Leah
“You're really not going to give me a hint, are you?"
Nick only smiles, shaking his head as the elevator doors slide shut behind us. The gentle hum of the cables fills the silence while the floor numbers steadily climb.
I should probably be more concerned about the fact that this man is carrying me bridal style like I weigh nothing.
He doesn't so much as adjust his grip. Not a grunt.
Not a wobble. Not even a bead of sweat. His arms are steady beneath me, his chest warm and solid against my shoulder, and for reasons I can't quite explain, I've never felt safer.
My eyes drift to his mouth.
Goodness ...
I've spent entirely too much time wondering what those lips would feel like against mine. The thought alone sends a slow warmth curling low in my stomach.
The elevator dings.
Nick looks down at me with that crooked smile, his bright eyes already dancing with mine. “You ready?”
Butterflies take flight somewhere beneath my ribs as I nod.
The doors slide open, and he carries me into a quiet hallway.
We weave through a couple of turns before long windows replace solid walls revealing the Houston skyline glowing in the distance against the December night.
I hadn't realized we'd climbed this high.
We were practically on top of the hospital.
At the end of the corridor, Nick stops in front of an unassuming glass door. He lowers me to my feet, keeping one hand at my elbow until I'm steady. “You ready?” With a mischievous grin, he swipes his badge.
The door swings open to a garden inside of a glass atrium. Winding stone paths curve through flower beds kept alive despite the season. Benches are scattered beneath small ornamental trees, and somewhere near the center, a quiet fountain sends water trickling over smooth stones.
I slowly wander around the walkway, forgetting all about my aching feet. "It's beautiful …”
“Stay right here. I'll be right back," Nick says.
Before I can ask where he's going, he disappears through another doorway.
A minute later, he returns carrying two warm blankets draped over an arm and a pair of bright yellow hospital socks with white grips on the bottom. “They don't exactly match, do they?”
I laugh. “Oooo hospital couture.” I pause. “Wait … did you steal these?”
“Technically,” he says, helping me take a seat on a stone bench. “Do you pay taxes?”
“Yes … why?”
“Ah, then you're good. You pre-ordered these bad boys.” He chuckles, setting the blankets aside before crouching in front of me. He unzips my boots and carefully eases each one off, revealing my Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer socks.
His eyebrows lift. “I don't know what I was expecting … but it wasn't that … but also, I should've."
I giggle, wiggling my toes. “You were never supposed to see them.”
Carefully pulling off my reindeer socks—thank goodness, I just gave myself a pedicure—he slips the hospital ones over my foot and up half my leg, making us both unable to keep a straight face.
“Not exactly the perfect fit, but at least you won't be walking like a baby deer.” His fingers brush against my knee, the brief touch igniting goosebumps across my skin as my heart does a ridiculous little flip.
He takes a seat next to me in front of a stone table, my shoulder barely reaching his. I pull out a bottle of hand sanitizer for us to share before unpacking our dinners. I set out the cartons of fries, promptly popping one of his into my mouth.
"Excuse me." He narrows his eyes. "Did you just steal one of my fries?"
I take another one.
"I'm performing quality control."
“And?
I sneak one more. “Needs spicy ketchup.”
He shakes his head, laughing to himself before stealing one from my carton in return.
I smile, grabbing my cheeseburger. "Do you come up here a lot?"
He glances over. "Is that like a pickup line? ‘Do you come here often?’” We laugh together before his smile softens.
“I found this place a few years ago." He unwraps his burger, but doesn't take a bite.
"I had a particularly hard case with an eclamptic patient who passed.
I needed a quiet place, but my shift wasn't over, so I discovered this prayer garden, and now, I come here when I need a minute. Plus …” He glances up.
I follow his gaze, and my breath catches. Beyond the glass overhead, tiny stars glitter against the December sky. “I didn't know you could see so many of these in the city Houston.”
A smile tugs at the corner of his mouth. “Most people never notice them. Helps to be above some of the city lights ….”
“Gosh, there are so many stars," I whisper.
“So … many …” Nick agrees softly.
Something in his voice gives me pause, drawing my attention from the sky and back to him.
Nick isn't looking up. He's looking at me, his eyes locked on mine.
My cheeks warm as my knee brushes his, suddenly very aware of how close we're sitting.
“Can I ask you something?"
He slowly nods, his eyes never leaving mine.
“The night when we first met … before you knew who I was, before Grady … why didn't you kiss me?”
He blows out a heavy exhale. “I wanted to—believe me, I did. It's just … it didn't feel like the right time."
I tilt my head. “And … when is the right time, cowboy?"
His eyes soften as his knuckles brush against my cheek, tucking my hair behind my ear.
“How about … right … now—”
Cupping my cheek, Nick presses his lips to mine.
His mouth leaves mine for the briefest moment.
I don't let him go.
