Page 40 of Mine This Time
When I stepped out of my car, the air was fragrant from the heat of the day with the scents of gardenias and honeysuckle drifting around me. I didn’t miss that there were two black SUV’s parked to the side. I’d done a remarkable job at shoving my worries to the back of my thoughts today. Still, the sight of those vehicles brought my fear racing to the forefront of my mind.
Uneasiness prickled down my spine, and I had to remind myself I was safe with Nash. For all I knew, he’d already dealt with everything. I was lifting my hand to knock when the door swung open.
“Hey,” Nash said, a slow smile unfurling across his face and sending my belly into a few spins. “Your GPS was on the nose with the time.”
He held a dishtowel in his hand, which he tossed over a shoulder as I stepped through the door. The door shut behind me, and I scanned the space. We stepped into an entryway with a tile floor. Nash led me through a pair of French doors into what I presumed was the living room. Dark hardwood flooring was offset with warm, cream-colored walls. A large stone fireplace took up a wall on one side with bookshelves flanking it. On the other, a flat-screen television was mounted in the center of the wall. The entire room was inviting. It was furnished with a large sectional sofa that I imagined I’d never want to get up from once I sat down. It had soft throw pillows tossed over it and a fluffy blanket. A cream-colored rug was in the center with a dark brown coffee table just beyond the couch.
As I turned toward Nash, a dog came trotting through an archway that led into another room. The medium sized dog had white fur and a tail like a flag.
“This is Star,” Nash said. “She’s friendly.”
Star rushed to me, circling my legs with her tail swishing against me. “I didn’t know you had a dog.” I knelt down to greet Star. Glancing up to Nash, I added, “I’m guessing that black star on her forehead is how she came by her name?”
Nash winked as he smiled down at us. “Good guess. Although, she’s not my dog actually. She’s my parents’, but they have date night tonight, so they dropped her off with me for the weekend.”
Straightening with a last stroke across Star’s head, I couldn’t help but smile. “Oh, that’s too cute. Do they have date night often?”
“Every week.” Nash gestured for me to follow him. We crossed the living room and walked through another archway, which opened up into the kitchen. “They have dinner together out somewhere every week. Once every other month or so, they spend the weekend out of town.”
I stopped as I glanced around—the place was beautiful. Stunning really, with beautiful hardwood flooring continuing into the kitchen where a large round dining table sat within a bay window. There was just enough light left for me to see the field behind the house with a view of a river in the distance. Wooden beams crisscrossed the ceiling with a pot rack hanging above an island in the center of the room and counters lining the walls. It was clear Nash was in the middle of cooking. He walked to the island where the stovetop was and adjusted the flame under a large pan before stirring it. Star trotted across the room to curl up on the bed beside the table.
“What are we having?”
“Fresh shrimp with rice over sautéed onions and mushrooms with Cajun seasonings. It’s one of my father’s recipes. He told me I had to make it for you. I would’ve anyway, but now he’s guaranteed to ask me if I did.”
My heart, my confused and oh-so-tricky heart, gave a funny little thump in my chest. It was so sweet for Nash to want to make sure he pleased his father. Having seen him with his parents, the love between them was evident.
I didn’t know what to make of the fact that, apparently, Nash had told his parents I would be here for the weekend. I elected to stay silent on that. My nerves were already enough of a jumble in so many compartments of my life. I didn’t need to add worrying about what Nash’s parents thought of me to that list.
“You’re a good son, Nash,” I murmured.
“I try to be. I was a bit of a wild one when I was a teenager. I’ve got some penance to do to make up for that.”
I laughed. “I’m sure you weren’t that bad.”
Nash flashed a devilish grin. The sight of it had my skin prickling all over with awareness, and heat blasted me from head to toe. Nash’s smiles were dangerous on their own, but throw in the naughty glint in his eyes and the sly tilt to his lips, and oh, sweet Jesus, I was in serious trouble.
“You have no idea. I got caught drag racing on the highway once, and I could be stubborn as hell.”
My brows hitched up. “That’s it? You could’ve been much worse.”
He chuckled, the sound spinning into the need already kindling inside of me.
“And you cook? I think you might be too much.”
Chapter Twenty-One
Nash
“Too much what?” I asked.
Mari rested her elbows on the counter opposite the stovetop where I was cooking and shook her head slowly. “Let’s see. You’re a wealthy real estate investor. You’re handsome, and you even have a good story. To top it off, you cook.”
“I have a story?” I turned off the burner under the onions and mushrooms I’d been sautéing.
“Yes,” Mari replied with a slight roll of her eyes. “I can see the opening lines in the story. Local boy, born and raised on the Gulf Coast from humble beginnings. Parents are still together and keep him grounded while he makes money hand over fist. The too much is you cooking. I can already tell it’s good because it smells divine in here.”
I chuckled as I turned to check the shrimp in the steamer basket. “I enjoy cooking, and my mama insisted I learned when I was growing up.”
