Chapter 14
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Sitting atop one of the weathered picnic tables in front of the Dairy Queen, Taylor sipped her slush straight from the cup, tossing the straw aside. The bug zapper hummed overhead, and the balmy summer night wrapped around them like a memory. She could almost believe she was seventeen again—carefree, untouched by loss, by responsibility.
The stars hung heavy in the sky, and a gentle breeze ruffled Tony’s dark hair, lifting it in soft, careless tufts.
Impulsively, she reached over and touched his arm. “I’m so glad we’re still friends.”
Tony’s expression turned unexpectedly serious. “I’ve missed you, Taylor.” His voice was quieter now, more reflective. “You were the best part of my life for a long time. Actually, you were my only friend.”
Her heart clenched at the confession. “Tony?—”
He shook his head. “It’s true. Don’t bother denying it.”
She let out a breath, a wistful smile playing at her lips. “Those kids just couldn’t see what a special guy you were.” She lifted her hand and started counting on her fingers. “You’re loyal, kind, fun to be with?—”
“Stop, stop.” Tony held up a hand, his neck flushing red. “You’re making me sound like a cross between a Boy Scout and Lassie.”
Taylor laughed, warmth flooding her chest. “All I’m trying to say is you’re a great guy. Don’t settle for less than you deserve. Promise me that?”
His gaze dipped to his drink before he nodded. “I promise.”
A comfortable silence settled between them until Tony spoke again, his voice careful. “Do you really think your father hoped we’d end up together?”
Taylor took another sip of her Mr. Misty, considering. “Probably,” she admitted. “He always liked you and your parents.”
Tony’s gaze grew distant, thoughtful. “He was a great guy. And your mother was the best. They were… the kind of couple you don’t see much anymore.”
Taylor swallowed against the tightness in her throat. “Yes, they were.” Her voice softened. “I always promised myself that would be the kind of love I’d have.”
Tony’s gaze sharpened. “Do you think you’ll have it with Nick?”
Something inside her twisted at the question. “That’s an odd question.” She forced a light laugh. “Of course.”
Tony didn’t look convinced. “Claire says you two haven’t known each other very long.”
Taylor stiffened. “Since when do you listen to Claire?”
He ignored her attempt to dodge the question. “I can understand you being lonely, with your parents gone and everything. But I don’t want you to settle. You deserve more than—” He stopped, exhaling, as if debating whether to continue.
Taylor lifted her chin. “I appreciate your concern. I really do. But you don’t need to worry. I love Nick. We’re very happy together.”
Tony’s skepticism was impossible to miss.
“I’ll admit the man is a workaholic, but I’m doing my best to change that.”
Tony studied her for a long moment before reaching up, gently tipping her chin toward him. “I want you to promise me something.”
She barely had time to register the shift in his tone before a voice cut through the moment like a blade.
“If she ever needs anything—or anyone—I’ll be the one she turns to. Right, sweetheart?”
The deep, unmistakable voice sent a jolt through her. Taylor turned sharply, her heart lodging in her throat.
Nick.
He dropped onto the picnic table beside her with the kind of effortless confidence that made her pulse skip. His gaze flicked between her and Tony, sharp and unreadable.
Her stomach churned with guilt—irrational guilt. She hadn’t done anything wrong. And yet, heat crept up her neck.
“Nick.” She struggled for composure. “I didn’t see you.”
His lips curved into something that wasn’t quite a smile. “I don’t doubt it. You two were… engaged.”
“What brings you to this neighborhood?” she asked, trying to steer the conversation away from the heavy tension now pressing in around them.
Nick’s gaze flicked toward Tony before settling on her. “I just dropped Erik off. We had some business to discuss.”
Taylor seized the opportunity to change the subject. “The scramble was really fun. When you couldn’t make it, I called up Tony, and he was able to rearrange his plans. It’s too bad you couldn’t be there. I think you’d have enjoyed it.”
