Chapter 6
Chapter 6
I sat, waiting at Alessandro’s Café, pushing my hair behind my ears several times, eyeing the entranceway. I had two lattes in front of me, remembering Nash had ordered one on our date last weekend. I had hoped it may soften him toward me after that whole botched-kiss thing the last time I saw him.
I had texted both Blaze and Coleman, thanking them for the dates and telling them I had decided not to see them again. I said I hoped there were no hard feelings, although in Coleman’s case, I imagine he already had a voodoo doll of me with a fully sharpened pack of pins at the ready.
Blaze had texted me back, telling me I could work out with him whenever I wanted, but Coleman had gone into total radio silence. I could hardly blame him after what I’d done. I was ashamed, just thinking about it.
To meet Nash, I had purposefully chosen a canine-free location. Not that I had anything against Dexter. He was a great dog, I just wasn’t so keen on being reminded of the dog-slobber situation that had caused this furor in the first place.
Although Nash had clearly been reluctant to meet me, I told him I needed to explain something. Of course, I had no intention of telling him the actual truth about why I ended our date so abruptly. What would have been the point in that? Instead, I’d made up a story about receiving an urgent, worrying message that had caused me to have to leave suddenly. It seemed convincing enough to me, and I hoped he’d buy it so we could move on.
Finally, a good eleven minutes late—I mean, how rude!—those hamsters turned up in my belly and began scuttling around again the moment I spotted Nash walk through the café door. He was wearing the same work combo of shorts, T-shirt, and work boots he was in the day I met him. Only this time, when his eyes landed on me, he wasn’t smiling.
As he approached our table, I stood up to greet him, a smile placed firmly on my face. I had deliberated for hours over what to wear, not knowing what an “I’m sorry for getting freaked out over the dog saliva and would you like to go on another date with me” outfit looked like. In the end, I’d settled on my favorite navy pencil skirt, a cute pale pink blouse, and a pair of heels—it was a work day, after all.
“Hi, Nash. You look great.” I beamed at him, trying my best to ignore the growing tension in my head.
“Thanks,” he replied. Still no smile.
Without me inviting him, he sat down in the chair opposite me. I sat slowly down in my own chair, pushing my hair behind my ear once more, despite the fact it was very firmly there already.
It’s going to be like that, is it?
After an awkward moment, during which Nash simply looked at me as though he was taking my measure, he said, “I was surprised to hear from you.”
“Really?” I squeaked. “I had a great time on our date.”
He cocked an eyebrow. “You did?”
“Oh, yes. You’re great, Dexter’s great, the restaurant was great. It was all . . .” I searched my mind for the correct word.
“Great?” Nash offered.
“Exactly. Great.”
“Ah-huh,” he said, clasping his hands together on the table. “So, how about the end of the date? Was that ‘great’ too?”
I shot him a puzzled look, pretending I didn’t know what he was referring to: Dog Slobbergate.
“The kiss.” His voice was low, quiet—pretty darn sexy, under different circumstances, actually.
I cleared my throat, distinctly uncomfortable. He was being very direct. “Ah, yes. That.” I averted my eyes as my cheeks began to heat up.
“What was it? Technique? Attraction? Had you friend zoned me or something? But then, if you’d done that, you wouldn’t have asked me on a second date, right?” He furrowed his brow. “Would you?”
I let out a puff of air. “Look, the thing is, I had a message that was very worrying and I had to leave, quickly. It had nothing to do with you, or Dexter, or anything.” I let out a breath I hadn’t known I was holding.
“With Dexter?” he questioned, looking more confused than he was before.
“Yes! It was nothing to do with Dexter.” My voice had become unnaturally high. Why had I mentioned Dexter? I didn’t need to, I hadn’t rehearsed it. Mentioning Dexter just raised questions in Nash’s mind, questions I didn’t want to have to answer.
“Look, if you don’t like my dog, then we’re done here.” He pushed his chair out from the table with a screech when the chrome of the chair scraped across the polished tiled floor. He straightened up, ready to leave.
“Nash, don’t go! Please. I’ll, I’ll tell you the truth.”
Without sitting, he replied, “All right.”
“Please sit down. Please.”
He studied my face for a moment before, thankfully, plunking himself back down on the chair.
My smile denied the nerves rattling around inside me.
“Shoot,” he instructed.
I swallowed. “Well, here’s the thing. I . . . I was a little put off by the . . .”
“The what?”
I scrunched up my face. “By the dog saliva.” I looked up into his eyes, nervously awaiting his response.
He let out a short, sharp laugh. “The dog saliva?” He shook his head, leaning in toward me. “Marissa, what are you talking about?”
“Well, you may not remember this, but Dexter licked you on the lips just before you kissed me, and it . . . it kind of bothered me.”
I watched as he leaned back in his chair, roaring with laughter. My eyes darted around the room as people at nearby tables turned to look at us. I smiled at them, hoping Nash’s amusement would abate.
Eventually, after what felt like a long time, he rested his chin on his fist. “That’s why you didn’t want to kiss me, because you thought Dex had licked my lips?”
I gave him a weak nod. “I thought maybe it might have worked its way into your mouth, too.”
He shook his head, a fresh smile teasing the edges of his mouth. “Marissa, Dex didn’t lick my lips, and his saliva didn’t get anywhere near my mouth. Granted, he licked my face, but that was an accident that sometimes happens with dogs, especially ones as affectionate as Dex.”
