Chapter Eighteen
Nate
If he’d thought the wine-coloured pyjamas were sexy, there was nothing that could have prepared him for wet-haired Laurel wearing nothing but his shirt. His cock had stiffened just at the sight of her.
Now, he stood in the shower, scouring his body free from cow gunk.
God, Laurel was impressive. She was passionate, knowledgeable, commanding and absolutely beautiful. She cared so much about everything and was, quite frankly, amazing. There was no other word for it, and the worst thing was that she didn’t know it.
He’d brought her here as a favour because she needed to relax, and they were friends, right? That’s what friends did.
What friends didn’t do was kiss and stroke and nip at swollen lips. He couldn’t stop thinking about the way her mouth had tasted, and how she had reacted to him, urging him to touch her with moans and sharp breaths. God, he wanted her.
But it was more than that.
A little thought at the back of his mind niggled at him. If he were truthful with himself, he’d brought her here to meet his friends for another reason, hadn’t he? She’d shared so much of her life and he wanted to show her a little bit of his.
The hot water pulsed down on his shoulders as he investigated his feelings even further, slowly brushing away the layer of dirt obscuring the find underneath. Laurel well and truly triggered his defensive instinct. Whether it was George Hibbert, her knob of a brother Robin, or his longest friend, it didn’t matter. But, why?
There was something more, something not quite enough to touch. He’d have to dig deeper, otherwise this confusion would linger and that was the last thing he needed. Nate was a clear-headed archaeologist, not a little lost lamb.
Laurel hadn’t needed his help with the BAS endorsement. She was fully capable of dealing with it herself. But he didn’t want her to have to deal with it by herself. She should have help, someone standing beside her to share the burden, to support her, to make her happy.
It should be him standing beside her, holding her hand.
What was it Jack had said about the way he looked at Laurel? The not-so-veiled comments Jess had made? Christ, even Anwar had made some snide little remarks that he’d waved off.
Laurel Fletcher had hidden herself within him, and he hadn’t even realised it had happened.
He was in love with her, and that was a deep, hard, irrefutably evidenced find.
Just like every other discovery he had made since he’d met her, he wanted to share this with Laurel. Wanted to tell her about this amazing find that he’d just uncovered, so deep down it had taken an awfully long time to find.
Nate would have to talk to her, have to tell her. It was bursting out of his chest, trying to claw its way to her. He would lay his find at her feet and hope and hope and hope that she felt the same way.
What if she didn’t? He couldn’t think like that. He had to believe there was something there and all he had to do was blow the dust away and find it. Because otherwise, he would have the agony of working with her, being around her and knowing that she would forever be unattainable, she would forever not need him, not want him. Would he risk that? He would have to. He couldn’t know this, feel this, and not tell her.
Also, they were too old for shit like hiding feelings, tiptoeing around each other, not being able to communicate effectively. They could be grown ups about this.
Nate closed the door to the en-suite softly behind him. Laurel had turned off the main light, and the bedside table gave a soft yellow glow over her where she lay in the bed.
Sleeping.
So much for his speech.
He snapped off the bedside light, pulled the duvet back and climbed in, trying not to wake her. She was looking forward to a lie in and he wasn’t about to maul her in her sleep. Her eyes flickered and she rolled over to him, hooking a leg around his and an arm across his waist, cheek against his chest.
Well, there were worse ways to sleep than with the woman you loved sprawled across you.
It was heaven. It was hell.
Christ, her feet were cold though.
He was awake before her because, quite frankly, he was uncomfortable. Laurel must have been desperately tired, because she hadn’t moved all night and he didn’t want to disturb her. If she needed the sleep, she needed the sleep.
Alex better not show his face this morning, or, if he did, he’d better be so bloody apologetic that Nate might find it appropriate not to cut him out of his life forever. Because last night he had been a complete and utter wanker, and Lucia hadn’t been much better either.
Laurel stirred against his chest and rubbed a hand across her eyes.
‘Oh,’ she said, her throat rusty with sleep. She shot upright, unwinding herself from him and shuffled back to her side of the bed, taking all the warmth with her.
‘Nate, I’m so sorry. I didn’t realise I had actually limpeted myself to you.’ She put her face in her hands. ‘I’m so embarrassed.’
His shirt collar crumpled around her neck, her hair gloriously messy around her face.
‘Don’t worry about it, Laurel,’ he said. Nate sat up, scooting backwards so he was resting against the headboard, adjusting his morning glory so he hoped it wasn’t evident, and crossed his ankles.
‘I suppose we should get ready,’ she said.
Before she could turn to swing her legs out of the bed, he caught her warm hand in his.
