Page 7 of Nutcracker with Benefits
Craig smiles like I hoped he would, but then he asks me a question I’m not ready to answer. “Do you love her?”
I give Craig a look. I haven’t told Clara I love her. I’m not going to tell him first.
“Sorry.” He shrugs sheepishly. “Had to ask. You know Clara’s never really talked about marriage or kids…”
I return his shrug. “Neither have I. I’d like to get married someday.” I smile. “To the right person.”
“Someday,” he says, hopeful.
“Someday,” I echo.
3
Clara
I haven’t had a moment to pull Nash aside, but I can probably get him alone with the whole family divided up and occupied with their tasks.
Awkwardness has hung overhead all morning. I caught Dad glancing between Nash and me at least four times like he’s trying to solve a puzzle or read a deeper meaning into everything we say.
I’ve tried to keep things normal, but it feels like everything has a deeper meaning now. At least Whitney and my brother seem oblivious, and the kids are a great distraction.
Uncle D and Dad had Christmas Eve dinner catered last night—which I missed, fuck you very much, Pan-Euro Airways, for the flight delay—and lunch today is leftovers. My job is to get the giant rolls ready, which will be used for sandwiches along with the leftover prime rib and turkey.
With the rolls in the oven, I have fifteen minutes until they are done. Nash and Dad are still out on the balcony, so I lean onto the counter and watch, just trying to stay out of the way. Uncle D and Whitney do a dance so smooth it looks practiced, pulling dishes out of the fridge, slicing meats, pulling veggies in and out of the microwave. Compared to them, I feel clumsy, uncoordinated. I haven’t spent the hours together in this kitchen that they have, learning their dance.
That’s one of the many sacrifices for my job.
Outside the huge glass windows, I can see Dad’s face—the frown and the thousand-yard stare. I wonder if Dad can see us inside or if he’s frowning at his own reflection. Whichever it is, he’s listening intently while Nash talks.
All I can see is Nash’s back, his body language from behind.
I should be worried about the conversation they are having, but instead, I’m distracted by the view. Damn, even those ridiculous pajama pants make his butt look good. I tilt my head in appreciation.
Dad finally looks over at Nash, and whatever Nash has said he earned him a shoulder clap from my dad. They both nod, some kind of agreement reached, and Nash turns around, opening the sliding glass.
I spin around. “I’m going to use the bathroom,” I say, jerking a thumb over my shoulder.
“Okay,” Whitney throws casually back without removing her eyes from the buttons on the microwave, but Uncle D glances up and then over my shoulder, where Nash is coming inside.
“Don’t take too long,” he says, a glint of teasing in his eyes. His laissez-faire attitude about this makes me think Uncle D knew—or at least suspected—something was up with Nash and me.
I roll my eyes. Great, now that my parents know, they’re going to be insufferable.
When Nash’s gaze meets mine, I jerk my head towards the hallway and my room. He gives me a nod, and I walk down the hall to my room.
As I wait perched on the edge of my bed, I think back to other times we’ve had to do the hide-and-sneak-around thing. It was always a secret because we didn’t want to make a big deal out of it.
Nash and I kept our own expectations low. I always knew that I was going to strike out on my own, do things that would take me beyond New York City, and Nash was loyal to Uncle D. I knew he’d stay here.
The door soundlessly opens, and Nash comes into the room, shutting it behind him. He glances down at me, his eye positively twinkling in amusement.
“You fucker,” I hiss, sitting up straight. “Why didn’t you tell me you weren’t sleeping here last night?”
Nash sobers for a moment, settling in to sit next to me. “I am sorry about that. It just slipped my mind. I definitely didn’t expect you to creep into bed with me.”
I whack him on the arm with the back of my hand, feeling my cheeks heating. “I thought it would be sexy.”
Nash glances over at my closed door and then leans in. “It definitely would have been sexy.”
