Chapter 4 #2
"Okay." She turned away from the island and went to the fridge against the wall. It was huge and Nick couldn't remember if he'd seen just how big it was when he'd visited with Katie.
Probably not because he's been focused on the woman.
He was still, but since she was standing in front of a fridge that looked like it belonged in a professional kitchen, he had no choice but to notice both.
When she opened the door it looked like heaven behind her, an almost blinding light met his gaze, and he could barely see more than her silhouette.
And what a silhouette it was.
Most of the times that he'd seen Ruth, her hair was usually piled up on her head in a loose bun that reminded him of a modern version of Gibson Girl portraits.
Now, after a long day, it looked like pieces of it had escaped the bun and were curling down the back of her head, visible only as wisps and smudges in the light, but it was enough to turn her into a goddess.
Like a modern-day Marilyn Monroe, or a version of Christina Hendricks without the armed underwear they poured her into on Mad Men.
He'd love to get his hands... and other things on her hourglass figure.
His palms practically itched to-
"Okay," he heard her smiling before she turned back around, a bottle in her hands. "This is my own personal choice of wine."
She paused halfway between the fridge and where he was standing.
"I don't think I have wine glasses."
Nick lifted up a hand and rubbed it against the back of his head as he searched the kitchen in the half-light.
He watched her move to one part of the kitchen and opened up a cupboard. She hmmmed a little and looked over her shoulder at him. "Do you mind if we make this a little silly?"
"Silly?" He chuckled at the idea. "Why not? What do you have in mind?"
Holding the bottle in one hand she reached into the cupboard with the other and pulled out a couple of mugs.
When she brought them over and set them on top of the kitchen island, he had to take a second look before recognizing the shape of the cups.
"Where did you get these?"
She picked up the bottle and opened the top. "My mom is always on the lookout for bakery themed items for gifts."
He watched as she took the tops off of the cups and set them aside. As she poured wine into both mugs, he lifted up the ceramic top of one mug and looked at the brightly painted berries and streams of syrup. "Fruity."
She nodded and picked up his mug and handed it to him.
He took the handle and looked at it, carefully tilting it in one direction. "Pancakes?"
"Yes... Cute, huh?"
He wasn't really looking at the cups anymore.
Her smile and the light surrounding them made a beautiful picture.
"More than cute."
He took a sip and nodded.
"What do you think?" She was holding her cup close to her mouth. "It's Stella Moscato." She tipped her head to the side, her gaze lowering to the bottle. "There are more words than that, but that's what I can remember."
"It's sweet."
"I guess that's where my tastes lean." She sighed a little. "It's probably a little trite."
"Don't feel the need to downplay what you like. If you had wine in your house that you didn't like, then I'd have to worry about you."
"Worry about me?" She leaned her hip against the island, and her gaze touched his face. "I'm okay. I'm always okay."
She lowered her gaze to the top of her cup and for the first time, he saw her less than her bold and bright self.
He could see her hesitation.
No, it was something else... he just couldn't name it.
He wanted to know what she was feeling.
Even more, he wanted to know every emotion and facet to her personality.
He'd always been attracted to her from the first moment he saw her, but since they'd talked... since he'd heard her laugh... since he'd seen her smile...
"Would you tell me if you weren't okay?"
He wasn't sure why he'd asked the question.
No, he knew.
But the timing might be a little off. A little ahead of where she was.
She looked up at him over the rim of her cup, and he was caught by the emotion he saw brimming in her beautiful eyes.
"Why would you want to know?"
Her own words seemed to startle her and she straightened, lowering the cup she held in both hands.
"I didn't mean to sound harsh."
"You didn't."
He put his cup down on the island and took a step closer to her. "I doubt you could sound harsh if you tried."
"Oh, I could. I have." She lifted her chin, and he wondered if she was trying to look imperious or just give him some sass.
Either way, she was beautiful.
