Page 77 of Unexpected Forever
“Y’all okay?”
“Yeah,” I say, blowing out a breath. “It was just tense there for a minute.”
“I’ll have Landon come out here tonight, and I’ll keep a deputy on it until this blows over.”
“That isn’t necessary, Aidan.”
He gives me a hard look. “You’re my pregnant baby sister and you’re alone out here right now. It’s more than necessary. And you need to let Nate know about this so he can take security precautions.”
I nod absently, thinking about how I donotwant to tell Nate, but knowing I can’t get around it.
Megan and Aidan wait around until my cousin and deputy, Landon, shows up to play watch dog until tomorrow morning.
When I’m finally alone, I stare at the crib for a little while longer, images of the future running through my mind.
A future I want with Nate, in spite of the issues with the press. But I know it will never be mine.
* * *
Later that night,I decide I’ve put off calling Nate long enough. I waited, wanting to make sure I didn’t break down in sobs when I talked to him.
I also torture myself a bit by watching the recording of the home run derby, where he commentated.
With a sigh, I lean back against the pillows. It never fails; when I see Nate Gentry on the screen, lust curls in my gut and my heart aches.
Truth is, I’ve watched him for years, thinking lustful thoughts.
But now that I’ve gotten to know him, he’s more than one of my top five fantasy fucks.
He’s flesh and blood to me now.
I miss the man as much as I miss the sex.
The charcoal-gray of his suit and the blood-red tie fit him perfectly. His dark hair is combed back, but one errant lock falls over his forehead.
My fingers flex with the need to run them through the thick mane like I did the night he kissed his way down my body.
And when the other commentators talk the reigning Home Run Derby king into hitting one last ball, drool pools in my mouth.
Even in his dress shirt, the camera picks up the play of his muscles when he swings.
And hits the ball into the stands.
When he grins and looks at the camera, I swear he looks into my soul. Add the deep timbre of his voice, and the throb between my legs is unbearable.
I turn off the TV and, before I can change my mind, pull up his number and hit the green button.
“Hey, Charley. How are you?”
“I’m good.” I blow out a quiet breath, trying to sound like I’ve been relaxing with a book.
Not watching his latest segment on ESPN and debating another vibrator session. “How about you? How was your sponsor dinner?”
Rustling comes through the speaker, and images of his long, sculpted, muscular body flash through my mind and make me clench my thighs together.
Is he wearing a shirt? Is he shirtless? It occurs to me that outside of our one night we spent in the same bed—where he was deliciously naked—I don’t know Nate’s sleeping habits at all.
“Long. But it was productive. They want to continue our partnership.”
