Page 23 of Rescued Love

Nathan glances at me before noticing that everyone at the table already has a drink before he looks toward the bar. “I think I’ll grab a beer first. Do you all need another round?”

I think I hear a few murmured agreements, but it’s just background noise to me right now.

He’s here and is going to sit right next to me. Is he going to be a jerk to me again?

Somehow, I just know my heart can’t handle that. The damn fragile thing.

Dixon stands up, the grin on his face wide and welcoming. “I’ll come with you.”

As they walk off, my eyes find my best friend. Hailey is already looking at me, her eyebrows knitted together. She takes me in and tilts her head slightly as she studies me before she grins.

When I give a subtle shake of my head, her smile only grows.

Ansel whispers, “Interesting.”

I turn toward him and narrow my eyes, throwing him a glare that would scare someone who hasn’t known me as long as he has. “Nothing interesting in the least.”

He holds his hands up and smirks. “If you say so,” he tries to placate me.

It doesn’t work.

Within a few minutes, Nathan and Dixon join us again and pass out another round of beers for the guys and The Goose, the bar’s signature drink in all its peach gloriousness, for Hailey and me. As Nathan settles into his chair, his thigh presses against mine.

I expect him to pull away like the contact has burned him. He doesn’t.

When I glance up at him, his eyes are looking at me and filled with warmth. That can’t be right, can it?

He’s introduced to the table, and I give a small smile when it’s my turn like we haven’t met before. I don’t know what flashesacross his face when I don’t call out the fact that we’ve met before. Relief? Confusion? Disappointment?

I don’t know. What I do know is that the warmth from his thigh seeps into me as the conversation flows easily around me. I engage when I need to, but it’s not easy to concentrate.

The only thing I can feel is him.

His nearness.

His warmth.

Then there’s the subtle spice of his cologne. I take it in with every breath and it muddles my brain. It’s a problem because I’m not one of those women who likes when a guy is mean. It’s not a turn on.

Then why are my panties wetter than they’ve ever been before?

And why do I feel the loss of him when, hours later, we all get up and go our separate ways?

It’s only later, when I’m in bed and surrounded by darkness that I can admit just how much I liked having him by my side and how it felt right. Not like it matters. He’s not sticking around, and he’s already made his decisions about what kind of person he thinks I am.

“What a shame,” I sigh as I roll over and try to get comfortable.

Thinking about his spicy scent is what allows me to relax enough to go to sleep and, thankfully, I’m too tired to even begin to think about why that is.

CHAPTER 8

KIMBALL

I’m looking at the screen in front of me, trying to make graphics for the shelter’s social media, but I’m not seeing a damn thing. At least nothing that makes any sense to me. Nope.

But my thigh? That little bitch is burning as if it can still feel the press of Nathan’s leg to mine. It’s been far too long since he was sitting next to me at The Goose for me to still be experiencing this phantom sensation. Hell, I’ve slept twice.

“The most Monday of all Mondays,” I mutter while closing my eyes and leaning back in my chair.