Her expression softened. "I just don't understand why you'd want to know. I'm happy to help with the tea for Katie. If she needs anything, she can come to me."
"And me?"
He took another step closer, looking for any indication that she wasn't comfortable with him.
Her eyes widened a hint, but she didn't look for an out or put up any barrier between them.
Still, she held the cup.
Nick looked down and saw that the stranglehold she had on the mug almost had her hands shaking.
He knew he needed to say more.
The only question was what words would come out of his mouth.
He knew his mouth wasn't always the smartest part of his body.
He'd been told many times that he could look like a brute if he wasn't careful.
The problem was that his brain wasn't the strongest part of his body when Ruth was on his mind.
She turned her head just a few inches, her gaze looking off into a darker part of the room, but it was enough for him to see the long column of her throat, and he watched her pulse throb against her skin. "What... what would you need from me?"
Finally his brain came online again, but the images in it weren't anything fit for a family audience.
What he needed from her would fill a thousand hot romance books and hundreds of reels of film.
He wanted to tell her in explicit detail the things that he needed from her, but he didn't want to scare her.
Damn, they hadn't even gone out on a date, and he wanted to take her to bed.
He was really out of practice with this relationship thing.
"What I need..."
He stepped closer, but not enough for their bodies to touch.
Close enough that he could smell her amazing scent of cinnamon and sugar.
"... is for you to agree to a date."
She turned her face toward his, her gaze lifting to meet his.
Her lips were parted and glossy as if the wine was still clinging to her skin. "A... a date?" She swallowed and he could barely hear the sound of it past the pounding of his pulse in his ears. "With you?"
She made him want to laugh.
And he'd done so little of that lately.
"Yes," he nodded. "A date... with me."
He dropped his chin just a hair so he could look into her eyes without her having to tip her head back.
"That would be the most important part because I'll be damned if I send you out on a date with some other asshole."
Her eyes widened for a heartbeat and then her mouth quivered a little and turned up into a smile.
He knew why she was about to laugh. He'd done it to himself, really. He'd basically called himself an asshole.
"It's true, Ruth." Nick sighed softly. "I like to think I'm a good man.
I do my best to be a good father, but when it comes to you, I can barely keep myself from scooping you up and sitting your fine ass on this island and kissing you senseless, because when I'm around you I don't have much of a sense of my own.
"I have to try and even the score, or you'll end up thinking I'm a fucking caveman."
"I don't think I've met a caveman before..."
Her voice was soft, but it was warm.
Warm like bread right out of the oven.
"... but I think I kind of like that about you, Nick. So, yes. I'll go out on a date with you-"
"Yeah?" Shit, he'd cut her off in midsentence.
He wanted to kick himself in the ass for that, but he wasn't that flexible these days. Hell, he'd probably never been that flexible.
"But-"
Shit.
That word didn't mean anything good. Right?
"Before we do... Do you think you should ask Katie?"
His brain hit a brick wall with her words. "Katie?"
Yeah, he wasn't thinking about Katie when he was this close to Ruth with wine on their lips.
Ruth gave him a hesitant smile. "I don't pretend to know what it's like for a teenage girl who depends on her dad like she does. Loves you like she does. If she would have any kind of issue with us... going out together, I don't think I could do it."
Well, shit.
Ruth was probably a better parent than he was.
"Uh," he lifted a hand and rubbed it against the back of his head, "I should probably ask her then."
Ruth nodded, smiling, and that smile almost had him in a fucking tailspin.
"And I should probably head on home."
Ruth's smile was killing him.
"Because," he cleared his throat, "if I don't, I might just try for a goodnight kiss."
She stood there while he walked around her and to the door.
He opened it up and stepped outside, but just before he closed the door behind him, he heard Ruth's voice reach him from the center of the room.
"I would have let you."
CLICK
The door closed and he went to bed with a hard on that forced him to sleep on his back.
Yeah, he was already halfway gone for this woman, and he hadn't even kissed her yet.