“Are you sure he didn’t get them? Not even the edge or something?”
“Marissa, I don’t know what sort of guys you’ve dated in the past, but I’m not in the habit of French kissing dogs.” He shook his head, chuckling to himself. “Hand on heart.” He placed his hand on his chest and shot me a serious look—well, as serious as he could right now.
I almost sighed. He was more like Jon Snow than ever before. I could half imagine him in black robes, a manly scowl on his face as he plotted how to save The North from the Night Walkers. I sighed.
When I didn’t respond immediately, Nash’s eyebrow shot up again in question.
“All right, I can accept that. You didn’t have any dog slobber on your mouth.” I returned his smile, my anxiety receding.
“You had a little freak-out there, didn’t you?”
I nodded, embarrassed.
“Do you do that a lot?”
“No, of course not,” I replied, indignant.
He narrowed his eyes. “That’s a lie, isn’t it?”
“No?” I chanced.
He shook his head, chuckling. He reached across the table and found my hand. Holding it in his, he said in a low voice, “I like you, Marissa.” I nodded, my mouth suddenly dry. “How about you tell me the next time something bothers you and we’ll deal with it?”
There was going to be a next time? Those hamsters started up a tap-dancing routine in my belly. “Okay.”
“Good.” He still held my hand in his, and I liked the feeling. It was a strong, warm hand, the kind of hand you could rely on. “In that case, would you mind if we tried it again?”
“Tried what again?”
“This.” He put his fingers under my chin and gently lifted my face so we were looking into one another’s eyes. I swallowed down a lump in my throat. He leaned over the small table and gently brushed his lips against mine, right there and then, in the café, in front of everyone.
And I didn’t care, not one little bit.
And you know why? It felt good. No, scratch that, it felt amazing . He slipped his hand around the back of my head, and I breathed in his scent. I was lost in our kiss, the world around me a blur of voices and music and unidentifiable sounds, merging into nothing.
He pulled away from me, his eyes dancing. “Better?”
I swear, I saw stars.
“Better,” I confirmed breathlessly, while inside my brain yelled “Best kiss ever!” and my toes curled in my shoes.
He nodded at me, sitting back in his chair. “Good. I assume that means the freak-out is over?”
I bit back a smile. “Oh, yes.”
He let out a soft laugh. If I’d known Nash could kiss like that, I don’t think I would have freaked out in the first place. Okay, maybe I would have, but I wouldn’t have wanted to.
“Is that for me?” he asked, gesturing at the cups of coffee on the table.
“Oh, yes! I’d totally forgotten. I got you a latte.”
He picked the cup up and took a sip. “Mm, cold coffee. My favorite.”
We grinned at one another, enjoying our rediscovered closeness.
He finished his coffee in a couple of short gulps and placed the cup back on the saucer. “So, now we’ve got that sorted out, I know you work at AGD, but what exactly do you do that means you get to dress up like Miss Moneypenny for work?”
My cheeks heated up. “I’m an account manager.”
“Oh. Is that like being an accountant?”
I shook my head. “No, I’m in sales. I sell telecommunications solutions to businesses. I’ve been doing it for a while, and I really like it.”
“That’s impressive,” he replied with a smile as the heat continued to rise in my cheeks. “I’m glad you’re not an accountant. Aren’t they boring as hell?”
I laughed. “I don’t know.”
“I don’t, either, but I’ve totally bought into the whole urban myth about dull accountants, so it’s just as well you’re in sales, instead.”
“Just as well.” I smiled at him, as something moved in my chest.
This is good, this is very good.
My phone buzzed insistently on the table between us. “Sorry,” I muttered as I flipped it over. I read the reminder, telling me I had a team meeting back at the office in ten minutes. Dammit! That’s what you got for making dates in the middle of the work day.
“I’ve got to go,” I said, wishing I didn’t have to.
“That’s too bad. I’ll walk you out.”
We wandered out of the café and out onto the street where we stopped and turned to face one another.
“I’m really pleased you called,” Nash said, smiling down at me and taking my hand in his.
“Me too. Thanks for . . . not thinking I’m crazy.”
He laughed. “Oh, I didn’t say that .”
I whacked him playfully on the arm. “Well, then.” I looked up into his blue eyes.
“Well, then,” he echoed, gazing so intently at me, my heart rate kicked up about a gazillion notches.
He slipped his free hand up my arm and onto my shoulder. “You know how we did that thing in there, the thing you seemed to like?”
I nodded, my throat turning dry.
“If it’s okay with you, I’d like to do it some more. A lot more.”
“Me too.”
And then he leaned down and did it again, he kissed my socks off. Well, not that I was wearing any socks, because on a grown woman in corporate clothes, that would just look weird. But if I were wearing any socks, they would have been well and truly kissed off me by this gorgeous man, right there on the sidewalk.
“Can I see you this weekend?” he asked.
“That would be nice.”
“I’ll text you.”
With great reluctance, I tore myself away from him, turned and walked down the street. My heart felt like it could burst right out of my chest. I had made the right decision. Nash was the man for me. He liked me and accepted me for my crazy freak-out ways.
And oh, my! What a kisser!
Perhaps he was The One after all? Perhaps this was going to work? Perhaps this had been my Last Second Date?