Chapter 16
16
W hen I’m not in bed driven crazy by Nathan Blackshaw’s ability to make me come and make me laugh, he’s dragging me out of the cabin to explore Hardin and hang out with his pack.
Suddenly, my life is so busy and happy and so full, I forget about the itchy feet I’m supposed to have.
Nathan is making me breakfast as I pretend not to watch him since he’s shirtless, and I have no intention of being caught staring. Again . He’s wearing sweatpants low, and his hair is disheveled from where I ran my hand through it.
He peers over his shoulder. “Peach?”
I slam my eyes shut and let out a loud snore.
He chuckles as his footsteps approach my bed.
I’m half expecting him to kiss me. He finds any excuse to cradle the back of my head and draw me in for a kiss so luscious that I will never stop anticipating it.
The bed dips slightly as he sits on the edge, and I feel his gaze sweep over my face.
“I didn’t think I would ever be happy again until I met you.”
His words are so sweet and genuine that there’s no way I can pretend to sleep anymore.
I open my eyes and he smiles. “Knew you were faking.”
Again . He said again.
I don’t return his smile. “Someone hurt you.”
“In a way. It wasn’t intentional, but that doesn’t mean it didn’t hurt.”
The source of his pain. It’s not as sharp as it was before, and I’d desperately like to think it’s because I’m making him happy. “This doesn’t feel like fun anymore.”
It hasn’t for a while. It’s starting to feel real.
He slowly nods. “Yeah. But sometimes there’s more to things than just fun.” I wait, sensing he hasn’t finished speaking yet. “I don’t always want to be a joker. Sometimes I want to be something else.”
“What else?” His hand is on the pillow beside my head, and I take it, squeezing it.
“Anything.” He squeezes my hand back. “With you, I feel like I can be anything.”
“Or drool all over me? Because that was not cool, Blackshaw.” I try not to think about how much my heart contracted when he said that. Or how much I want to haul him close and kiss him because he makes me feel the same way. Like I can say anything, do anything, and he will accept me as I am.
I’m not easy.
Living with Martha taught me that. I can be impulsive, snappish, bitchy on occasion and prickly. I want to be around people until suddenly, with almost no warning at all, I just want to be alone.
I thought no one but my sister would understand me. But Nathan gets it. He gets me .
“Says the girl who left a puddle of drool on my belly.” His voice is dry. “You have an unhealthy obsession with my belly button, peach.”
Fair point.
I lift his hand and press a kiss on the center of his palm. “True.”
“Clara?” his expression is soft, so is his voice. He’s not calling me Clara to keep me at a distance like he did after I pushed him away. He’s saying it with all the sweetness and softness in the world. Like he wants me to hear how much I mean to him.
He must know, or at least strongly suspect, I’m at the telling him I like him stage, but anything more than that and I have no qualms about shoving him off the edge of the bed and bolting.
Commitment…
Staying in one place for too long…
That’s not me.
Not yet.
Since the motel room when I lashed out at him for wanting to talk about me being an omega, he hasn’t pushed me to stay or open up about stuff I’m not ready to yet.
Dayne asked me to stay, but I don’t think Nathan knew he was going to.
“I like your pack,” I tell him.
“They like you.” He grins at me. “We’re bursting at the seams in the house, but I don’t think any of us would have it any other way.”
“Dayne was talking about needing to build new cabins or extend the house.”
He nods. “Yeah, he’s mentioned it before. Talis’s cabin was so problematic that I think he’s delaying the inevitable. He barely slept then. Extending the house would be a much bigger, and potentially more troublesome, project.”
I think Dayne Blackshaw loves his pack enough to swallow his dislike of building cabins. “He’ll do it.”
“I know.” He gives me a searching look. “Was that all you were talking about?”
I whistle between my teeth. “Impressive, Blackshaw. I’d have tackled you the second you stepped foot in the kitchen, demanding to know everything. You have more patience than I ever have.”
He kisses me. “I’d hoped you would tell me if there was something you needed me to know.”
And I did tell him. No prompting necessary.
“We might have talked about something else,” I tease.
“Yeah?”
“But I’m not ready to talk about it yet.”
“Okay, peach. When you are I’m ready to listen.”
“You don’t joke with me,” I suddenly realize. “Regan said you were a joker, and I’ve heard you crack jokes with your packmates, but you don’t with me.”
“Do you want jokes from me?”
I take my time thinking over my answer as he studies me, his expression impossible to read. “No, I think I like the way things are now.”
He smiles. “So do I.”
Nathan—and the Blackshaws—have made me feel welcome and warm, showing me what it would be like if I stayed which is tempting. I can’t say I’m not tempted.
There’s no pushing. No force or attempt to convince me of anything. Just the option to stay if I want or leave if I want that to. It’s a very freeing feeling.
I think that’s why I pull him closer instead of shoving him off the bed.
I bridge those last inches between us and touch my lips to his. “Thanks for coming to Rosenwood after me, Blackshaw.”
And thanks for not pushing me to talk when it’s not easy for me to open up.
He brushes the hair from my face. “So am I. Your breakfast is getting cold.”
“I don’t care about breakfast,” I say as I pull him toward me.
I just care about you.