Page 25 of Rescued Love
Eyeing me and the kitten in my arms like we’re precious.
“Uh,” very smartly comes from the back of my throat before I swallow hard and shake my head. “Wh-what are you doing here?”
Yeah, that didn’t sound much better, but at least they were words. Not well put together words, but words. I let out an annoyed huff.
But I’m not annoyed at him being here. No, a zing of excitement goes through me at him being here. I’m annoyed at myself because I can’t seem to keep it together when he’s around.
During our first meeting I could barely get my mind to function and defend myself. Honestly, I did a piss poor job of it, and it showed.
Then the other night at The Goose I was practically mute. Now, I’m not sure that was really all my fault, but it certainly was his considering his leg was pressed against mine for most of the night.
How is a girl supposed to keep it together in such circumstances?
“I’m here to see you,” Nathan’s voice is deep and filled with a longing that pulses in my own body like it’s answering his call. He steps closer to me, close enough to touch. His fists clench and then release and I know, just know, he wants to reach for me but is holding himself back. “I came to apologize. You didn’t deserve the shit I accused you of when we first met.”
He runs his fingers through his hair, messing up the strands and causing them to stand straight up instead of being styled the way they were moments ago. He looks sexier with his hair messed up, and I wasn’t even aware it was possible.
This is how I saw him the other day—his hair mussed and wearing jeans and a t-shirt. He looks just as good today as he did then.
The other night at the bar, he mentioned he’s a lawyer. I’ve been trying to picture him in suits, but it’s not easy for me, not after seeing him dressed so casually. I’m sure he can pull off asuit, so much so it would probably have my tongue flopping out of my mouth, but it’s hard to imagine him wearing one.
There’s something so right about what he’s wearing right now. Effortless. Easy.
Mine.
What the fuck?
I blink at Nathan a few times, my mind whirling with a realization that is beyond dangerous, and not just because the first impression he gave me was not a favorable one. This isn’t his home.
He’ll leave.
With a shake of my head, I swallow hard, Nathan’s eyes so full of hope. “It’s okay,” I rasp, the words being forced from my throat.
“No,” he intones, “it’s really not.” His shoulders slump, his lean body deflating with something like shame written all over his face. “It wasn’t even about you, and I hate to admit it because you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. I watched you for a few moments when I came around the house from the barn after hearing you pull up.”
My eyes widen at his confession and my heart starts to pound in my chest. When was the last time someone called me beautiful? Sure, I’m cute, in a ‘I love animals, and I live in a small town’ sort of way, but beautiful?
Wow.
“Then I saw the logo on your truck and fear for Grandpa took over.” He shakes his head, looking at me with sadness in his eyes. “I’m a criminal defense attorney,” he states, his eyes takingme in expectantly and I nod because I do remember it being talked about the other night. “I mentioned the other night how I’m vacation, but that’s not entirely true.”
My face scrunches up with confusion. I’m not sure if he’s changing the subject or if this is related. Of course, the way his subtle spicy scent wraps around me isn’t helping. “Huh? You’re not on vacation?”
He smirks like he knows the way he’s affecting me. If only that were enough to stop my reaction. If fucking only.
“Vacation implies,” he pauses like he’s thinking of how he wants to put it, “a choice and a plan. I didn’t plan to take this time off. It was kind of forced on me,” he gives me a small sheepish smile, his voice laced with a little embarrassment and shame.
“It was forced on you?” Well, I guess repeating him is better than not being able to form coherent sentences; even if they’re not my own. I guess. “I’m sorry,” I shake my head, “I don’t think I’m understanding what that has to do with me being out at the sanctuary and the accusations you made. I’m not,” I huff out a breath, frustration and the hurt the inflicted clawing at me and making me start again, “I would never do anything to put the animals in danger out there. Mr. Jacobson is doing good work. I want him to have those animals, and I want to help him any way I can.”
“I know,” Nathan whispers, his face contorted in pain. “I made horrible assumptions about you based on how I expect people to treat each other and the case I was working on before my mentor and boss decided I wasn’t able to overcome my bias and personal feelings about the client.”
Dread curls in my gut and I find myself taking a small step closer to Nathan. The need to comfort him is screaming at me, but I resist. I can’t comfort him; not yet.
Is this just going to be a weak attempt to excuse his actions? That won’t work for me.
“I can’t say a lot because it would be unethical, but the client is accused of running a very successful Ponzi scheme,” he tells me softly, his eyes begging me to understand.
If I were a cartoon, a light bulb would magically appear over my head and light up. I do understand, somehow. It even makes sense, but I have to make sure I’m right and ask, “And the people he swindled were older? Like Mr. Jacobson?” He gives me a pointed look and I roll my eyes while adding, “Allegedly.”