Page 81 of Brooklynaire
I hold up a hand to stop him before I need to turn a fire extinguisher on myself. “I think I get theidea.”
“And that’s just off the top of myhead.”
Whew. “That, uh, jives pretty well with my own thoughts on thematter.”
“Really?” His eyes widen. “Then why are we avoiding each otherinstead?”
“Because it would be fun, but fun ends. Think about it. You’d run to the end of your playbook pretty quickly and then everything would be doubly awkward. Once you thought it through, you’d decide we needed to just forget about the whole thing,too.”
“No fucking way,” he says immediately. “When did you get to be such apessimist?”
“Since birth,” I point out. “Have you metme?”
“You’re not a pessimist, Bec,” he says, leaning against the desk. “You love everyone, except maybe your intern. You planned Georgia’s wedding like she’s royalty. The whole fucking team would lie down in the road for you. That’s not pessimism. That’s why I don’t quite buy itnow.”
“Well…” My heart is thudding. I can’t even think of a response. “Maybe I just can’t imagine a niceending.”
“Do you always plan your escape route first when you’re interested insomeone?”
He’s got me there. “I’m never interested in someone.” A beat goes by while I realize what he’s just said. “Are you interested inme?”
“Were you not listening when I just described how very interesting to me you are? If I had my way, though, the next thing that happened between us would bedinner.”
“Dinner?”
He rolls his eyes. “You know. Food consumed near the end of the day? At a restaurant, because I don’t cook. Candlelight. You in a low-cut sweater. That’s what I would have asked for overbreakfast.”
I try to take that in. “Like, adate?”
“Like, fer sure.” He’s even teasing menow.
I blink. “That’s really sweet. I’m sorry I threw it back in your face without evenasking.”
“Come here,” he opens hisarms.
I step forward immediately, letting him fold me into a hug. I lean against his hard chest and let out a sigh. One of his long hands caresses myback.
“Everything got really tangled up there, didn’tit?”
“Yes,” I say to his shirt. Leaning against his very solid chest calms medown.
“I’m sorry to ever distress you,” he whispers. “You mean a lot tome.”
And then my eyes begin to sting, damn it. I blink rapidly. “I think I went a little crazy, Nate. You mean a lot to me, too. But so does my job. How did we get socomplicated?”
“Everything worthwhile iscomplicated.”
It feels wonderful to be held by Nate. When I feel his heartbeat against my cheek, I stop thinking about him as The Powerful Nate Kattenberger. Right now he’s a guy who gives greathugs.
He runs a hand through my hair. And then he presses his lips against my temple, giving me a gentle, lingering kiss. It’s lovely for its warmth and for the fact that it asks nothing of me except for my acceptance. It’sperfect.
And that’s when the door flies open. “Y’all are needed at the press conference, Mr. K!” says a chirpy voice. And then, “Oh gosh—sorry!”
I’ve already leapt back, though, the way you’d fling yourself out of a patch of poison ivy. My face reddens during the little silence thatfollows.
“Be there in a sec,” Nate says. He looks completelyunruffled.
Of course he does. He can do whatever he wants. It doesn’t matter at all if Heidi Jo tells the league commissioner that Nate and his assistant get a little freaky in his office between meetings. His reputation can’t bedented.
