asked him about his personal life, answering only questions about their shared work or the game, before Nolan gave up entirely and focused on his drink. But Greyson was a riddle for another woman to solve.
Eventually the room fell silent as the game absorbed us, and I breathed a little sigh of relief. I drained half my beer and patted Sutton’s head as it rested near my thigh.
“You know,” Greyson remarked suddenly, “a woman who can make brisket this good . . . I think she’s a keeper.” He helped himself to another bite from the plate on his lap.
Nolan’s eyes locked on mine again. A zing of heat ran through me. It was infuriating having no idea what he was possibly thinking. He’d invited me into his space, but so far he’d been quiet and impossible to read.
I couldn’t help but wonder about his relationship with Daniella. Did he treat her like a girlfriend? I knew they had a complex relationship. But I couldn’t help holding out hope that if he met someone he really connected with, then maybe . . .
No. I couldn’t let myself go there.
Even without her here, I felt her presence. The fresh-cut flowers on the dining table. The pumpkin-spice-scented hand soap at the kitchen sink. I doubted those were his touches. It felt weird being in her territory. The romance novel sitting on the kitchen island felt planted. I wondered if she’d purposefully left it there. Wanted me to see it. Wanted me to feel strange, filled with this tingly awareness that I was in her space.
“Can I steal you away?” he asked.
My heart pumped faster. “Sure,” I said, rising from the couch to follow him toward the dining room as Greyson continued watching the game.
Nolan pulled open the sliding door that led to the patio out back, and I stepped through. Thankfully the blistering heat of the summer had faded into a pleasantly warm fall. The sun was just beginning its descent, leaving the sky to decide if mellow oranges or pretty pinks were to dominate that evening’s view. Either way, the atmosphere seemed to glow with possibility.
“Is everything okay?” Nolan asked, joining me beside the wrought-iron railing. “You’ve been quiet today.”
He had too, but I didn’t point that out. “It’s fine. I’m just a little out of my element.”
And a thousand miles outside my comfort zone. Not only because of getting involved with Nolan, but living in a new state, away from all my family and friends. It was bound to throw a girl off a little. But it felt nice to have company, and something about his presence made me feel safe.
He placed a reassuring hand against my lower back. “I’m glad you came today,” he said, his voice low.
I swallowed down a wave of nerves. “Me too.” I meant every word of that, surprisingly.
I shifted my weight, looking out over his backyard. Neat lines from the lawnmower and a row of well-groomed hedges at the very back. If only my life were that tidy . . .
“So, how does all this work? Do you mind if I pry a little?” My cheeks heated slightly, knowing all the questions spinning in my mind. It was one thing to hear about it over drinks the other night; it was quite another to see it with my own eyes.
“Pry away.” He chuckled softly, his hand slowly stroking up and down my spine.
Awareness zinged through me. It had been a long time since I’d felt a man’s touch. Six months, to be exact.
Taking a deep breath in an effort to embolden myself, I released it slowly. “Do you bring other women home to your bed often? And how does . . . she feel about that?” I didn’t want to say her name, but Nolan didn’t hesitate.
“Daniella has lived here for two years, so yes, I have brought women home before. But other than the gorgeous woman standing in front of me, I’m not interested in seeing anyone else right now. If that’s what you’re getting at.”
“Does she sleep in your bed?”
He shook his head. “No, it’s me and Sutton in there, and since she can’t stand him, it’s never even been on the table.” His hand stilled, giving me time to process his words. “And whenever I . . . play with Daniella, it’s in her bedroom, not mine.”
“Play?” The question sprang from my lips without thought. Damn lack of filter again.
Nolan shifted beside me, dropping his hand from where he touched me. I immediately felt a sense of loss.
“Daniella’s interests are somewhat . . . dark.”
A shiver of real concern ran through me. I didn’t know this man, not really. What if he was into things I couldn’t possibly tolerate?
“Does she bring men home too?” I asked next. Although curiosity gnawed at me, I wasn’t sure if I was ready to hear the extent of his kink just yet.
His expression tightened. “No. And not because I’m against it—that’d be pretty fucking hypocritical of me—but because she’s not interested in other men. She’s always been a one-man kind of woman.” Then he studied me. “What else is going on inside that pretty head of yours?”