Page 46 of Even If the Sky is Falling
“Really? What did you think?” Shea’s eyes dropped to his mouth; Nick was certain of it. Her gaze lingered while he spoke.
“I thought it was more fun than Stockholm. The Finns are interesting people. But I want to get back to what you said earlier,” he said.
Her intense gaze broke, and her eyes landed on his. “What did I say?”
“‘That’s so hot.’ What did you mean by that?”
Shea licked her lips before pressing her glass to her mouth. “It’s ridiculous,” she said after taking another sip. “I don’t know why I said that.”
“But you do,” he pressed gently. “I want an idea of how to impress you when we eventually get coffee.”
Her face broke into another wide grin as she rolled her eyes. “You’re already impressive,” she chuckled.
Nick crossed the divide and took her hand; he hoped it wouldn’t scare her off. Shea’s hand was warm, slightly sweaty, but her fingers tightened around his just slightly. “Tell me,” he said.
She pressed her glass against her neck and murmured, “Does it feel warm in here?”
“Yes.”
She gave a shaky sigh. “I’m sorry for sounding so nervous, but I don’t find myself in these situations, like ever. I’ve been thinking about you for the last six months. And now that I’m stuck with you—not stuck—now that we’re together... I find out you’re not only incredibly handsome, but worldly—and you think about the Soviets capturing you. You’re very hot, Nick Hendrix.”
He struggled not to squeeze her hand after that admission.
So Nick shifted even closer until they were knee-to-knee on the small couch. No other woman had ever described him like Shea had, and listening to her was a heady experience. “You’re gorgeous and incredibly intelligent, Shea Anderson,” he replied, pulling her small hand to his chest. “You stay on my mind throughout the week. I have to wait until you come back to my store every Friday, and Ihatethe waiting.”
“Oh damn,” she breathed. Her face was only inches away from his as her palm pressed against his heart. “I want to kiss you so hard.”
“We don’t have to wait now,” he said, wondering if she could feel how fast his heart pounded. As he tried to keep his excitement in check, Shea nervously licked her lips again. As if she was preparing herself for something big. Nick wanted to give her enough room to navigate the situation, so he waited for her to make the first move.
Shea
Chaos swirled in her mind as Shea held on to Nick’s chest. Her fingers grazed what felt like a lump of marble beneath his T-shirt, but under that muscle was a very human heart. Alive and beating hard for her. He’d given her explicit permission to reach out and take what she wanted from him, but Shea couldn’t bring herself to act upon it. She stopped right before his face, feeling his hot breath feather against her lips, and seized up. Her brain glitched.
Even while staring into his dark brown eyes, long black lashes and heavy brow. Even while he licked his full lips in preparation...her mind raced with the same persistent doubts.
This is only temporary.
He’s a rolling stone.
You’re moving too fast.
Shea sat up straight and left his personal space. “I’m sorry,” she said, mortified by her indecision. “I don’t know what I was trying to do there.”
Shea didn’t realize her hand was still pressed to Nick’s chest until he returned it to her lap. He gave her a devilish smirk as he sat back. “You’re being adorable, Shea,” he said, standing from the couch. “Would you like anything else to drink? Water?”
She shook her head. “I’m still working on this.”
He made a leisurely stroll back to this tiny kitchen. “I haven’t had a vodka and tonic in a long time. I’m more of a bourbon man, but this is pretty refreshing.”
“Do you ever drink gin?” she asked, thankful for the swift change in subject. Kissing him shouldn’t have been this difficult, but Shea was in the middle of a dry spell and was seriously doubting her seduction game. She felt like a kid standing on the edge of double Dutch ropes, trying to find the perfect moment to jump.
Nick’s deep hearty laugh came from his belly. “My father is the gin drinker, so no. Nothing against my old man, but I’m still in that phase where I’m not ready to be him or deal with my mortality.”
She found his honesty endearing, if not a little irrational. Nick looked and felt virile, while she felt like much of her life had slipped through her fingers. She’d spent most of her twenties trying to earn a terminal degree so that she could work her thirties toward tenure. “How old are you?” she asked as he returned to the couch to place his glass on the coffee table.
“I’m thirty-nine, you?”
“I’m thirty-five,” Shea said.