My fingers tighten around the front of his scrub top as I pull him back to me, kissing him with every stolen glance, every interrupted moment, every mile of restraint we've traveled to get here.
A quiet laugh melts into a soft groan somewhere deep in his throat as his arms gather me closer, and suddenly the space between us disappears.
Goodness …
I part my lips, and he answers without hesitation, the tip of his tongue brushing mine in a slow, tentative tease. My fingers curl tighter in his shirt as his fingers tangle into my hair.
His lips leave mine only long enough to find them again. The gentle scrape of his teeth catches my bottom lip before he kisses me deeper, his tongue coaxing mine into an unhurried dance that steals every coherent thought from my mind.
I match each lick and pull and suck until we're smiling against each other's mouths. Our kisses turn feverish, furiously determined for more.
More warmth.
More touch.
More of what's becoming us.
Nick breaks away to trail kisses along my jaw and down to my chin. His hand tugs at my hair, my head tilting back and granting him more access.
His tongue glides against my pulse point before nipping gently at my skin and—
Oh my gosh …
My breath catches.
My hand slides behind his neck, my nails digging into his skin. “Nick …” I murmur.
His mouth is hot, his tongue tracing in small languid circles across my throat. His large hand grazes my knee before sliding up my thigh.
I need to stop. We—oh my gosh—we can't do this. Not out here. Not yet.
But this feels perfect.
This gorgeous man feels so incredibly perfect.
He lifts me onto his lap, my legs straddling him. His hands find my backside and pull me flesh with him, and—
Whoa.
He's hard.
Like really, really hard.
And he's pressed up against me.
A warmth unfurls low in my belly I don't recognize, and I start to ache. My mind can't catch up, instinct replacing thought in a way that makes me panic as my hips begin to rock.
“Wait,” I whisper, placing my hand over his.
He stills immediately, lifting his head. His eyes are dark, searching mine for answers. “Are you okay?”
“I …” I work my jaw, searching for an explanation that doesn't make me sound like a complete loser. Because there is absolutely nothing wrong with what we were doing … but now I fear there is absolutely something wrong with me.
“Leah? It's okay. You can talk to me.”
“I … I'm sorry. I …” I stare at him for a moment longer, then I clamp my hands over my eyes. “I am so sorry.”
“Hey-hey-hey …” He gently cups my wrists. “No apologizing, remember?”
“But I … ugh. I ruined the moment.”
A crooked smile grows across his swollen lips. “I got to kiss you. And then I got to kiss you again. I'd hardly call that ruined.”
“Really?”
“Really.” He kisses my forehead. “I am gonna need you to get off my lap though—”
“Oh gosh! I'm sorry—”
“No, no.” He chuckles. “You've done nothing wrong. It's just … a … hazard of sorts. With you. On top of me.”
My cheeks warm as he helps me back onto the bench. “Do you want to talk about what just happened?”
I shake my head.
The answer seems to suffice for now—which I'm grateful for because I'm not quite sure what just happened or why my body started throbbing like that.
Or why my core is still pulsating.
Nick wraps his arm around me, keeping me close. He buries his nose in my hair, resting his chin. “Your hair …” He inhales and hums.
I giggle. “Is it okay?”
He cuddles closer, nuzzling into me. “More than okay. It's—” he exhales—“I can never get enough of it.”
I snuggle into him, laughing at the sleepy-lilt to his words.
Then I still.
I sit up, my eyes searching his.
“You okay, darlin’?”
“My shampoo. It's peony scented.”
That dimple slowly appears. “Yeah … I know.”
I chuckle, shaking my head. “But … how?”
“Honestly, I didn't know until I went to buy you flowers." He smiles to himself. “I told the florist I was looking for a flower that smelled like your hair.”
I blink.
“You what?”
“She thought I was crazy.” He chuckles. “She had me smell just about everything in the shop. Roses. Gardenias. Lilies. Nothing was right. Then she handed me this sample-vial-oil-thing of peony.” His smile softens. “The second I smelled it, I knew.”
I stare at him.
“But peonies are out of season.”
“That's what she said.” He laughs. “Several times. She finally tracked some down from a grower in South America and had them shipped in.”
I shake my head, still trying to piece it together. "But when did you—"
“Stop” He laughs, gently pressing a finger to my bruised lips. “You're ruining the magic.”
I smile against his fingertip.
“No …” I whisper. “I'm discovering how much you did for me.”
His expression softens.
“You're worth it, Leah.”
Oh …
I'm in so much trouble.
I think I'm falling for this man. This man who goes out of his way to make me happy, to make me feel special, to make me feel safe. This man who stops the second I flinch and accepts my no without question. This man who respects me and my body.
Maybe that's why falling for him is so terrifying because for the first time, I'm beginning to understand what it feels like to be cherished by someone other than the church.
And it's so much better.