‘Laurel,’ he said, but his voice came out a whisper. He cleared his throat. ‘Laurel, I need to talk to you.’
‘Okay,’ she shifted on the bed to give him her full attention. He looked down to his hand holding hers. This had been so much easier when he was thinking about it in the bathroom last night.
‘I’m a stupid, stupid man, Laurel. I didn’t see it, I didn’t see—’
‘Uncle Nate, Uncle Nate! Laurel!’
What the hell was that little cock blocker doing? He loved Benji, but not right now, no please, not right now.
‘Uncle NATE, Mummy said I could jump on you at ten o’clock, and it’s ten o’clock in three, two, one.’
Laurel laughed and pulled her hand away from his as the door burst open and Benji hurled himself at the bed. He managed to cup his crown jewels as the entire weight of an eight-year-old boy landed on his stomach.
‘Morning Benji,’ he groaned. ‘How are you so heavy?’
‘It’s because I eat all of my vegetables,’ Benji said proudly. ‘It’s ten o’clock and mummy said I could come and get you because Bessie the Cow had a baby last night, and I want to go and see it, but mummy said that I had to wait for you, Laurel.’
Nate couldn’t bring himself to be mad with Benji, because he was so excited.
‘Laurel, why are you wearing one of Uncle Nate’s shirts? Don’t you have any pyjamas?’
She laughed.
‘I know Bessie the Cow had a calf last night, because me and Uncle Nate helped her. It was super late, so I was wearing my pyjamas and they got really dirty.’
‘You helped?’ Benji looked at her wide-eyed. ‘And you helped too?’
‘I did,’ Nate said, shuffling to get more comfortable. ‘But Laurel did most of the work.’
‘Can we go and see her, can we go and see? I want to see the baby cow,’ Benji said, bouncing.
‘Yeah, okay, okay, but stop jumping up and down on my peanuts please, Benji,’ Nate said, and Benji threw back his head and howled with laughter.
‘Peanuts! You call your boy bits peanuts!’
Laurel was laughing now as well, they were a tableau of joy. Looking at her, his heart clenched, because this is what he wanted. Laurel, comfortable, laughing and happy, with him.
‘Go on,’ she said to Benji. ‘Me and Uncle Nate will get dressed then we’ll go and see Bessie the Cow. You’ll have to choose what to call the calf.’
‘I get to name her?’ Benji asked.
Laurel frowned at him. ‘Bessie the Cow is your cow, isn’t she?’
The boy nodded thoughtfully.
‘Then you get to name her baby.’
‘I get to name a baby,’ Benji whispered. ‘I’ll wait outside and think. It’s got to be a good name.’
‘Go on then,’ Nate said, pushing him onto the floor.
Benji ran outside.
‘Shut the door!’ Nate called.
‘What were you going to say?’ Laurel said.
He smiled ruefully. ‘Nothing that can’t wait.’
Laurel
Laurel had just about gotten over her embarrassment of practically suctioning herself to Nate all night. She’d slept with her head on his chest, and it had been the best sleep of her entire life. He’d been kind about it, but he’d also been shy and nervous and wanting to talk to her about something. It would be letting her down gently, telling her that whilst she had decided that the best place to sleep was his chest, that he had been a stupid, stupid man because he could finally see that she was desperate for him, but he just didn’t want her in the same way.
The hot, passionate kisses last night, the feel of his skin on hers, had just been the wine talking. The only one bed. The proximity. But that talk could wait, or never happen at all. She did not want to go through the same thing as she did ten years ago. Not again.
But everything was normal as they were sitting having coffee after visiting the stables. Normal, normal, normal. If she kept saying it, if she kept believing it, it would be true.
Mother and baby were doing well. The calf was walking and suckling. Joints were good, eyes were good. Laurel was happy, as was the vet with her assessment. Nate’s eyes found hers more often, or was she just more aware because she knew how his face looked when it was soft from sleep.
Benji, the gorgeous boy that he was, had decided to call the calf Penny and John Stapleton, who had arrived early to find his favourite cow birthed and happy, had nearly cried.
Jess and Owen had requested the old farmer let them take some of the burden and help more. Or at least learn the basics. Stapleton was gruff, but relieved. Benji was adamant that he was going to get up at five every morning to feed Penny. They’d see how long that lasted.
‘Are you sure you have to go now? You can’t stay for lunch?’ Jess was saying in Laurel’s ear as she hugged her.
‘No, we’ve got to get back,’ Laurel said apologetically. ‘It’s been so nice meeting you though. Thank you so much for having us.’
