Want Me (8 page)

He didn’t believe her. Not that the plant was having financial difficulties, that was to be expected. But what was going on between the two of them had nothing to do with her job. “And that’s what freaked you out on the street? When you jumped in the cab? Right that minute, you realized things were hard at work?”

The pink in her cheeks remained steady, but Shannon turned her body to the right, as if she were going to move to the big filing cabinet that stood in the corner. “No, not right that second.”

“Shannon? I…”

Her shoulders rose then fell, and she turned to face him, her smile not nearly reaching her eyes. “I should really get back to work.”

“Right,” he said. He wanted to kick the chair he hadn’t taken. He’d never been in a situation like this before. But he couldn’t see how he could force her into telling him the truth. Then a thought hit him, and he grew concerned. “You’re all right? You’re not sick or anything?”

“No. I’m fine. There’s nothing wrong, Nate. I’m sorry my behavior seems erratic, but I’ve always been weird. I’ve heard you call me that enough times.”

“That was different. You and your tiaras.”

“I was a little kid,” she said. “With four big brothers who liked nothing more than tormenting me and making my life a living hell. And you were no better.”

“I’m sorry about that. Princess.”

“Hey,” she said, and for the first time since last night she smiled at him for real. “It was more my mother’s idea than mine.”

“You loved it, though. Being on stage, doing all that twirling around. Singing and posing.”

She nodded. “I did.”

“By the time I was old enough to appreciate your talents, I was too busy going through puberty to pay attention. I’m sorry about that, too.”

“You didn’t miss all that much.”

“I think I missed a great deal,” he said, and his voice had gone low and rough as he moved right next to her massive wooden desk.

There it was again. The look from this morning. Raw and real and there was no way he was getting this wrong. He rounded the desk and shoved her damn chair right back into the wall. Her head tilted up, and her pink lips parted.

He took hold of her arms and pulled her into a kiss that blocked out every single thing but the taste, the feel and the scent of Shannon Fitzgerald.

8

S
HANNON
STOPPED
. S
TOPPED
breathing, moving, thinking. His lips. Her lips. Together. Kissing.
Oh.

Then his tongue, the tip of his tongue, slipped over her bottom lip, and sparks shot through her like fireworks, and she gave up, gave in. Her hands went to his hips, under his jacket, and she steadied herself as she touched him, as she parted her lips and took what he offered.

Thinking would come later. Now was for goose bumps and heat. She’d wanted this so much, and even if she had to stop, because at some point they’d have to, she wouldn’t have to give this back.

Nothing between them could go beyond the press of his mouth and the slide of her tongue, but she could have the memory and that was something.

She felt him pull back, and maybe it was just to breathe, or to change his angle, but what if it wasn’t? She followed him, leaning forward, chasing him. It couldn’t be over, not yet, not when they may not ever…

His breath on her lips and her chin, the loss, made her open her eyes. He was still close, still gripping her arms, but he looked startled, as if he weren’t sure how he’d ended up in this kiss. Not sorry, though. Smiling. As if he might laugh or shout, and it wasn’t at all a surprise when he looked around the office for a second or two, because she needed to get her bearings, too.

He came back to her, though. His smile settled down, his eyes darkened, and he stared at her. His right hand floated near her face before his fingertips brushed the path of her blush up her cheek to her temple. “You’re so beautiful,” he said, then winced slightly. “More than beautiful. How did that happen? When?”

“You went away.”

“And you became a gorgeous woman.”

She doubted she could blush harder. “You came back better, too.”

“Older, at least.” His fingers moved through her hair, carefully, slowly. “Hopefully wiser.”

“Definitely better,” she said, momentarily panicked that wiser meant he knew they shouldn’t be doing this.

“I don’t want to stop.”

She stepped closer to him, letting more of her body press against his. “No one’s asking you to.”

“But—”

“Not yet,” she whispered as her eyes were closing. “Please.”

“No, not yet,” he repeated before he kissed her again.

It didn’t seem possible, but the second kiss was better. She could feel how she affected him, and not only by the passion of his kiss, the slide of his tongue, but also by the pressure on her hip from his burgeoning arousal.

“Shannon,” he whispered as he pulled back, then his mouth was on hers again, as if that tiny distance had been too much to handle.

His hands had grown as possessive as his lips, running over her shoulders, her back, the curve of her bottom.

