Chapter 23
23
Natalie
Nick. Christiansen.
I bite my lip just thinking about him, wishing I was biting his bottom lip instead. I’d settle for his shoulder or his bicep. Definitely his earlobe, because I notice he shivers and then always kisses me right after when I do it. I don’t even think he’s aware of some of his habits. I hope he never breaks them.
He has me acting like a teen again. The excitement to see him is so overwhelming that I could make a fool of myself in front of all of Manhattan and not give a damn.
And that’s exactly what I do the moment I see him. I set my cocktail down and dash through the crowd. Landing against his hard body, I sigh when those strong arms lift me off the ground. A deep chuckle runs through his chest before reaching my ears, and I can readily admit I’m addicted to the sound.
I’m addicted to all of him.
I’ve never felt sexier than when he looks at me and smiles like I just made his day better. Hell, his life better than before we met. It’s as if the safest place in the world is in his arms because he holds me like I’m precious cargo. Unless it’s sexual and then my body purrs under his touch. When he listens to me, even when I’m rambling, I feel valued by asking questions and participating. I don’t have one-sided conversations with Nick. I feel so much, so strongly that I could probably die happy because he makes me feel more than good enough for the first time in my life. I’m above the bar in his eyes, and he’s tops for me.
And it all came so quickly.
Does time matter when you know it’s right? When your soul feels so connected to someone else that it comes alive for the first time? I’ve stopped worrying about timelines and what’s considered responsible. I act based on how he makes me feel— cherished —and now live accordingly.
“He said yes,” I say when Nick sets me on my feet again.
“Who?”
“Nick, your idea. It totally worked.”
Chuckling, he says, “Can I take credit for an idea when I’m not sure what you’re referring to?”
I take his hand and lead him back to where I left my belongings at the bar. “Our table isn’t ready, so I thought we could have a drink while waiting to celebrate what a great team we make.”
“I’m all for celebrating us, but fill me in on the details?”
When the bartender looks my way, I circle my finger in the air for another round and then turn back to Nick, my gorgeous boyfriend. My happiness can’t be contained, and it’s not just because I made a client happy, but because we’re working. We took a chance on each other, and it’s paying off. I’m not sure I can imagine life getting much better, but when he moves here full-time, I bet he proves me wrong.
I say, “The cookies. You were right. I was definitely overthinking it. Guys aren’t complicated. They love cookies, and I found out brownies go a long way toward earning points with men who can buy anything. Because what they don’t do is think of the simpler things in life, the little joys, the things that make you remember something special from your childhood.”
“And baked goods do that?”
“They did this time, and that’s what counts. My client got the guy, the biggest player in town, and he even asked her to move in.”
“That’s all it took?”
“I’m sure there’s more to the story, but it’s fun to be a small part of making it happen. Who knew baked treats held so much power? Not me, but I do now.”
He leans down and kisses my forehead. “I do love your treats.”
“Stop,” I say, dragging out the O a little longer. Oh, how I love a long and tingly O. Swatting his chest and then pulling him closer, I coo, “Go on . . .”
When two rum and Cokes are set on the bar before us, I’m easily distracted and hand him one. I take the other and tap the rim against his glass. “I didn’t make a lot of money, but I think I’ve discovered an additional revenue stream. All this time, I was catering to the socialites and bigwigs of New York—millionaires, billionaires, and pretty much anyone who can afford my rates—but I was overlooking an important component of the gift-giving business. After discussing it with Tatum this afternoon, we decided we need a mid-range line of services. Sure, I can organize a private jet to the Maldives for the weekend or pick up that Lamborghini someone’s husband has always dreamed of owning. The royalties are phenomenal, but those aren’t as common. So if we hire somebody, we can have them cater to our wealthy clientele but offer them something they’re not used to getting.”
His hand is distracting as it rubs circles on my hip. Such a tease . . . He asks, “And what is that?”
“Home. They’re so used to jet-setting that they’ve forgotten about the creature comforts of home. Stockings hung from the mantel on Christmas Eve, private cooking lessons for a romantic evening in. Or sharing that perfect bottle of Chateau Margaux by the fire on a cold winter’s night. Though that’s one hell of an expensive bottle of wine, you get where I’m going with this. My clients are used to the finer things in life, but they’ve forgotten what matters.”
A spark of pride lies in his eyes. “And what matters, Natalie?”
