Chapter 5 Stephanie #2
I’d shocked him into silence because it took two throat bobs for him to recover himself.
My kissing history wasn’t something I was ashamed of.
Apart from the disastrous kissing challenge, I didn’t kiss until a third date, and in light of my two-date only curse, I’d only had one of those—who turned into the aforementioned boyfriend for a month.
Until he’d hit me with the “I need to take some time to work on my relationship with God” line after his job aspiration to work at Nova didn’t pan out, and he dumped me.
Only to have a blonde on his arm by the end of the month.
Yeah. And Jarrett the creep didn’t count.
If no one had wanted to kiss me—or simply want me for myself—there must be something wrong with me.
Samantha’s words echoed from last night, and I glanced out the window to keep Nash from seeing the fine sheen pooling in my eyes. She’s not the kind of woman any man wants. No. I was the woman nobody wanted. Not even my parents.
“You’re in charge here,” Nash said at last, his low timbre drawing me out of my spiraling thoughts. “I’ve got you.”
His protective words smoothed the sting of Samantha’s.
I’ve got you. I smiled before adding, “Nana will be the hardest to convince. And maybe Hailey.” Not that Gabe and Ivy were going to be a walk in the park either, but on the scale of nosiness, Nana and Hailey were cut from the same cloth. They treated it like an extreme sport.
“Why’s that?”
“Because I talk to them almost every week, and I never mentioned we were dating. I mean! Fake dating.” Get your head in the game, girl. “Fake dating because this isn’t real. Of course.”
Something flickered across his face, but it disappeared before I could name it. “So, none of them know about me?”
Uh… more like they knew about him as the object of my crush. They knew too much. I cleared my throat. “They know about you as my boss, just not about… us.”
Nash’s grin widened, his mouth twitching mischievously. “Us,” he practically purred. “I like the sound of that.”
My eyeballs were ready to fall into my lap. He… what? He was either a fantastic actor or… nah, he definitely wasn’t into me. That’d be ridiculous. Fantastic actor it was.
“My turn?” he asked with a smile that was dangerous for my health.
“Go ahead.” Picking up the fork, I prodded the plump cinnamon roll. Maisie never skimped on the icing.
“I’m proposing that we not fake date.”
My fork clattered, and my jaw dropped. “What?” After that whole conversation and my life story—at least part of it—was hung out to dry, he thought, “Let’s not fake date?”
Nash held up a hand, accurately reading my internal freak out. “What if we actually dated? For real?”
“I… you… Why would we do that? That literally breaks Rule Number One: don’t fall in love.” I’d already broken that rule, but semantics.
“I’m not hearing a no,” Nash teased. “I’m not a huge fan of lying for one. So, what if starting now we dated for real. That is… if you consider me someone you would date?”
“I… I…” I would. I have. I do. I could say any of those things and mean it. Hope fizzled in my chest like champagne bubbles. It was everything I wanted. But those niggles of doubt from last night were louder, and my knee-jerk reaction to panic kicked into gear. “I’m not your type.”
His espresso eyes sharpened slightly. “You have no idea what I want, Steph, and it’s you. I know our work dynamic brings a level of complexity to this relationship, and I’d never ask you to do something you’re uncomfortable with. But if you’re willing, can we try this for real?”
I chewed on a mouthful of the decadent pastry, breathing in the aroma of coffee and spices to ground my parading nerves. “A holiday trial run full of Christmas magic before the bubble pops?”
Nash grinned. “Getting into the spirit of the season, I see.” He leaned back in his chair, totally at ease.
I was upturning his holiday, and he sat there like it was the best gift I could have given him.
Meanwhile my insides were shuddering with electric shocks of anxiety knotting my stomach.
“I… I’m not sure,” I whispered. Was it everything I’d ever wanted?
Yes. But was I brave enough to reach out and grab it?
He’s out of your league. He’ll leave. Everyone does.
Nash’s smile flickered, but he nodded. “The offer stands. Think about it, and if you change your mind, let me know.” His throat bobbed as he took another sip of coffee, his expression clearing. Like I hadn’t just dragged my feet through his offer of real dating. What was wrong with me?
Before I could whisper my apology, he was already moving on.
“I’ll pick you up on Friday morning then, yeah?
We can play twenty questions of getting to know your fake boyfriend on the drive up.
You said Jackson’s nine hours from here?
” He fished his phone out of his coat pocket and tapped a few things on the screen.
“That’s not bad. We can stop in Butte for lunch. It’s about halfway.”
He wasn’t offended? If he was, he was hiding it well.
But I knew Nash and that wasn’t his style.
He wasn’t a brooder. And he was planning the route?
My planner heart fell in love a little harder.
Theoretically. My mind instantly started racking up the cost of gas and the current undriveableness of my car.
“I’ll pay you for the gas, or we can take my car. Uh… if it’s fixed by then.”
Nash smiled serenely. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll pick you up.”
Just like it was a date.
He sipped his drink then cocked his head to study me. “Wait, so this is an extended Addams family holiday?”
I winced, not missing the emphasis on my surname. It had been the brunt of jokes for decades. And the mirth flickered in Nash’s eyes as he draped an arm over the chair next to him. If it were me sitting there… nope, not going there.
“Any relation to the actual Addams family?”
“You’ve met my father. What do you think?” I snorted. “Word of advice, my family drama makes Morticia and company look like a cakewalk.”
Nash grinned, dark eyes crinkling behind his lenses, dimple deepening with amusement. “Bring it on, sweetheart.”
I shouldn’t have liked the sound of sweetheart coming from his mouth with that rare Texas drawl he let slip out as much as I did, but it was still echoing in my ears days later.