Chapter 35
35
Nick
Six months later . . .
Tomorrow turned into forever.
Not legally. At least not yet. Emotionally. Universally. Spiritually. Our souls have already committed. Sure, we skipped a few steps in the making-up process. I don’t think anyone is surprised by that.
Something else that won’t come as a shock is that we didn’t pass over reconnecting physically. We’ve ended up right back where we started—in each other’s arms. But Natalie has a theory—we were great before the contract debacle. So I’ve promised not to let her distract me when dealing with business, and she’s promised not to walk around naked when I’m working from home.
Seemed like a good deal at the time. As she would say, spoiler alert: It sucks. I miss her gracing me with her bare body while I’m working. She has always been a fantastic distraction. It may have gotten us in trouble, but the time apart made us realize that we were worth fighting for and that we’re in this for the long haul of life, plus forever.
I can’t think of a better way to spend eternity than holding this beauty in my arms. Her fingers trace letters on my chest. I’m supposed to be guessing what she’s spelling, but my lids are heavy, exhausted from a long day at the office and then our activity tonight. She asks, “Any guesses?”
“No,” I reply, half-asleep.
“With you.”
I like her answer. Peeking an eye open, I look down at her snuggled to my side. “What was the question?”
“You once asked me where I want to live. My answer is with you , wherever that may be. That’s the only place I care to be.” She’s the most forgiving person I know. I know that wound of betrayal ran deep, but she believed me, and I’ll never forget that. I’d never purposely hurt her, though, and she realizes that as well.
“I discovered where I’m meant to be. That’s with you.”
“Sweet-talker.”
“Sweet on you, but can we sneak in a nap? I have plans for you later and I’m hoping to wake up early to go for a run with you in the morning. All this pasta you’ve been cooking is packing on the pounds.”
Her hand runs over my abs. I tense them for her. She lifts up to see my eyes and says, “You literally don’t have an ounce of fat on you.”
“I’m hard for you.”
“And here I thought I did a good job of wearing you out.” She sits up to get out of bed, but I catch her hand.
“Don’t leave me.”
“Ever, or just not to the bathroom? I’m hoping you mean in the forever sense because I really need to go.”
I release her, chuckling, and ogle that incredible ass of hers. Grabbing her pillow, I cover my face and inhale her lingering scent deep into my lungs. If the perfect wave had a scent, it would smell like Natalie. I don’t even care how creepy that seems.
She’s gone just long enough for me to doze off. When she climbs back into the middle of the bed, I turn to hold her. It’s our favorite way to fall asleep, and just like in Catalina, I find peace with her.
“Nick?”
“Hm?” I mumble.
“I don’t want to go back to New York without you.”
Lifting my head from the mattress, I crack my eyes open again. “I wanted to talk to you about that.” I’m exhausted, but I hate that look of worry in her eyes.
She replies, “Now, if you’re not too tired.”
“I’m never too tired for you.” I rub the corners of my eyes and sneak out a yawn before moving to sit up. I had hoped for a nap before the big plan, but this is more important. She is more important than anything else.
She slides up next to me, and we rest against the headboard with the sheet covering us. I take her hand, and our fingers fall, locking together. I ask, “Do you want to start, or do you want me to go first?”
“You go first.” The quiet manner isn’t fitting for a woman so vividly Technicolor to my bland world.
“I’m supposed to have a call with Andrew and my father this week to discuss if they want me to stay in Seattle or if it’s time to go. Do you want to share your thoughts with me?”
“You know I want you in New York. There’s never been a question about that. It’s just a matter of if you want to live on the West or East Coast and the pros and cons of that.”
“Maybe we need to do a pros and cons list for moving to New York. Pro: we’ll be together all the time. Another pro is your job. It’s important to you and to me. I don’t know if you want to relocate and take your company with you or expand into new territory. I’ll help you no matter what you decide.”
“Con: you don’t have the Pacific Ocean to surf in every morning. Con: you won’t need your Range Rover in the city. Con: you’ll be away from your family.”
I bring her hand to my mouth and kiss it. “Look, the pros for me are cons for you. The cons for me are pros for you. Let’s forget lists. I don’t care about the Pacific, but I’m madly in love with you, Natalie. And if you’re in Manhattan, then that’s where I’ll be.”
“This is all well and good, but I want you happy. Does the New York office even have an opening?”
Smirking, I reply, “It just so happens they never filled Garrett Stans’s position.”
Her lips are tugged to the side and pursed. Shaking her head, she glares as if he’s right in front of her. “That rat bastard.”
I get the anger, but I’ve let it go more than she has. I don’t blame her. I’ve had more time to live with the truth of what really happened. “I might have inquired about the job last month and suggested they leave it open a while longer.”
She curls around me, draping her leg over mine and leaning against me. “Love makes people do crazy things.” Looking up at me, she adds, “We’ve done the long-distance thing, me working from here as much as possible, spending every long weekend we could together. I don’t want to spend my days apart anymore. This might be the most selfish thing I’ve ever said, but I want you with me in New York. All the time.”
I tap her nose. “Be careful what you wish for.”
“Oh no, no. I’m not letting wishes, destiny determine anything, and I’m not leaving it up to fate any longer.” Sitting up, she cups my face, squishing my cheeks. “I love you, Nick. I’m ready for the next stage with you.”