“Us, and building a life together, family, friends, and being surrounded by the people you love.” I don’t know why embarrassment creeps through me, but I look down at the drink in my hand, wishing the heat in my cheeks would disappear. With my heart on my sleeve, I peek up at him. “Do I sound crazy?”
“No, you sound like a woman who knows what she wants and has a plan to get it.”
“Why does it sound bad when women are ambitious? Like it’s a dirty word or something.”
“It’s not to me.” Brushing the backs of his fingers across my cheek, he lowers his voice, and says, “It’s incredibly sexy. Your excitement is intoxicating.” Tapping his glass to mine, he says, “Here’s to you.”
I feel his voice vibrating deep inside me, my heart clinging to the words of support.
We drink but don’t have time for another before the hostess finds us to lead us to our table. After ordering our meals, I lean closer, hating that there’s a table between us. I’d rather be next to him or, even better, on his lap. Why’d I insist on going out when being alone with him is so deliciously divine? To distract myself from lunging across this table and settling onto his lap, I ask, “How was your day?”
The smile I love so much doesn’t bring joy to his eyes or reveal his dimples this time, making me wonder what’s on his mind. After looking around the room, his hazel eyes land back on me, making me feel special like I’m the only one he truly sees.
He asks, “Can you do your job remotely, or do you need to be in New York?”
“A bit of both, and also it depends on when. Sometimes I need to be here to fine-tune details for clients, but otherwise, I do a lot over email and phone. Why?”
“Well, I want to know if you'd like to come to California? Thinking for a weekend, or if you can work remotely, however long you’d like. My family has a beach house, so I was thinking we could stay there. It’s not much, more like a bungalow, but it’s pretty great. That’s where I go when I want to get away, or I’m looking to surf.”
This time, he’s the one leaning closer. Lowering his voice, he continues, “I’d like you to meet my parents and my brother.” He appears to back away from the offer as he leans back in his chair. The light that flickered in his eyes when he asked has disappeared. “Only if you want.”
Studying him, I can tell something is off—his eyes are wandering as much as his thoughts appear to be. The distance between us feels like it’s growing larger than the wood table, but I try not to let it bother me. I’m probably reading too much into it anyway. “You want to introduce me to your family?”
“My mom is excited to meet you.”
“It’s so sweet that you talk to her about me.”
“Have you mentioned to me to your family?”
Now I feel bad. Lowering my voice, I reply, “I’m always honest with you, so I’m not going to lie or make up an excuse. The thing is, my parents saw me go through a terrible relationship. Tatum has witnessed me at my lowest, when I believed that I was no good for anyone and lucky to have him. So the truth is, Tatum knows, as you’ve seen, but I was planning to introduce you to my parents and brother.” When he doesn’t say anything, I add, “We have a family dinner once a month, and I was going to ask if you wanted to join me in two weeks.”
“But you haven’t mentioned me?”
“I don’t talk to them all the time. They’re busy, and I’m busy. If you said yes, I was going to tell them I’d be bringing a date.” I take a sip of the rum and then say, “If you said no, I’d wait until we’ve been dating a bit longer. I don’t like to disappoint them. But to be fair, I believed we’d work out, so I haven’t had a doubt about dinner with them and you meeting them then.”
He smirks. “You believe we’ll work out?”
I turn away, not letting him win, but when I grin, too, I know he does anyway. “Did I just open a can of worms?”
“You did.” He reaches over and takes my hand. “I really don’t care that you haven’t talked to them about us. We’re newer, and when you’ve been burned by someone you cared about, it’s always best to take the next relationship in stride.” He takes his glass in hand and says, “Here’s to getting it right this time.”
“To getting it right.” Our eyes are fixed on each other as we drink. Lowering the glass back down, I say, “Tell me more about this beach house in California.”
“It’s one of my favorite places in the world. Wait until you see that water.”
We eat, the conversation lighter, but I have this weird feeling he’s holding back. Since he never answered prior, I ask, “What’s on your mind?”
The smile I expect to see doesn’t arrive. He spins the glass around with his deft fingers, the distance creeping between us. Whispering over the table, I add, “Nick, are you going to talk to me?”
“About?”
“About what’s on your mind. Did something happen?”
He rearranges his napkin on his lap and then sits up again as if he remembered he was in public. “The company is expanding to the Pacific Northwest. If they get the deal they want.” Adjusting the cuffs of his sleeves, he drops that bomb and then plays like that didn’t just happen.