Nick’s jaw flexed, but then—just like that—his expression smoothed. His face creased into a sudden, effortless smile. “Just being with you, sweetheart, would be enough to make it enjoyable.”
Even though she knew he was slipping into his adoring fiancé role, a warmth spread through her. It seemed natural to lean into him, to rest her head against his shoulder. His arm wrapped around her, possessive and sure. Maybe she had caught the hang of this acting.
Or maybe…
“I’ll see her home from here, Karelli,” Nick said smoothly.
A muscle twitched in Tony’s jaw, but his smile remained easy. He glanced at Taylor. “Thanks for inviting me. If you ever need a partner?—”
Nick’s grip on her waist tightened slightly. “She won’t.”
“I need to get going, anyway.” A muscle twitched in Tony’s jaw, but he masked it with an easy smile as he turned to Taylor and nodded. “Thanks for inviting me, Taylor. If you ever need a partner?—”
“Won’t that be a little hard to do from D.C.?” Nick’s voice cut in, casual but edged with something sharper.
Tony turned back, his expression unreadable. “Actually, I may be sticking around. At least for the summer. Henry wants me to help him with a couple of projects.”
Taylor’s face lit up. “That’s wonderful! I can’t believe you’ll be here a while longer.” She turned to Nick, eyes bright. “Isn’t that great?”
Nick’s silence stretched for a beat too long before he finally gave a noncommittal half-smile.
“I’ll drop off your clubs tomorrow.” Tony tugged gently at a loose strand of Taylor’s hair, the gesture both playful and intimate. “Let me know what time works.”
“I will. Thanks again for today. I had fun.” She watched him walk away, the sound of his boots fading into the night, before turning back to Nick. “I hope while Tony’s in Cedar Ridge, you two can get better acquainted.”
Nick’s gaze flickered, something unreadable passing through his eyes. He studied her for a long moment, then gave another slow, deliberate half-smile.
Taylor picked up her slush and took a sip, trying to ignore the strange tension in the air. “I think you two have a lot in common.”
Nick let out a low chuckle, but there was little humor in it. “Offhand, I can think of at least one thing.”
She frowned, confused—until she remembered. Claire. They had both been involved with her. Taylor’s stomach knotted. “Nick, about?—”
He stopped her words—and her breath—with a simple touch of his fingers against her lips. The warmth of them sent a shiver down her spine, but it was the solemnity in his gaze that made her heart pound.
“I’ve been doing a lot of thinking these past few days.” His voice was low, steady. “I’ve decided that as long as the whole world thinks we’re engaged, I need to start playing the part. That means being your escort, your golf partner… your fiancé.” His eyes held hers, unwavering. “It’s time I started acting like one.”
Taylor’s pulse skittered. Acting like one? How was she ever going to hold on to her sanity—not to mention her heart—if he really pulled out all the stops? Because he might be acting, but her responses were all too real.
His eyes twinkled, and for a moment she swore he could see right through her, could read every thought spinning in her mind.
Gazing into his deep blue eyes, she felt herself slipping—like standing at the edge of a tidepool, knowing that one step forward would pull her under.
Dangerous. This is dangerous.
Like a shot of whiskey, she downed the last of her slush in one desperate gulp and jerked upright, dislodging his hand from her shoulder. Suddenly, she could breathe again.
Until he took the empty cup from her and set it on the picnic table.
His gaze darkened. “You know what I want.”
Her heart hammered. “A Mr. Misty of your own?” she tried weakly.
His hand slid up her arm, slow and deliberate, sending little shocks through her skin. “Your beauty takes my breath away.”
A warmth spread over her skin, so intoxicating it made her dizzy. She forced a nervous laugh, gesturing at her casual outfit. “In this? I don’t think so.”
“It’s not what you’re wearing.” Nick’s fingers brushed the thin strap of her tank top, featherlight.
Taylor froze, her breath catching in her throat. “Nick, don’t.”
“Shh, sweetheart.” His voice was a whisper against the night as his hands found her arms, his mouth lowering toward hers.