‘It’s been lovely, and I’m really sorry about…’ Jess trailed off. ‘You know.’
‘Yeah, don’t worry about it.’ Laurel smiled.
They’d not seen Alex or Lucia this morning, who were either still asleep (although with the noise that Benji made, unlikely), or hiding (way more likely after the bollocking Jess said she gave Alex last night).
‘Don’t leave it so long next time.’ Owen clapped Nate on the back. ‘Lovely to meet you,’ he said, giving Laurel a kiss on the cheek.
‘Laurel, will you make sure that Uncle Nate visits more please?’ Benji asked earnestly.
She squatted down so she was at eye level with the boy.
‘I’ll tell you what, how about you come and visit Uncle Nate at my farm? We’ve got lots and lots of animals for you to help out with.’
‘Do you mean it?’ Benji’s eyes lit up. ‘Do you have cows like Bessie and Penny?’
‘We have hundreds and hundreds of cows just like Bessie and Penny, and of course I mean it. I’ll get mummy’s phone number from Uncle Nate and I’ll organise it, because,’ she looked around theatrically before whispering, ‘Uncle Nate is rubbish.’
‘He is rubbish,’ Benji said, throwing his arms around her neck.
‘Right, come on Benji. Let Laurel go please, pal,’ Nate said, prying the boy off her for a hug of his own.
‘Where are Paul and Angeline?’ Laurel asked Jess. It was about eleven. Had they already left?
‘Oh, I wouldn’t bother them. Paul is a notoriously long sleeper and we don’t expect to see him for another half hour or so,’ she said, wrapping an arm around Owen’s waist. ‘Thank you so much for coming.’ Jess glanced over Laurel’s shoulder at Nate swinging Benji around in a monster hug. ‘He’s happy.’
Okay. That was a weird thing for her to say.
‘I’ll get your number. I’m holding you to a visit.’ Jess pointed at her.
‘Of course. Any time,’ Laurel replied.
They made quick work of getting into the car and setting off, Benji running down the drive after them, racing the convertible.
‘So?’ Nate said, turning onto the main road.
She cut her eyes to him. Here it was. The let’s-just-be-friends, the it’s-not-you-it’s-me, the I-just-don’t-think-of-you-like-that.
‘So… what?’
‘So, was it as bad as you were thinking, meeting my friends?’ He gave her a quick smile before returning his eyes to the road.
Laurel’s shoulders relaxed.
‘I didn’t think it was going to be bad! I really liked them all. Well, except Alex. Obviously,’ she grumbled, turning her hands over in her lap. And Lucia, but she wasn’t about to bring up the ex-girlfriend.
His jaw clenched.
‘Yeah, he’s a prick. I’m requesting a new liaison at the society. I can’t work with him anymore.’
‘Nate, don’t do that for me.’ She would feel desperately awful if he threw away years and years of friendship over her. Even if Alex was a prick.
His lips quirked in a tight smile at the road.
‘I’m not. I should have cut him loose a long, long time ago. He’s just not…’ Nate hesitated. She reached over and patted his hand resting on the gear stick.
‘I know,’ she said.
They used to be kind of interchangeable at university, but Alex and Nate were so different now. Nate had grown up, moved on, become a rounded human being. Alex, however, was still acting like a twenty-two year old and it was more than a little pathetic.
Laurel leaned her head back and closed her eyes. A convertible was so much better than her own battered car. Or a tractor. She was thankful that she had brought a long-sleeved top even though the heated seats were lovely. A car like this, she could really get used to.
It was a few minutes before Nate asked if she was sleeping.
‘No, why?’
He cleared his throat and turned to look at her dark eyes, ‘Are you busy when we get back? I need to talk to you, and I don’t think the car is the best place.’
Laurel sighed. Nate was determined to have this conversation, and she had about twenty-three minutes to prepare herself.
‘Sure.’ She tried to sound light and bouncy, but her heart was lead. ‘Where do you want to go?’
‘Wherever you feel comfortable.’
Oh great. Just great.
She got to choose where she would have the memory of Nate Daley rejecting her, again. Well, not her flat. She wouldn’t have that tainted by him, and not the farm because she didn’t want everyone else to watch her heart break. Top of the hill? No, that was her and Rebecca’s place. It would have to be the pub. The Dog she’d chosen the place where she’d feel most comfortable.
‘Come with me.’
Laurel grabbed his hand and took off, at pace, up the road to her flat. She fumbled with the key as he stood beside her, until she finally unlocked the front door to the street. She ran up the stairs and unlocked the door there, and he followed. What was happening?
