Page 68 of Golden Touch
When I kiss him back, he makes a soft, happy sound deep in his chest. Maybe that’s why I find Nash so sexy—he’s a strong, tattooed beast that is somehow capable of great tenderness.
Honestly, it could mess with a girl’s head. It’s messing with mine already. Whenever he does this—licking his way into my mouth, his roughened fingertips lifting the hem of my top and then skimming across my skin—I get sidetracked. And I getdistracted by the fantasy—that a burly guy with a hot body has arrived in my life to love me and protect me.
But the truth is much simpler—a burly guy with a hot body and good hands has arrived in my life for sex and mutual entertainment. And maybe stress relief.
Not to love me or protect me. I have to do both those jobs for myself. And, frankly, that’s easier to do without a man in my bed.
Less fun, though.
Meanwhile, Nash takes my face in his hands and kisses the ever-loving hell out of me. His body is hot and hard beneath mine, and whether I intended to or not, I’m losing myself in the moment.
Until suddenly Nash scoops me up and sets me back down on the chair.
Alone.
I blink, dismayed, as Nash crosses the kitchen to fix himself another cup of coffee. “That’ll have to hold us until later,” he says. “Tasting room opens in ten, and I’m working the walk-in today. We can’t have you in there. Too risky.”
“Oh,” I say quietly. “I’m sorry about that.”
“Not your fault. Catch you later.” He turns to go, then turns around again immediately, a thoughtful look on his face. “Hey, Livia? I’m supposed to do drinks tonight with a high school buddy who needs a shoulder to cry on. I can cancel…”
“No—don’t worry about it,” I say, even as my heart drops. “Go out and have fun tonight.”
He frowns, which probably means that I’m not hiding my discomfort as well as I should be. “Benito’s guys are going to watch the place. You’re not in any danger.”
If only that were true. But Nash owes menothing. “Go,” I insist. “I don’t need a babysitter.”
“A babysitter,” he repeats slowly. “Now there’s an interesting idea.”
“What?No!I’ll be fine. I don’t need anybody.”
Nash lifts his chin and studies me with an expression that’ssuddenly serious. “Not true, sweetheart. We all need somebody sometimes. It’s just a fact.”
I’m just processing this while he gives me a sexy wink. Then he turns and leaves the pumphouse with a powerful stride.
Damn it. The sight of him leaving makes my stomach twist. Like he’s taking a little corner of my heart with him.
That evening I spend time cooking a big pot of tortilla soup and brooding. And mulling over my options.
Officer Benito wants me to narc on Razor’s crew, and I’m terrified to do that. On the one hand, I have a secret stash of evidence against Razor that I took when I left. It’s my little insurance policy.
On the other hand, I haven’t figured out how to use it and remain breathing. Razor has too many friends, and I didn’t spend enough time in his orbit to even know who I ought to be afraid of.
That leaves me two choices—give the files to Officer Benito Rossi, and hope that he’s as good at his job as he thinks he is. Or do a runner.
My gut says that door number two is my only real chance. But I’ll never really get my life back. I’ll always be waiting for the other shoe to drop. I’ll always be afraid.
And if the police decide I’m too important to let go, I’ll be looking over my shoulder forthem, too. Maybe Nash meant well when he brought in the cops. But it’s making my life even harder than it was before.
After an hour or so of indecision, I pick up my phone and call Jennie.
“Ivyyyyy! What’s up with you?”
“Are you okay?” is my first question, even though she sounds cheery. With Razor and Rotty on the loose, I can never let down my guard.
“I’m cool. That dickhead who was looking for you hasn’t been back. He must realize that I actually don’t know where you are.”
My blood pressure drops a fraction. “Good. What’s shaking?”
