16. Cora
sixteen
cora
N ash has my body feeling relaxed and well-loved. Waking up with him wrapped around me, his warmth at my back, is something that I could certainly get used to. If this was a Victorian romance novel, I’d say that he ravished me within an inch of my life a few hours ago. The vibrator turned me on so much, and his willingness to use toys made the whole thing even more sexy.
I carefully roll over to get a better look at his face. His arms tighten around me briefly, but his eyes don’t open. For a moment, I’m mesmerized by his nautical tattoos. I picture his life growing up by the ocean, and time spent on his father’s fishing boat. The tattoos themselves are masculine and beautiful, but getting to know the stories behind them that he’s been sharing with me makes them even more meaningful.
My fingers absentmindedly trace a Kraken on his bare shoulder, mesmerized by the contrast of the dark ink and his tanned skin.
“That’s one of my favorites.”
I hadn’t even realized that Nash had woken up.
“Sorry, did I wake you?”
He kisses my lips, looking at me like I hung the moon and the stars. “No, you didn’t wake me. However, there are worse ways to wake up than having a sexy woman touching me.” He sits up, leaning against the headboard and bringing me with him. “Did you sleep well?”
“Best sleep of my life,” I say, stretching my arms above my head.
Nash gets up and walks to the bathroom completely naked, his taunt ass on full display. I take a moment to admire the delicious view.
My phone rings in my bag, which is somewhere in this room. I hate that my body still freezes at the sound. I find it on the floor by the bed and fish for it. To the surprise of no one, the call is an unknown number, which reeks of Ryan. Scrolling through my messages, I realize that he texted me a dozen times early this morning, each getting progressively angrier.
That’s it. If blocking him doesn’t stop him from contacting me, then it’s time for me to get a new number. It’s something that I should’ve done when I left, but never got around to it with traveling and working at the vet. I’ll have to pick up a new phone either later today or tomorrow. Hopefully Ryan will get the clue that we’re over and to leave me the fuck alone. I toss the phone onto the bed in frustration.
Nash emerges from the bathroom, now wearing a pair of black briefs that look way too good on him. Actually, they’d look better on the floor, but I digress.
He looks at me with open curiosity. “Is everything okay?”
A little too quickly I reply, “Yeah, everything’s fine.” It doesn’t escape me that he clearly doesn’t believe me as his eyes narrow, but thankfully he lets it go.
He offers me one of his soft t-shirts that features the Abalone Bay Fire Department logo. Then we make our way to the living room where he makes coffee, holding out a steaming cup to me. I’m never one to turn down caffeine.
Nash’s cell phone rings as he’s about to start making the coffee, and it’s Bethany. The dog he rescued is healed and healthy enough to leave the clinic. She also says that the dog isn’t microchipped, and no one in the area has reported him missing her or the police, so he’s up for adoption.
He puts the call on speaker for me as Bethany asks if he’d like a fur baby. “Seriously! Of course I’ll adopt him. Cora and I will be right there to fill out the paperwork.”
He hangs up and gives me a smile that looks like a little kid on Christmas morning, waking up to a new puppy. He whoops, rushing towards me and lifting me into his arms. We twirl around, and his excitement has me giggling.
He puts me down and we race to his bedroom to get dressed. In no time, we hop into his truck towards the clinic.
Nash practically runs through the front door when we arrive, and I can’t help but laugh at how eager he is. Ever the gentleman, he still holds the door open for me, and we spot Bethany at the front desk.
“Hey guys! Are you ready for your new furry child, Nash?”
At his enthusiastic nod, Bethany leads us back to the kennel where all of the healing animals are. I greet my little friends while Bethany opens up the Nash’s dog’s cage.
The dog sniffs the air and then takes off like a rocket towards Nash. “Hey buddy! Do you remember me?” he says with glee. Happiness radiates from his every pore as he scratches the dog behind the ears and receives sweet licks in return.
“Have you decided on a name?” I ask, bending down to receive my own slobbery kisses. “Because this cutie’s going to need an epic name?”
“I thought about it on the drive over, actually. I’d like for you both to meet Sherlock Bones, or SB for short.”
The name is perfect, just the right mix of nerdy and hilarious. Just then, Sherlock Bones barks, apparently approving of his new murder mystery themed name.
I snap dozens of photos of Nash and SB, and he insists that Bethany take a few with me in them as well, claiming he needs a new background on his phone.
After filling out some paperwork, and Bethany updating the brand new microchip with Nash’s information and my own—which he also insists on—we’re back in his truck with a very happy SB between us. I swear he’s smiling, just like his new daddy.