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“And you knew.” He looked up at me.
“I did,” I admitted. “But it wasn’t my place to tell you.”
He nodded. “You’re right.” Finley stood. “But I think at some point, you and I are going to need to have a conversation about your intentions toward my…daughter.”
Fuck me.
I had a better suggestion. “Let’s have dinner first.”
Fourteen
Ashlee
My father had been an only child, and my grandmother had been a seamstress. She’d died a few years ago. I’d known all of that from my basic research, but when Finley said I had her laugh, it was new information.
He didn’t talk about his dad, and I’d never been able to find anything about him. Still, I didn’t ask. He’d only known about me for a couple hours. I could hardly expect to hear his entire life story over Nate’s deliciously prepared salmon.
Even though I hadn’t been able to find family in my research, a part of me had held on to a secret hope that he’d just been so private that extended family hadn’t made it into the media. It didn’t seem like there was much chance of that, but he was here, and that was enough.
The best part was, as the night wound down, was knowing that this wasn’t the end. I’d see him again at work, and we’d make time outside of work to keep getting to know each other.
“Dinner was great,” Finley said. “You never fail to surprise me with your culinary skills, Nate.”
“Thanks.” Nate held out his hand in what looked like one of the most awkward gestures ever. He’d been tense ever since Finley had made that comment about needing to have a fatherly talk, though I didn’t think it was because he was concerned. Finley hadn’t actually been serious. I suspected it was more that it’d really hit home for Nate that his best friend was my father.
“We’re not going to make this weird,” Finley said, rolling his eyes. “Well, weirder than it already is.”
I grabbed Nate’s outstretched hand and pulled it down to my side. “We’ll both see you on Monday.”
Finley reached out and squeezed my free hand. “It’ll seem normal soon.”
I hoped that was the case.
After Finley left, I let go of Nate’s hand and turned to go to the kitchen. Before I could get more than a couple steps, he grabbed my wrist.
“Where are you going?”
I gestured with my free hand. “To the kitchen to wash the dishes.”
“I have a dishwasher for a reason,” he said.
“All right, but I need to put the pan to soak, or you’ll never get it clean.”
“I have actually done this before, you know.” He tugged on my hand, and I stumbled back into his chest. “And I already took care of it.”
I leaned into him, smiling. “So, what do you want to do before I head home?”
He slid his arms around me, hands settling at the base of my spine. His eyes gleamed with a familiar light. “You’re not going home.”
I tipped my head back. “I’m not?”
“No. You’re staying here tonight.” His voice deepened, hitting that Dominant note that sent a shiver down my spine.
“I am.” I made it a statement instead of a question because I knew he was actually giving me the option. If I said I wanted to go home, he’d let me. But I didn’t want to go home. Not if he was taking charge again.
“Good.” He bent his head and brushed his lips across mine. “The first thing we’re going to do is get us both out of our clothes and into a shower.”
I liked that idea. Bare skin. Wet bare skin. I could picture the drops of water sliding down those rock-hard pecs, clinging to one pebbled nipple, following that trail of golden hair down chiseled abs…