Chapter 12
CARA
Iwoke up bathed in gray light with my bed moving under me. A few seconds later I opened my eyes and stared over at the most beautiful man I’d ever seen, sitting in the driver’s seat of my car with his eyes fixed on the road.
Damn it. I was falling for Nick Roman. And it wasn’t because of his pretty face.
Well, not only because of it. The man liked my art.
He’d zip-tied my asshole ex to a steering wheel.
He’d held me when I’d burst into tears, not because of what had happened yesterday but because of what had happened over the past five months and even the seven years before that.
And he hadn’t once made me feel like an idiot for my poor life choices.
In fact, he’d done the exact opposite, and had shared his own painful past to make me feel better.
My heart jumped into my throat as I realized just how deep and fast I was falling.
And hadn’t I…? Yes, I had. I’d admitted my feelings to Nick last night.
And I remembered him saying the word “same”.
The problem—one of many problems, actually—was that I didn’t know whether that had actually happened or I’d dreamt it.
That left me with only one option. I’d have to ignore that it had ever happened.
I sat up and stretched, and pretended I didn’t catch him stealing sideways glimpses of me arching my back and lifting my arms over my head. “Are we in Oklahoma?” I asked.
“Crossed the state line about ten minutes ago.” He grinned. “You really do sleep like the dead.”
“But the important question is did I snore?”
He winked at me and my heart stopped for a couple of seconds. “A gentleman never tells.”
I swallowed hard to keep my tongue from lolling out of my mouth. Note to self: waking up next to Nick, even if we weren’t in a bed, made me horny as hell.
“I’ll take that as a no,” I said, hoping he didn’t notice how turned on I was.
He threw his head back and laughed, which only made it worse.
The man found me funny. He’d laughed enough over the past few days to prove it wasn’t a fluke.
We shared the same sense of humor. That was nearly as powerful an aphrodisiac as staring at his perfect profile with his chiseled jaw-line covered in scruff.
“I’m sure you’re starving,” he said.
“What?” Did he know what I was thinking, after all?
“Given your love of breakfast,” he clarified.
“Yeah, I’ll pass.”
“I figured,” he said. “We’ll reach the hotel I booked last night in about an hour. We can take showers. If you want, you can grab a few hours of sleep in a bed.”
I shook my head. There were many things I wanted to do in a bed at that moment, but sleep wasn’t one of them. No way was I going to lie down anywhere in his vicinity and trust myself not to beg him to join me. “No need. I’ve had plenty of sleep. You must be exhausted, though.”
“Getting tired, but I’m good for a few more hours. The next town on your photo shoot list will come up an hour after the hotel. I’ll stay awake long enough for that, then catch some shut-eye on the drive.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
“Have you made any decisions about what you’ll do after that, now that we’ve re-routed?”
“Working on it.” It wasn’t a lie, exactly, but I if there was ever going to be a time to state my case for sticking to our original route, this was it.
Then Nick turned up the stereo and I realized there’d been classical music playing since I’d woken up.
“This is beautiful,” I said. “Do you know what it is?”
“Third movement of Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata.”
“I take it you’re a fan of classical music.”
“I am,” he said, “which is lucky because it’s all I heard for at least the first five years of my life.” He smiled as he glanced at me. “My mother was a musician.”
“Really?” No wonder he understood the artist’s life despite his own very practical career. “Did she play piano?”
“She studied it growing up and again in conservatory, but she was a singer. She made her living directing professional choirs and privately coaching opera singers.”
“That’s amazing. You said made her living. Is she retired?”
He kept his gaze straight ahead and gave a quick shake of his head.
The weight of his admission crushed the air out of my lungs.
“Both my parents died twenty years ago.”
“I’m sorry,” I choked out.
“It was a long time ago, but thank you.”
He’d said he was in a bad place when he’d met his wife. I hadn’t imagined it was that terrible.
Him opening up to me, even such a small amount, undid me. “You don’t tell many people that, do you?”
“In the last five years, I’ve told three people. Henry, Mason, and now you.”
Knowing Mason and having heard of Henry, and realizing how much both men meant to the retired vets they helped, I understood what an honor it was to stand amongst them as one of Nick’s confidantes. “Thank you for trusting me enough to tell me.”
He smiled at me. “Well, you promised you’re a good listener, so...” He cleared his throat. “What about you? Any musicians or other artists in your family?”
I had so many questions about his tragedy, but he wasn’t ready to share the details. I followed his lead. “Not a one. Mom’s COO of a tech company and Dad’s a forensic accountant. My brother teaches freshman math at U Penn. But enough about me. Back to you. Did you ever study music?”
Was that pink flush of his ears a blush? “I did. I started with piano.”
“Were you any good? Do you still play?”
“I was okay. I’ve barely played in years. But I learned it during my formative years, so some of the skills are still in my fingers.”
I arched an eyebrow. “So, talented hands.”
He smiled, then covered it. We both let the innuendo hang in the air.
“You continue to surprise me,” I finally said.
“I aim to please.” He slid a sultry, sideways glance full of naked lust.
I had to take a few deep breaths before I could speak again. I finally asked, “Anything else I should know about your musical career?”
“Hmm. Well, I studied voice. Mom wanted me to be an operatic tenor. Unfortunately for her, my vocal cords had other ideas and I was a baritone by the time I was a high school junior. And I didn’t love opera. Listening to it, yes. Performing it, hell no.”
“Would you sing something for me?”
He was quiet for so long, I assumed he wasn’t going to answer. He surprised me when he said, “I would. Not at this hour in the morning. But someday, I will.”
I wanted that day to be as soon as possible.
And hearing him sing wasn’t the only thing on my Nick to-do list. The things I’d learned about him in the past fifteen hours had blown my mind.
But they hadn’t changed my feelings for him.
They’d only clarified and intensified them.
And the words and looks we’d shared this morning had thrown gasoline on the sparks between us.
I might get hurt and it was probably a bad idea and we’d definitely both agreed anything romantic was off-limits.
But I was hellbent on renegotiating the terms of our travel arrangement from friendly to friends-with-the-best-kind-of-benefits.
What happened on the road could stay on the road.
Or we could pretend it never happened. Or we could shout it from the rooftops. I didn’t care.
For whatever time we had left together on this trip, I just wanted Nick.