He took in her flat. This wasn’t Little Willow Farm Laurel, this was all black wood and silver highlights, industrial and futuristic. It was so Laurel, to fit herself into what she thought people wanted from her, what people needed. She wasn’t the cute, sweet little farm girl with shabby chic, rustic, mismatched chairs. She was cool and granite, sleek and amazing. Her TV was screwed to the wall, with books stacked on floating shelves either side. The black curtains twitched lightly in the breeze from the open window. A hallway led off from the main room, down to where he presumed her bedroom was.
‘Say it again,’ she demanded. ‘Please.’
The last was a whisper.
‘It’s been ever since you rushed me out of the cafe and let me into your office, let me into your life.’ Nate stepped forward, once, twice. Laurel’s breath hitched. ‘It’s more than wanting to share every little moment of every day with you. You’re under my skin, Laurel, and I wouldn’t want you anywhere else.’
Nate watched her as she weighed everything in her mind. He could see it play out on her face. The confusion, a flash of sadness, then fear, cold and bright.
‘Can I kiss you?’ He was desperate to.
She looked up at him with those drowning bronze eyes and nodded.
His heart thudded in his chest as he moved forward, letting his fingers glide across her jaw, his thumb across her bottom lip. Laurel’s eyes fluttered closed as she waited for him to touch his lips to hers, but he wanted to savour it, to memorise her face, to remember this moment as the beginning of everything.
Her lips were raspberry pink, plump and ready as he slipped his hand into the hair at the back of her neck, tilting her head back. Her hands slid up his chest, gripping his shirt tightly in her fists. His breath was a puff of joy against her lips, because she was holding back, she was waiting for him. Perhaps she had always been waiting for him.
‘Nate, please,’ she breathed, and he couldn’t wait any more.
His lips touched hers, gently, softly, so he could remember that she tasted of wine and sherbet. The tender, soft pressure of his lips on hers. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him to her. Then, it was desperate, wet mouths against each other, as if they could never be close enough. It was beautiful, open-mouthed kisses across her jaw and she gasped when his tongue touched the softness just behind her ear.
He’d bared his soul to Laurel Fletcher, and here she was, letting him kiss her, running her hands across his chest, through his hair, pulling him close as if she couldn’t get enough of him. He nipped at her bottom lip and she groaned as he made his way down the column of her neck, dropping wet kisses in the hollow of her collarbone.
‘Yes,’ she breathed, and his heart hammered a blacksmith beat in his chest at her acceptance.
Laurel
At this exact moment in time, Doctor Nate Daley was nipping the skin at the base of her throat, drawing soft mewling noises out of her that she had never ever made before. He wanted her, all of her. He was falling, freefalling. She had already fallen. She’d fallen the moment he’d pulled her up from a cow dung covered yard. No, scratch that, it was happening again. She was falling again.
Nate kissed up her neck, tasting her, marking her skin with his lips, his tongue, his teeth. His large hands splayed across her ribs, restrained, but barely so.
‘Laurel,’ he breathed as his mouth came back to hers. He spoke her name reverently, as if in prayer.
Her shaky fingers worked at his shirt buttons as she greedily searched for his skin, slipping it over his shoulders. She pulled back from him, and she was ogling, she knew she was, but she couldn’t stop. Her hands explored his broadness, dragging a nail across his tender nipple that caused a beautiful groan. Her fingers trailed through the dusting of dark hair that started across his chest and trailed down in a tantalizing line to the top of his trousers. She pulled at the waistband, easing the button through the small hole.
Nate’s large hands circled her wrists to stop her. Oh god, had she gone too far? Had she misread this whole situation?
‘Laurel, if you don’t feel—’ A harsh swallow. ‘The same way, then I can’t. I can’t… know you and not have you. I can’t.’
Laurel’s hands cradled his face. He was beautiful, vulnerable, looking at her with worried eyes. Desperate.
‘Yes,’ she breathed, even though he hadn’t asked a question. ‘I want all of you, Nate.’
That was all he needed, because he lifted her against him, hands under her thighs and she wrapped her legs around his waist as he strode with her down the little hallway towards her bedroom. They didn’t get far because he stopped, pressed her back against the wall and let her legs slip down to the floor. Her shirt was between them so he worked at the buttons, his thighs pressed against her and oh god, she wanted him.
The shirt was discarded and he kissed greedily down her neck, pressing her against the wall, trailing his tongue over the swell of her breasts. Nate reached behind her, fiddling and pulling at her bra hook and she reached behind to help him. The bra dropped to the floor, her nipples hard and wanting, desperate for him to kiss them, lick them, bite them. He looked at her, as she had him, exploring her chest with his fingers, swirling around each sensitive – oh god, so sensitive – nipple, muttering things like ‘perfect’ and ‘oh god’ and indecipherable words meant just for him.
