Page 34 of Rescued Love
I scoff and gently slap his shoulder. “Whatever, I just wanted to get as many kernels popped as possible. It’s not burnt,” I insist while holding the bowl up for him to inspect.
He grins like he’s just won the damn lottery and plucks a handful out of the bowl. It’s a big handful as well. I get lost for a moment examining his forearms and hands.
A man’s hands are sexy as hell.
They can cause destruction. They can create immense beauty. They can give so much pleasure.
“I would have shared,” I huff out and roll my eyes, but there’s no real heat in my words. I nod toward the TV and ask, “Did you decide on something.”
“Are you good with action flicks? Superheroes?” He eyes me a little warily as he asks about what kinds of movies I like.
“No,” I deadpan, “it must be a romantic comedy or drama for me to watch it. Otherwise, I’m out.”
I keep a serious expression on my face, but the wide-eyed look, full of worry, that he shoots me has a laugh bubbling up. I can’t stop it in time.
He grumbles something under his breath before giving me a pointed look. I hold my hands up in surrender and shoot him an apologetic look.
“Sorry, couldn’t help myself,” I sass at him, and he wraps his arm around my shoulders and tucks me deeper into my side. “I’m good with whatever, but you can never go wrong with superheroes,” I tell him honestly.
It’s not a lie either. I am good with anything he chooses. I have a feeling I won’t be able to ignore him and all the places where our bodies are touching.
The only thing stopping me from saying something inappropriate is the popcorn. With the number of times Nathan looks at me, I’m not the only one struggling here.
But he doesn’t do anything more than cuddle me and find excuses to shower me in little touches while we watch a movie. Even when I cook a simple dinner and we’re eating, he brushes against me or touches my arm subtly. It’s driving me up the wall, but it’s also nice that he doesn’t want to jump into bed with me.
The conversation between us is easy and light. I hang on every word as he talks about where he lives, but my heart aches when I realize that he doesn’t have much there beyond his job.
I’m pretty much married to the rescue because I love it so much, but it’s not the only thing that takes up space in my life. Whenever he talks about his job, I can feel the stress radiating off him. I’m not even sure he’s aware of it because it’s become the norm for him.
When dinner is done and the sun has long since set, he looks at me with yearning in his eyes. I almost ask him to stay, but I bite my tongue.
He kisses my forehead, a-fucking-gain, and whispers against my skin, “I loved spending time with you Kimball. Can I see you again?”
I nod, a dreamy floaty feeling taking up residence in my body. That feeling stays with me long after Nathan’s gone.
Right up until I realize that he never asked for my number, and I never offered it up.
Well, shit. What now?
CHAPTER 11
NATHAN
I’m an idiot.
I spent the most amazing evening with Kimball yesterday, one that only made what I knew to be true even more real. She’s mine.
There I was, practically floating in the clouds with how much fun it was and how much peace she brought me. I pulled my phone out to send her a goodnight text and horror set in.
I didn’t get her number, and I didn’t give her mine.
Yeah. Like I said, I’m an idiot.
It should have been the first thing I did after she accepted my apology with a level of grace I did not deserve.
But I didn’t. Probably because I was too stunned to even think about it considering part of me expected her to kick me out on my ass and never talk to me again. But my woman did no such thing. She showed the same kind of empathy to me that she shows to the animals under her care.
And later, when we were watching a movie, she snuggled with me and the jealousy I felt with the way the kitten, Midnight, was curled against her chest, disappeared. I’m aware how ridiculousit is to be jealous of a cat, but I didn’t care.