His lips met hers—soft, gentle, devastating.
Her heart pounded erratically, her fingers curling against his chest. She was losing herself in him, drowning in the kiss, in the way he made her feel—like she was the only thing in his world at that moment.
She forced herself to pull away, to breathe. She turned her head, staring into the darkness, trying to steady the wild thrum of her pulse.
When she finally looked back, his gaze was locked on hers, dark and unreadable. Her mouth went dry. “I…”
“Taylor,” he murmured, his voice a slow caress. He reached up and brushed a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “Let me take you home.”
The words sent another shiver through her. There was no mistaking his meaning.
She swallowed hard. “You can’t.”
“Can’t?” His brows drew together, his expression shifting.
“I’m spending the night with my grandparents,” she blurted. “There was some kind of chemical spill in my neighborhood this afternoon. The fumes were terrible and the fire department suggested everyone find somewhere else to stay.”
She was chattering, she knew it, but she couldn’t seem to stop. A small, knowing smile lifted the corners of Nick’s lips, and he brushed his knuckles lightly across her cheek.
“Call your grandparents,” he said, his voice low. “Tell them you’ll stay at my place.”
She shook her head.
“Why not?” His jaw tightened slightly. “We are engaged.”
“For the moment.” She met his gaze, steady and unflinching. “And even if we were really engaged, we’re not married.”
Nick let out a slow breath. “You can’t be serious.”
She understood what he was feeling— she felt it too . But she also knew how quickly a moment could spiral into something she wasn’t ready for.
“I’m sorry, Nick.” Her voice was quiet, her hand resting lightly on his forearm.
His jaw clenched, frustration flickering across his features. “This is incredible.” He raked his fingers through his hair, exhaling sharply.
“Nick, I?—”
“It’s okay.” He stood abruptly, his fists jammed into his pockets, tension radiating from him. “It’s probably better this way.”
His gaze drifted toward the flashing neon cone atop the Dairy Queen, his features tight, unreadable.
Taylor studied him for a long moment. “I know you won’t believe me,” she said softly, watching the way his shoulders tensed, “but this is hard for me too.”
His smile was strained, almost bitter. “Good.”
The car ride to her grandparents’ house was torture.
Nick kept the conversation light, polite, but underneath it all, the tension wrapped around them like a slow-burning fuse. The unspoken words, the weight of what had nearly happened—it filled the space between them, charged and heavy.
When they reached the house, he insisted on walking her to the door. The night stretched quiet around them, the porch light off, the only glow coming from the ornate lamp at the end of the driveway.
At the steps, Nick hesitated, glancing at the window as if expecting to see her grandfather peeking through the curtains. When he didn’t, his tension eased slightly, and he turned to Taylor.
She smiled, her lips soft, expectant.
Nick slipped his fingers into her hair and pulled her close. If all he could have was a good-night kiss, he’d make sure it was one she wouldn’t forget. One she’d dream about when she lay alone in her bed tonight.
Instead of meeting her lips right away, he teased her, letting his mouth linger where her shirt collar ended, pressing featherlight kisses along her skin. She shivered, arching instinctively, her breath catching.
And then he kissed her—deep, slow, intense.
For a moment, there was nothing else. Just them.
A sharp bark shattered the moment, followed by the flick of a porch light.
Nick pulled back, his breathing unsteady, his body taut with restraint.
Taylor straightened, pressing a shaky hand to her hair. Her eyes glittered in the harsh light; lips still parted.
Nick exhaled sharply. “You’d better go inside.”
She hesitated. “How do I look?”
Like someone who’s just been thoroughly kissed. His gaze raked over her, lingering. “Beautiful,” he murmured. “You look beautiful.”
Her lips curved into a dreamy smile. She reached for the doorknob, then hesitated, brushing her lips against his. “Sleep well, Nick.”
Nick let out a dry chuckle. Was she kidding? It would be a miracle if he slept at all.