Page 43 of Rescued Love
And I’m not going to leave Sweetwater Valley. I can’t. My entire life is here and the work I do at the shelter is something I could never walk away from. Those animals need me and while I’m sure someone else would step up into the role, I’m not sure Iwould recognize myself if I walked away. It’s a part of who I am, a part I’m proud of.
“Don’t get ahead of yourself,” I mumble, “it was just a bit of fun.”
With that, I stand up and hustle into the bathroom to do my morning routine. I need to go into the rescue soon, but I need a moment to myself first to get my shit together. While I’m glad I didn’t wake up alone, if the scent of coffee in my apartment is any indication, I’m not sure how I’m going to face Nathan.
Maybe it would have been easier if he had just slipped away.
My heart aches at the thought. If he had it would have been a first for me, but isn’t there a first time for everything?
It doesn’t take me too long to get dressed, but a little longer to muster up the courage to leave my room. I can hear him moving around in what I assume is my kitchen and I find myself smiling without even realizing it.
It’s going to hurt when he leaves and goes back home.
Knowing I can’t put it off much longer, I force my feet to carry me out to the living room. The moment I enter, Nathan’s gaze snaps up from where he’s cooking at my stove and a breathtaking grin covers his face. My heart starts to pound as uncertainty sweeps through me.
I’m not sure I can do this.
“Hi,” I squeak.
Nathan’s deep, amused chuckle makes me fidget where I’m standing. Okay, it’s not only the sound of his amusement, but also the sight greeting me.
He’s standing in my kitchen with only his jeans on. His bare feet are peeking out from the bottom and his chest is on display. My mouth goes dry while my nipples pebble. Thankfully, I’ve already put on a bra or else he would be able to see the evidence of exactly what he does to me by only existing.
“You know, I was hoping to bring you breakfast in bed,” he pouts slightly as his eyes roam over my body. “I had a whole plan to wake you up with my face between your thighs so you could have some breakfast after I enjoyed mine.”
My body shudders with desire and need. His words ignite something in my gut, and I press my thighs together hoping to alleviate the ache. It doesn’t help. Not even a little bit.
“Sorry to ruin your plans,” I tease him to cover up the way I want to jump on him and take him up on his offer.
From the way he’s smirking at me, I do a piss poor job of covering for myself. Oh well.
He points to the small table and demands, “Go have a seat, Kitten. I’m just about to plate up your omelet.” When my eyebrows go up, he gives me a sheepish grin. “I wasn’t sure if you had specific meals in mind for what’s in your fridge, so it’s a cheese omelet. I hope that’s okay?”
“Sounds delicious,” there’s a dreamy quality in my voice that I can’t even try to hide.
When was the last time someone cooked for me? Probably when I lived at home with my parents. None of the guys I’ve tried to date, which was so long ago anyway, ever cooked for me. I frown at the thought because I never really thought about how they never stepped up to care for me.
There were always other problems with those guys that the fact that they liked how I was willing to take care of them, while not reciprocating, never occurred to me. It should have.
Maybe that was the underlying problem? It certainly was easier to say that we didn’t have anything in common or had different dreams of the future. Then there was the one guy who cheated on me, which is a hard pass for me to even consider continuing the relationship.
“How do you like your coffee?” Nathan’s voice pulls me out of my thoughts, and I look up to find him watching me, amusement dancing in his eyes.
Hopefully, he’s thinking that I’m just not a morning person and has no idea I’m considering what has been missing with my previous relationships. I lick my lips and swallow hard before telling him, “Far too much sugar than is probably healthy and a splash of creamer.”
The way he scrunches up his nose has me giggling softly, but he doesn’t comment and goes about making my coffee along with his own. The lack of judgement, and simple acceptance, has tears pricking the back of my eyes. It’s so damn sweet I can hardly stand it; and just what I need.
Nathan sets a plate down in front of me, along with my perfectly made coffee, and then joins me with his own. When he looks at me, his eyebrows pull together, and he reaches over and smooths his thumb on the edge of my mouth as if to stop the scowl on my face.
“What’s going on in that head of yours, Kitten?”
Fuck. His voice. It does something to me. It almost makes me forget about my wayward thoughts.
But it’s not a good idea to talk about past relationships with the person you’re currently doing…whatever it is we’re doing. Right?
Shit. I’ve never been great at relationship stuff. It wasn’t just the guys who I didn’t work out with; sometimes the problems were with me.
I was told more than once that my commitment to the shelter was just too much for them to handle. I wasn’t willing to apologize for making it a priority, and not just because it’s a job I love. Even when I tried to tell them that it was more than a job, that it is a calling, they never understood.