She smiled against his mouth, right in the middle of the kiss. Then she pushed her hips forward. Nothing major, not a bump or a grind, just a yes, permission to move again, to keep stealing her breath with his desire.

How she wished there weren’t all these clothes between them. She had been aching to touch his bare chest since that moment in the—

A knock on her door made her gasp and jump back as if it had been a gunshot.

Somehow Nate was a good foot away from her, his eyes panicked. She had the feeling she appeared as guilty as he did. Fortunately for her, she didn’t have an obvious erection to worry about. “Sit down,” she said.

He nodded, went around her desk. Sitting wasn’t enough, he had to cross his legs.

She pulled her chair back, then ran her hands down her blazer and slacks. She exhaled, hoping like hell she wasn’t as red as a beet as she opened the door.

Brady barely glanced at her. “I could use your help,” he said, then turned and headed back to the floor.

Shannon closed the door, leaned her head against it and tried to catch her breath.

“I’ll go in a minute,” Nate said.

“Okay,” she said. “Thanks for…”

He cleared his throat. “I’ll see you later.”

She left her office, remembering at the last second to take her earplugs with her.

All she could think was that she’d just made the biggest mistake ever. How was it possible to feel like this after one kiss?

* * *

T
WO
HOURS
LATER
N
ATE
STILL
couldn’t stop thinking about the kiss. He hadn’t planned it. If he had it wouldn’t have happened in her office with dozens of people around. But then maybe that had been a good thing. Or else he doubted he could’ve stopped. They both sure as hell had some thinking to do.

He came up on an old haunt of his and Danny’s—the basketball court three blocks down from the Fitzgeralds’—amazed that at this time of day it wasn’t jammed with kids. He couldn’t remember ever finding the place empty. It didn’t make sense, until he climbed over the fence and almost broke his neck landing on a crack in the asphalt.

The court was situated in a corner field belonging to a family who owned a bunch of drugstores. They’d turned it into a basketball court, put in lights for night games, built risers, made it nice. There’d been never-ending graffiti on the two walls, and the big fence had gone up when Nate had been fourteen. But everyone in the neighborhood played there. Kept things civil.

Guess the goodwill had run out. Or maybe a basketball court didn’t mean all that much when people were having trouble feeding their families. It still made him sad, and he debated chucking it in and going to Molly’s for a beer instead.

What the hell. It was a Friday at four-thirty, so maybe he’d shoot some hoops, see if he could get a game of one-on-one. If not, he’d still burn up some energy. He’d always done his best thinking while sweating.

He tossed his jacket on a low riser, grateful he’d brought the basketball he’d found in Myles’s room. Dribbling took on a whole new dimension as he zigzagged to miss the cracks and gouges. At least the hoop was still in play, even if the backboard was half-gone.

He stood where he imagined the free-throw line was, shot and missed. That wasn’t a big surprise. He hadn’t played in a long time.

In Bali, where he stayed between jobs, he did a lot of kayaking and swimming, and the gym he belonged to didn’t have a court. He got more practice shooting pool than hoops, which was a shame. He loved the game even though he wasn’t that great at it.

With hardly any backboard left, he had to run after every other shot, and even though the temperature was cool he worked up a sweat pretty quickly. But as time passed he began to hit a little more often than he missed.

Although he couldn’t afford not to pay attention to where he was running, he still had enough concentration left over to think about Shannon.

Damn, he hoped things didn’t get weird between them.

He had no idea what he’d expected. To take her right there on her big old desk? That they would rush back to her parents’ home and go at it in her bedroom with Mr. and Mrs. Fitz downstairs and the TV blaring from the family room?

None of the reasons that being with Shannon was a bad idea had disappeared. He was a guest in the family home. He supposed he could move back to the hotel, but he hated that idea.

He had to really think this through. Yeah, he wanted her something fierce, but he wasn’t going to be in New York for long. Shannon didn’t strike him as a casual sex kind of woman. Besides, he wasn’t feeling particularly casual about her. Casual meant that each of them were mostly out for themselves. Not a bad thing when it was mutual, but Nate cared about the possible fallout.

Danny had mentioned that Shannon was looking for something real, for something that would last. She wasn’t sitting in an ivory tower waiting, but she was particular about her choices.

He wouldn’t be anyone’s choice, especially someone like Shannon. She’d never want his kind of life. He couldn’t picture her in Bali, not the Bali he knew. He wasn’t living with the expats or hanging out with the spa retreat crowd. He lived on the cheap, in a shack near the beach. The electricity was spotty at best, the plumbing wasn’t much better, and he slept in the raw under a mosquito net.