But I’m still trying to read between the lines. “If everything is going so well, why are you concerned?”
Drinking, he finishes the rest of the alcohol before setting the glass back down. “You’re right. Things are going well. We targeted New York. Seattle is an unexpected opportunity, but it would poise us for the growth goals we’re aiming for. Just a fast track to reaching them. I just thought . . . Well, I thought New York was enough for now.”
I stare at him, noticing how little eye contact he’s made. My gaze dips to his hand again to find him still spinning that glass. Nick has tells, and the glass is one of them. He’s holding back, not giving me the full story. I can’t help but wonder why, so I try a different tactic. “I like the apartment. When do you think you’ll move in?” I ask, testing which direction the waters of his mood flow in.
The check is delivered, and he’s quick to take it. “Dinner was good.”
I toss my napkin on the plate. “It was. Now, what’s going on?”
“I was thrown by a comment my brother made earlier.”
I rest my arms on the table just as my mom taught me not to do, but stress makes me forget my proper upbringing. “Then talk to me.”
“Can we talk in California after two days of nakedness?” He laughs, and I’m glad to see there isn’t doubt in his eyes. I roll my eyes and giggle. He’s a sweet goof. But he is still restless.
The bill with his credit card inside is swiped by the server from the table as she passes. “While two days of nakedness sounds amazing . . . and you want me to meet your family?—”
“I do.”
Rolling my eyes, I say, “You and those I do’s. It’s like you can’t get it out of your system.”
“Not until I say it for real, I suppose.”
Mimicking his body language, I sit back again and cross my arms over my chest. “I’d like to meet your family on one condition.” When I have his interest piqued, I say, “You have to tell me what you want to talk about in California.”
He shifts forward, lowering his arms, his guard, and his voice. “I don’t want it to ruin tonight since nothing’s set in stone.”
“Your mind’s been elsewhere throughout dinner. I’d rather talk about it than leave it hanging out there between us.”
He nods. “I’m sorry. You deserved better than that. We’re here to celebrate?—”
“We’re here to be together before you have to leave again.” This time, I reach over and run the tips of my fingers over the top of his hand. “I want to hear what’s going on in your world. That’s not ruining anything. It’s communicating and sharing the burden.”
Staring into my eyes, he smirks. “I’m the luckiest guy alive. You’re amazing, you know that?”
“You can show me later, but right now, spill.”
“My brother suggested I might be better utilized in Seattle.”
I lean forward in a panic. “Versus New York?”
“Yes.”
“And? What about our plans and you being here?”
“You’ve been honest with me, so I’ll be honest with you. I’m feeling caught between you and my family. Nothing’s decided yet, but that me moving there was tossed out so easily bothers me.”
Sitting back, I look around at the restaurant, noticing couples and families, friends, and what appear to be business associates enjoying their meals. The atmosphere is energized with joy, making me realize Nick does that for me. I say, “I don’t want you to feel caught in the middle.”
“I know. It’s not something you put on me. It’s something I’m doing to myself.” Pushing his plate out of the way, he rests his arm on the table, seemingly frustrated. “I’m a beach guy. I surf. I hang out. I’m not that hard to please, but then I met you again, and I started reevaluating things. I want to be with you, Natalie, and I’m willing to move to be with you. But where does that leave me in the long-term?”
“With a girlfriend who loves you.”
The most genuine smile I’ve ever seen arrives just in time, soothing my frantic heart when I needed it most. He reaches around the plates and places his hand palm up. I slip mine on top, always marveling at the perfect fit. Nick says, “I love you too. That’s why I want you to come to California and meet my family. I want to spend a few days with you at the beach with nothing to do but make love and cook out on the patio.”
“Sounds like my kind of place, but where does Seattle stand?”
“Honestly, I don’t know. It was mentioned in passing today, so I haven’t really had time to ask more questions and find out whether my dad believes it’s a complete relocation or something I can manage remotely at times. My guess? Whatever’s decided, they’ll survive without me living there full time. I can travel from here to there just as easily as I can from LA.”
“Apparently, you’re not familiar with our airports.” He chuckles at the joke and holds my hand a little tighter. I’ve not ever thought about leaving Manhattan to live anywhere else other than Paris during my senior year of high school. I got over that when I realized it will always be there for me to visit. But Nick has me considering what I’d do for love, for us. “Whatever is decided, we’ll make it work, and I can’t wait to introduce you to my family.”