Chapter 30

ChapterThirty

Sadie

I’ve been hot since we had our conversation in the truck. My insides began to boil when Nick’s pitch turned low, and he told me I would make a beautiful mother.

When he asked me what I thought he would be as a husband, I thought I might explode. I have been hot since. I can’t seem to shake it, either—this burning yearning inside me. He lit the match and doused me in flame. I want him.

I’m so aroused by him, it’s ridiculous. I’m ridiculous. I’ve struggled through my French onion soup and my glass of wine because all I want to do is take him to the truck and jump him.

It’s not exactly how I figured my first time would go, but I’m not entirely sure I’d complain if it did. I mean, if the man in the truck was Nick, I think I’d even be for losing my virginity like that. Really, I don’t care how it happens, so long as it happens with him.

Still, because I don’t have the lady balls one would need to drag a man for sexy-time in his truck, I’m making the best of my French Onion Soup. Really, it’s not a struggle. I love French Onion Soup, and this one is pretty high up there on my list of the best I’ve tasted, so I can’t complain. And Nick’s steak looks crazy good too, so it would have been a shame to drag him away from that.

Besides, the man wanted to take me out on a date, and I want to give him exactly what he wants. Still, in the back of my mind, I can’t help the niggling that he’s holding back because of my inexperience. Maybe it unsettles him. Maybe I shouldn’t have confessed to him that I’m a virgin after all.

Shoot.

I don’t want him to feel unsettled with me. I want him to feel with me what I feel when I’m with him. Safe. Trusted. Happy…

Good lord, I trust this man so completely, I’d let him play my body like a guitar and strum me to Kingdom Come.

I almost snort at the thought, but thankfully I hold it in and manage, somehow, not to choke on it.

“Do you want dessert?” Nick asks when the waiter takes our plates.

I do. I love dessert. My favorite part about going for dinner is the dessert menu. I don’t understand people that eat a meal in a restaurant and get up and leave without looking at the dessert menu. Those people are nutty. Those people have iron clad restraint, which I do not have.

“Absolutely.” I’m already reaching for the dessert menu the waiter brought when he came to take our plates, my eyes landing on the section for cheesecake. I very nearly moan. I love cheesecake. This steakhouse is bound to have a really fricking good cheesecake. Steakhouses always have good cheesecake.

I nibble my lip as I debate between the lime and the raspberry before I lift a brow at him. “You?”

“I’m sure I’ll find something on the menu.” His eyes are shining as they watch me, and I think he’s fighting a grin.

I narrow my eyes at him. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“You’re cute.” Again, his voice is rough. And I feel that same buttery feeling in my belly—the one that’s hot and slippery.

I shift my seat. “Do you want to share dessert?”

As much as I have no issue eating an entire piece of cheesecake after dinner, I also have plans for tonight. I bought the most stunning, drop-a-man-to-his-knees-and-make-him-beg-for-a-trip-to-heaven outfit. I have every intention of putting that outfit on when I get home and making the man in front of me putty in my hands. He’d proven his ironclad restraint, and I have every intention of breaking it.

I want to drive him wild. I want to push him to the edge of his control so that he doesn’t even have any left.

I want him to dominate me, and I want to worship him, because he seems determined to keep things relatively one sided between us. That being him giving me all the pleasure and taking none from me in return. I want to crack that will, and I want to make him want me so much that he can’t refrain anymore.

Besides, I seriously love my little outfit that I picked out with Allie. It’s going to help me with my wicked plan to drop a strong man to his knees.

So, eating an entire piece of cheesecake probably isn’t the best idea. I don’t want to be so full that I don’t want to play.

I want to play with this man. And I want to do that tonight.

I want him to unwrap me like the gift I became when I appeared on his doorstep for Christmas.

“What kind are you thinking?” he asks, bringing my mind back to cheesecake.

“Lime or raspberry cheesecake?”

“Lime.”

I beam. “Deal.”

We order dessert, and Nick leans into the table closer to me. I catch the scent of his spicy cologne and fail to fight my full-body shiver as his dark eyes move over me, and heat. His tongue comes out to wet his lips and I feel my own lips part on a sharp inhale, my breath hitches and—the mood is shattered as a woman stops beside our table, gasping. Loudly.

A pretty voice calls, “Nick?” and his entire body goes stiff.

My gaze snaps to her and I have to work to keep my jaw from hitting the floor. I don’t know how this woman knows Nick, but I do know that she is extraordinary. Like, a model come to life in this tiny little mountain town. She’s definitely no big fish in a little pond. She’s a big fish in whatever pond she’s swimming in. She would be a big fish in the ocean. That’s how beautiful she is.

Her blonde hair is long and straight and thick. It reaches nearly to her butt, and her eyes are a clear, brilliant, unnatural green. Her cheekbones are high, making me think she has some Native American lingering in her bloodline somewhere. And her mouth is crazy full and deliciously pouty. If I were into girls, I’d be hard-pressed not to be seriously crushing on her right now.

Those brilliant green eyes sweep quickly over me before a perfectly arched brow dips and she looks to Nick. A sultry, liquid silk voice asks, “How are you?”

I nearly roll my eyes. The woman is like an angel walking on earth—otherworldly. I can hardly even think. I don’t think I could form words if somebody paid me.

I’m stunned, and a little uncomfortable. I can’t compete with this woman. And I hope I don’t have to.

“Patricia,” Nick’s voice is deep and cold.

Patricia blinks, her full lashes sweeping her high cheekbones. “I haven’t seen you out for dinner in a long time.”

Nick leans back in his chair, his jaw hardening to granite. “I haven’t been out for dinner in a long time.”

Oh, he doesn’t look impressed to see her. And that makes me wonder, who is she to him?

Her eyes slide to me, and she seems to wonder the same thing about me. Unlike me, she asks, “Who’s this?”

“This is Sadie.” Although I know her name is Patricia, Nick doesn’t introduce us, and I shift uncomfortably.

“Sadie,” she repeats my name. “Who is Sadie?”

I want to tell her I’m Sadie, but Nick speaks before I can. “Sadie is staying with me for the Holiday.”

Patricia blinks, surprise on her face. “She’s staying with you?”

“Not that it’s your business but yeah, she’s staying with me.”

Okay…I’m starting to feel like there’s more between these two—and that makes me feel sick. Because if this woman was someone special to Nick, there’s no way I can be special after her. There’s no way I can follow in her footsteps. I’m the definition of ordinary. I mean, I’m pretty but I’m a pretty ordinary woman. This woman is the farthest thing from ordinary. She’s extraordinary.