Chapter 22

ChapterTwenty-Two

Sadie

Allie and Trevor called it a night first. Three bottles of wine in, and Allie got a twinkle in her eyes. I’m pretty sure the entire table knew what that twinkle meant. Trevor certainly knew, because it didn’t take him long to stand. He took Allie by the hand, calling goodnight over his shoulder as he practically dragged his giggling wife to the bedroom I’d made mine since coming to this mountain oasis.

It’s really nice to see their relationship this way after four kids. A lot of relationships don’t survive after two kids. A lot of couples fail to make time to make each other feel important. And I get it. Even as someone without kids, I get it looking in. Life can be exhausting. So, it’s really sweet that when they have the time, they use it to add kindling to the flame of their love. It’s sweet and it’s important. It’s the thing that’ll see them go the distance in life together.

I hope one day I’ll have that too. I’m a little jealous, because I would really love it if Nick grabbed me and dragged me to bed.

He won’t, I know that. But I’d love it if he did.

Even though Allie and Trevor had vacated the table, and my eyes were beginning to burn, Will hadn’t seemed even close to tired. The man is a party animal, and I think again that Katie would love him. She’d give him a run for his money and then some.

Thinking on it now as I study the man across the table, I think he’d like Katie too. I wonder what would happen if I could somehow convince my friend to make the trip here to see me. Maybe I wouldn’t be the only one considering a massive life change.

Because it’s my go-to when I don’t know what else to do with men around a table, clearly, I pull out the Yahtzee. Will raises one brow and murmurs, “How old are you?”

To which I reply, “Everyone loves Yahtzee.”

The truth is Mom and Dad had played ritually. Board games were their thing and Yahtzee and Backgammon were the two they played most.

“Old people like Yahtzee, babe.” Will flips the sheet in his hand. “Did you—” his eyes move to Nick. “Did she print these off the Internet?”

“She did,” Nick confirms.

“Pitiful,” Will mutters.

“Hey!” I slap the dice into the middle of the table. “This is a great game. I’ll prove it by whooping your ass.”

My challenge has Will straightening in his chair. “You think, do ya?”

“I know.”

“Game on. I’ll wipe the floor with you, babe.”

I can tell Nick doesn’t like it when Will calls me babe, but I have a feeling Will is doing it to push Nick. Why he’d want to do that, I have no idea. These two have a weird friendship and I’m not about to try dissecting it for sense.

Instead, I reach for a die from the middle of the table. “Highest roll goes first.”

Two male hands lift a die, and we all roll. I cheer, because I got a six so I’m already feeling lucky against Will’s one.

We play until two-thirty in the morning, and I win every round. Will is a sore loser, because he’d prefer to accuse me of cheating than congratulate me on my Yahtzee fineness. Still, when my eyes feel as though they’re about to fall from my head, I start to clear the table.

“I don’t know how you guys are still going. I feel like I’m going to fall asleep in a cookie.” Will chuckles, but Nick begins helping me clear the table. When that’s done, I turn to Will and declare, “Let’s make you a bed on the couch, shall we?”

“I’m good.”

I frown. “You’re good?”

“Spent more than a few nights on that couch, babe. Know where I can find a blanket.”

“Oh, well, let me find you a pillow.” I turn and stutter-step, because I realize I don’t know where the pillows are.

Will chuckles as Nick watches me with dark, intense eyes. My skin burns.

“Know where the pillows are too,” Will tells me. “Though I figure I’m too drunk to care if I have one tonight or not.”

“Won’t feel that way in the morning,” Nick warns him.

“Yeah.” Will claps a hand over the back of his neck as he moves into the living room, dropping onto the couch and tugging the throw over his torso, legs poking out. “I’m good at regretting things in the morning. Nothing new here, man.”

Nick chuckles, but I’m frowning—because again—I seriously think Will and Katie would click. Probably too well.

“Okay.” I turn to Nick when Will begins to snore. The man just hit the couch and he’s already snoring. It takes me a solid half hour of tossing and turning on a good night to slip into sleep and this man just hits a couch and it’s lights out? That’s so not fair. “Well, he’s out.”

“It would seem,” Nick agrees, then he closes one large hand around my small hand, and tugs me to the stairs, flicking off the lights as we go.

When he guides me to the stairs rather than down the hall I’ve been traveling, I feel myself frown. I hope the bed upstairs is as comfortable as the one I’ve been sleeping in, because the one I’ve been in so far feels like I’m sleeping on a cloud. And the duvet is like being held by—by angel wings. It’s heaven. Pure bliss.

“You okay?”

My eyes bounce from the dark hall to the dark man before me. “What? I mean—yes. I’m—I’m fine.”

His brows knit. “You were pouting.”

My brows snap high. “I wasn’t.”

“You were.”

“Nooo.” I shake my head in firm denial. “I wasn’t.”

“Sunshine,” Nick argues. “You were.”

I relent with a sigh. “I wasn’t pouting. I was just hoping that the bed upstairs is going to be as nice as the one I’ve been sleeping in, because it’s like sleeping on a cloud and I like it. A lot.” My cheeks are starting to burn again. “I like it a lot.”