His mouth followed his fingers and with every nip and suck, Laurel’s hips bucked and breathy gasps came from her lips. He rolled her other nipple between his fingers and she cried out, raking her fingers across his scalp. He slid a hand over her stomach, reaching the button of her shorts. Buttons, apparently, he could undo, and as soon as he did, his fingers were gently pushing at the outside of her wet lacy underwear.
God, she was wet.
Laurel shimmied her hips and pushed her shorts and knickers down, opening her legs wider so he could have better access to her.
He bit down on her nipple as he slid a finger inside, then another, and she groaned deeply.
But when his thumb pressed lightly on her clit, she cried out and flung her head back against the wall, gasping for air.
Nate trailed his tongue down her stomach, keeping his fingers working in and out slowly, and his thumb rhythmically circling those nerves, until he reached his knees.
He undid his trousers to release his hard (and huge) cock (how was that ever going to fit inside her?), and looked up at Laurel as if asking for permission.
Oh god, yes. Yes.
Stroking his cock with the same rhythm as his fingers moving inside of her, he leaned forward.
First it was a long lick from where his fingers still curled inside her, pressing against somewhere she’d tried to find, but never had before, up to where his thumb had been. He was rewarded with a loud groan and her bunching his hair in her fist. Concentrating on that bundle of nerves, he sucked and licked, kissed and stroked. Murmurs of ‘so good’ and ‘mmm’ reached her, but she couldn’t process it, the pressure was building inside her and all she could do was grip his hair tightly and breathe, breathe, breathe.
Her legs began to tremble and he pressed into her more and more, devouring her. He was so greedy.
‘Nate, Nate,’ she breathed. ‘Stop, stop.’
He looked up at her sharply, stopping everything.
‘What’s wrong? What did I do wrong?’
‘Nothing.’ Her throat bobbed in a long swallow as she regained her composure, trying to pull herself together. ‘If you don’t stop, I’m going to come.’
A smile spread across his face.
‘Baby, that’s the idea.’
Nate adjusted himself on his knees and went back to work.
‘This is for you,’ he breathed against her wetness. ‘I want to feel you come undone… on my fingers… on my tongue… I want to taste your pleasure.’ He licked her languidly every few words and with a gentle scrape of his teeth, her legs quivered and shook. She couldn’t keep herself up. She was buckling. Nate let go of his cock to wrap his arm around her, keeping her upright. His fingers curled inside of her, and he flicked his tongue over her clit once, twice, then sucked.
Laurel cried out as she shattered around him, legs shaking and core clenching, fingers pulling at his hair.
His tongue was relentless in working her through her orgasm until she wilted, spent and sated.
Nate kissed just below her belly button and gently took his fingers out of her. She was gasping for breath, but he wasn’t finished yet. Hoisting up his trousers, he stood and scooped her up, one arm under those shaky knees and another around her back.
‘What are you doing?’ she whispered, voice raspy from her orgasm.
He kicked open the door to the bedroom.
‘I’m taking you to bed, baby,’ he said, laying her gently on the duvet cover.
Laurel fiddled in the bedside table while he got rid of his trousers and pants. With her hair splayed across the pillow she was a goddess, satisfied, relaxed, and completely his.
‘What are you looking at? Get over here,’ she said, voice dripping honey, condom between her fingers. Kneeling next to her, with his cock pointing proudly upwards, she explored, her fingers working up and down, around the smooth head, stroking from base to tip. He trembled at her touch and she smiled at the amazement that she could make him shudder like that.
‘Laurel,’ he ground out. ‘I can’t wait anymore. I want you.’
She ripped the wrapper and knelt up to kiss him hard on the mouth. She rolled the condom down his length, then squeezed his balls lightly in her hands. He moved over her and settled gently between her legs.
‘I’ll be slow… I want to remember… savour everything.’
She guided him to her entrance, canting her hips up to meet his and he pressed in, holding himself up on his elbows, moving steadily, slowly. God, yes. This was everything, she was full and needing, and pulled his lips down to hers, desperate for him. He skimmed a hand down her side, over her hip and hooked her leg over his back as he picked up pace.
‘I can’t… hold back,’ he said into the crook of her neck.
‘Then don’t,’ Laurel nipped at his neck, scratching her nails lightly down his back.
He rolled them slightly and bent his knee, angling her so he could sink into her deeper. Then he was faster and harder, saying her name over and over in breathy murmurs until he stilled, shook and shattered into a million pieces against her.