That’s good to hear. She may have given up on destiny, but I’m a firm believer.
I didn’t give Natalie the love story she deserved the first or second time around, but destiny gave me a helpful shove in the ass the third time, and I won’t mess it up. I reach over to the nightstand and pull out the small velvet box.
“This may not be the top of the Empire State Building or on the beach in Malibu. But this is me, nude at the moment, but let’s overlook that aspect.”
Sitting up a little straighter to get a good gander, she dips her gaze down my body, and says, “That’s not easy to do. Compliments to you.” She chef kisses her fingers and winks.
“Though I appreciate the accolade, I saw this going differently.” I start to open the box. But she leans forward, the sheet slipping down, revealing her torso. So beautifully distracting. “You know, I have bad timing.” What was I thinking? I’m sex drunk and all feely. She deserves more. I snap the box closed, refusing to blow my plan. “Let’s do this another time.”
“What? No!” She practically lunges across the bed, grappling for the ring. “Let’s do it now. I’ll be good. No nudity. No jokes. I’m listening.”
I set it on the dresser. “It’s not you. It’s me. I got caught up in the moment.” Grabbing my boxers from the floor, I pull them on.
“It’s okay,” she says, eyeing me.
Her hair is messy, sexy, and her makeup-free face has me wishing I could steal a few more minutes kissing her, but we need to get going. “We have dinner reservations in an hour. We should probably start getting ready.”
That perks her up, and a big smile is flashed. “We do?” She peeks at the ring box and then nods with a squinted eye. “Oh, all right. Yes, I see now.” Clicking her tongue, she adds, “Gotcha.”
“Do you? Because it looks like something is in your eye.”
She rolls her eyes and climbs out of bed. “Very funny. I get the shower first for that comment.”
Rubbing my thumb over my bottom lip, I admire her backside. “My pleasure. Truly.”
Maybe I’m an asshole for making her wait, but she has me doing the stupidest shit without thinking. This time, I want to do it right.
* * *
Holding her hand in the elevator, I can’t take my eyes off her. She’s stunning—her blond hair reminiscent of old Hollywood—sleek with a soft wave cascading in the front, meeting a deep blue spaghetti-strap top that matches her eyes.
And there are those damn tight jeans I thought we burned on the beach one night at the bungalow. Burning her favorite pair was an accident. She didn’t forgive me until I tracked down another pair in Paris and had them shipped over.
Her pink lips and eyes with dark eye shadow have captivated me. I’m tempted to skip the evening affair and take her back upstairs. But the doors slide open, and we’re already walking.
Stopping shy of the revolving door, I glance at her. She’s already staring at me, and asks, “I say we do. What’s the worst that can happen? We get stuck for a few minutes?” She wraps her arm around mine, and says, “Come on. Time to conquer this fear.”
She steps right into it as if she has something to prove. Since I don’t want to squash her, I let the glass slide behind her and step into the next compartment. All is great and we’re moving.
Until we’re not, and I run into the glass, smacking my chin on it. “Damn it.”
Whipping around to find me, she’s like a mime stuck in a box, palming the glass looking to escape. “Nick?”
“It’s okay. It’s okay. Stand in the middle.” I give the brass railing a hard shove. The door gives and then seems to lock back.
A security guard races over and tries to pull the next door. When he’s unsuccessful, I hold up my phone and point at it, not sure if he can hear me well or not. “Can you call maintenance, please?”
He runs to the desk and picks up the phone.
* * *
This is not how I saw our night going. In the next compartment, Natalie sits on the ground leaning her back to the curved glass wall. We’ve been sending each other memes to pass the time until help arrives. It’s been over an hour.
I already canceled our reservation since they couldn’t hold it and had nothing else available.
Natalie’s gone to spelling things on the glass and having me guess. I say, “Will.”
She shakes her head and starts spelling another word. I guess, “You.”
Annoyed, she says, “Watch my fingers, Nick.”
I watch, but to her dismay, my next guess of marry doesn’t work for her. And she still doesn’t get it. I’ve given up trying for something unforgettable to ask for her hand in marriage. Being stuck in this damn revolving door is pretty unforgettable. “Me?” I ask.
“Nick, are you playing or not? You’re totally wrong.”
“Depends who you ask. It’s will you marry me, Natalie?”
“No, it’s Saved by the Bell , the TV show.” Covering her mouth, she stares at me through the glass. She raises her palm, and I press mine to hers, the glass between us. Tears fill her eyes, and she finally lowers her hand from her mouth. As her shoulders rock with her soft cries, I get up on one knee.
Those tears fall down her cheeks, and she presses both hands to the glass. “The stars realigned for us. We fought our destiny and made the mistake of walking away. But I’ve learned that every time we follow our hearts, we’re never led astray.” Holding the box open, the three-carat, Asher-cut diamond sparkles under the bright lights of the revolving door.
I take it out of the box and tuck it under the space between the glass wall and the door that separates us. She takes the ring and stares in awe. When her eyes return to me, I say, “I love you more than anything. Will you marry me, Natalie?”
Slipping the ring on her finger, she says, “Yes.”