His voice is pitched low and deliciously dark when he rumbles, “You’ll like the bed upstairs.”

With no further ado, he tugs me up the wide wood staircase into the loft above. I’ve caught glimpses of the living space up here from below, but actually standing up here is amazing. Everything is so beautiful, the roof arched high, the windows bright and big and open to a clear, starry night. There’s another wood stove in the corner of the living space, a big u-shaped sectional in cream with a chunky wood coffee table centered over a massive, burnished brown, patterned area rug. The walls up here have exposed timber beams, like the mountain trees outside have invaded in sharp angles, cutting through sheets of drywall. A masculine black iron chandelier hangs from the peak, but it’s currently unlit, and the only light to spill into the space is that from the bright moon and stars that reflect against glittering white snow.

“Wow.” The word is barely a breath as it escapes from between my lips. More firmly, but still breathless, I add, “Nick, this view—it’s,”

“Beautiful.” My eyes flick to his to find he’s watching me. “I know.”

Feeling my skin heat for the umpteenth time, I tear my eyes away and laugh nervously. “I’ve been wanting a tour since I arrived.”

He frowns. “Why didn’t you ask?”

“It’s your home, Nick. I didn’t want to invade any more than I already had.”

He stiffens, shifting so we’re standing face to face. His chest is so close to mine now, a breath away, really. When he crooks his neck, tipping his head to catch my eyes with his, I can’t help but face the difference in our size. This man dominates my tiny frame with his larger, more powerful one. And yet he is so incredibly gentle with me.

“You haven’t invaded.”

“Oh.” The word comes out on a shaky breath. I’m suddenly nervous. Really nervous. And when my tongue pokes out to lick my lips, his eyes fill with heat as they drop. I think he’s going to kiss me—I want him to kiss me. Instead, he gives his head a short, sharp shake, and steps away.

What is that?Why didn’t he kiss me?

I’m confused, but I say nothing. I really have no time to say anything anyway as his hand squeezes around mine again. He tugs me through the living area into a wide hall where all the doors are open. I see instantly that the first door to the left is a massive gym.

“This used to be two bedrooms, but I knocked down the wall in the middle,” Nick explains. “I figured why work out in the basement, when I had two perfectly good rooms up here. I rarely go into the basement, so this just felt better, easier. When I built the house, I figured I put kids in these rooms, but after the accident,” he pauses and I want to ask him about that, about what happened. But he hasn’t spoken about it, and I don’t want to press. I don’t want to bring up demons that he can’t deal with or doesn’t want to deal with.

When he tells me, I’ll listen. Until then, I’ll wait.

Nick continues, “Anyway, I don’t have kids. So I knocked down the wall. But before I knocked it down to make the gym, I had two more guest bedrooms.” He tongues his cheek, and my heart flips when I realize what he’s telling me.

“You don’t have another guest bed, do you?” I squeak.

He shakes his head softly, studying me. “No.” A heavy, hot beat pulses between us. “But I’ve got the coach. It’s comfortable, so I’ll be fine,” he assures me before he points to the right side of the hall and mutters, “Bathroom.”

My head spins, my breaths coming in much too fast as Nick tugs me to the end of the hall where I now know his bedroom sits. His bedroom—where I will sleep tonight.

My heart races and I feel—tingly all over.

“My bedroom,” he flicks on the light to illuminate the massive space, and I gulp in air. It’s everything I imagined Nick’s bedroom would be. Dark and open and warm with massive windows open to a private view of a secluded mountain. His bed shares a wall with the gym so that when he wakes, he wakes to that view.

Wow.

“Make yourself comfortable. Like I said, I’ll sleep on the couch.”

Nick turns to leave me, releasing my hand, but my heart leaps and I catch him around his bicep. “Wait!”

His eyes cut to my face, and I swallow hard. Nerves feel like they are jumping around wildly inside my body. I’m so over-stimulated—so overwhelmed—that it wouldn’t surprise me at all if my entire body is trembling, but I’m too overcome to feel it.

When he says nothing, but waits for me, I force out, “I don’t have anything to wear. I—I forgot my bag in the room. I—I wasn’t thinking.” My face and body are on fire, and I am trembling. “Do you have a shirt I can borrow?”

He swallows thickly and I watch the muscles in his throat work. He has a very attractive throat, I think, before my attention is snared by the deep and gruff way he answers, “Yeah.”

I release his bicep, and he moves across the room to a dresser. He pulls open the drawer and takes out a big T-shirt. Unlike most of the things he wears, this one is white. He prowls back across the room toward me, and I take the shirt.

“Thanks,” I breathe. Again, he makes to leave, and I realize that I really don’t want him to. I whisper as he passes, “Stay.” And he freezes. But he doesn’t look at me. His shoulders are tense, and I can hear his heavy breath in the charged space between us.

Finally, he turns to me and when those dark eyes land on me, I realize I can’t breathe at all. “Are you sure?”

“Yes.”