A friend of his, an expat from England into real estate, kept a room for him in his South Bali cliffside villa, which was where Nate stored his clothing and anything of value, but as he spent so much time in inhospitable areas where the only shoes he needed were flip-flops or his heavy work boots, he didn’t visit it often.

Shannon was a villa woman all the way.

She was also someone he liked a great deal, and sex complicated things. He might not want to live in Manhattan, but when he did come to visit, there was no place he’d rather be welcomed than the Fitzgeralds’. He’d hate it if he messed things up with her, with them.

Weirdly, though, he wasn’t interested in anyone else. It didn’t seem to matter that sleeping with Shannon was off the table, he’d rather spend his evenings with her than any other woman in New York.

Good thing he was well versed in the single palm arts.

He threw the basketball entirely too hard. It flew back to the shadowy section of the court. He hadn’t noticed it was getting so late. Time flew when a guy was realizing he wasn’t going to get laid for at least a month.

Wiping his face with his T-shirt, he headed for the ball, and when he bent to get it, he heard a very distinctive voice.

“My ma says you better get home right this minute, Nate Brenner. She didn’t slave all day over corned beef and cabbage so that you could be out here playing with yourself.”

He grinned through his wince. The speech had been almost verbatim from back in the day. Only he’d been out here with Danny, and Shannon had never said that last bit. He was glad she had now. Guess things wouldn’t be weird between them.

“Tell her to keep her shirt on,” he said, which was something Danny had shouted more often than not. “I’m coming.” Nate stood, and there she was, outside the gate. She had her hands stuffed in her coat pockets, and the last rays of the sun were showing off in her hair, making her look like something created by magic. As he walked toward her, his grin got bigger with each step.

“How’d you know I was here?” he asked.

“Mom saw you leave with the basketball.”

“I didn’t see her.”

“She’s good at that.”

“Stealth Mom.”

“I think it comes with the territory. Especially with four boys.”

“What,” he said, standing inches away, watching her through the wire fence, relieved there was no awkwardness, no averting of gazes, “you don’t think she had to keep her eye on you?”

Shannon shook her head. “I was the Princess, remember? I got off on being perfect.”

“Sounds excruciating.”

“It was. Certainly no fun.”

“There’s still time to make up for that,” he said. “Catch.” He tossed the ball over the fence and she caught it easily. After grabbing his jacket, he started climbing, jumping down on the other side a little too soon. He jarred his neck and cursed his vanity.

“I’m not good at getting into trouble. Not enough practice.” She slid him a look he couldn’t interpret, but something about it got his cock’s attention.

“Good thing you’re friends with a master, then,” he said, studying her reaction.

“A master, huh?”

He slipped on his jacket, his mind racing. So neither of them was bringing up the kiss. Not overtly, anyway. Trouble was he had no idea what that meant. That they were going to pretend it never happened? Or pick up where they left off as soon as humanly possible? His body emphatically voted for the latter, but his head warned him to watch his step.

“You coming?” she asked. She’d taken a few steps toward home and he hadn’t noticed.

He decided to test the water. Put a toe in, nothing too drastic. He caught up with her. “After dinner, you want to do something?”

She looked at him, eyes narrowed, and if he had to guess he would say that she was testing the water, as well. “What did you have in mind?”

“It’s obvious you’ve missed out on a large part of your education. It’s a moral imperative that I corrupt you to make up for the lack. We could start with stealing a candy bar at the Duane Reade.”

“No.” She laughed the word more than said it. “I’m not going to steal things from the drugstore. Jeez.”

“Ah,” he said, as they walked very slowly, “a challenge. Which is fine. I’d be disappointed if you made this too easy.”

“And there’ll be no cherry bombs in toilets, or toilet paper wrapped around trees, or crank phone calls, either.”

“Those are classics for a reason.” Her laughter made him ridiculously happy. “You don’t have to work tomorrow, right?”

“I don’t have to, but I’m going to. I have to make a million Easter baskets.”

“A million?”

“Give or take.”

“Okay, so that means I can get you drunk, but not epically hungover.”

A big man walking a tiny little dog shared their sidewalk for a moment, forcing Shannon’s right side against Nate’s left. When the coast was clear, they didn’t shift back. “I don’t like being drunk,” she said.