Page 15 of A Lonely Road (Spruce Hill #2)

Chapter Thirteen

Jake

T wo days and a near constant string of texts later, I was working under the hood of my truck again when Nora trotted down the stairs and approached me.

I glanced over my shoulder, then straightened and gave her my full attention.

Though she wasn’t wearing the blue dress that had haunted my fantasies for days, she looked damned good in denim cutoff shorts that made her sculpted legs seem a mile long.

For a swift second, I let myself appreciate the stretch of skin that I’d felt too guilty to ponder during her illness.

“Howdy, neighbor,” I drawled.

This time, her beautiful eyes danced in response to the greeting. My gaze traveled over her features. I expected to find dark circles under her eyes, a lingering pallor maybe, but she looked well-rested and heart-stoppingly beautiful .

“Howdy yourself,” she said, peeking under the hood. “I’d make some casual comment about engines if I had any idea what wouldn’t make me sound like an idiot.”

I cocked one hip against the front bumper. “Might take a few lessons to get you up to speed, but you’re a quick study.” My head tilted as I looked at her. “How are you feeling?”

“I feel totally fine, no relapse. All of my muscles seem to have returned to full strength. I even managed to bathe and dress myself without your assistance.”

I smirked at that and bit back a flirty retort. The way she shrugged one shoulder, the wry smile, the light in her eyes—it all made me want to wrap my arms around her again, but the ball was now in her court.

“In any case, I’m completely recovered.”

“Good,” I said softly. “That’s good.”

“Actually, I wondered if you were interested in another pizza night? My treat this time, to thank you for taking care of me while I was sick. And I’ll bring dessert.” The words flowed out in a rush, like she needed to say them quickly, before she lost her courage.

Hopefully, my answering smile was warm enough to soothe her nerves. “I can’t think of anything I’d like better. Tonight?”

She nodded, a little shyly. “Or whenever you’re free,” she added quickly. “I don’t want to cause any more issues with your work. ”

Though I had, in fact, skipped out on the restaurant to stay by her side during her illness, I had a feeling she was referring more to the drunk who’d grabbed her.

That was the opening I’d been waiting for; I reached out and cupped her cheek in my hand.

My heart lifted when she shifted ever so slightly, nuzzling her face into my palm.

“Let’s get one thing perfectly straight,” I said, my voice gentle but firm. “You haven’t caused a single issue at my work. I swear to you that what happened that night will never happen again in my restaurant—not to you, not to anyone else. Okay?”

“Yeah,” she replied softly.

“And you’ll break my heart if you stop coming to The Mermaid to work. As for pizza, I’m free tonight, if that fits into your schedule.”

Nora’s breath hitched, stalling for a long moment before she let it out in a quiet whoosh, then she nodded. “Okay. Five?”

I reluctantly dropped my hand, but I held her gaze. “It’s a date,” I said.

The word was very deliberately spoken and I waited to see if she would shy away from it, but she simply gave me a sweet, beautiful smile and jogged back up the stairs to her apartment.

A t five o’clock sharp, Nora walked up the stairs to the deck.

To my absolute delight, she was wearing the blue dress again, with those deep brown curls tumbling about her bare shoulders, and she held a box from my favorite local bakery in her arms. I unfolded from my chair to take the box, but this time I let appreciation show as my gaze traveled over her.

Fucking hell. She was stunning.

“I ordered the same pizza we had last time, I hope that’s okay,” she said, clutching the fabric of her skirt like she was trying to keep her hands steady.

“That sounds perfect. I'll put this in the kitchen until we’re ready for dessert. Want a tour of the house?”

Though her lips parted slightly in surprise, she nodded and followed me through the French doors that connected the deck to a spacious kitchen I’d spent a great deal of time fixing up after I moved in.

“This is the size of my whole apartment,” she said, impressed. “Did you renovate all of this yourself?”

I nodded, both pleased with the admiration in her tone and ridiculously turned on by the way she ran her fingertips over the edge of the granite countertop.

“It was the first project I took on after buying the house. The whole first floor looked like something from the seventies. It was pretty horrific,” I said with a grin.

“So, you own a restaurant but on the side you’re a bartender, contractor, mechanic, and nursemaid.” One delicate brow arched upward in amusement. “That’s a pretty wide range of skills, even for an overachiever like yourself.”

As much as I wanted to offer her some insight into my other more intimate skillset, I swallowed back the reply and simply inclined my head. “I am a renaissance man, what can I say?”

“Look, Lincoln, I think we need to get something straight before this goes any further.”

My muscles locked, gaze riveted on the flush in her cheeks. “What’s that?”

Nora narrowed her eyes at me and my brows shot up when she poked the center of my chest for emphasis. “I am not made of glass.”

“No, you’re definitely not.”

“You’re not going to offend me or scare me off by being flirty or dirty or whatever causes that steamy look in your eyes.”

I sucked in a sharp breath, but she wasn’t finished.

“I don’t want you to censor yourself because you’re afraid I’m going to crumble or run away. I’m not. I know you caught me in a moment of weakness while I was sick, but that’s over. Say what you want to say, all right?”

With a slow perusal of her ferocious expression, I said, “Well, Cassidy, I know good and well that you’re tough as nails, so let’s put that aside for a minute.

You do have to admit that this is a far cry from the woman who moved in all those weeks ago, peeking out through the curtains before she’d venture outside. ”

I gestured to her, a sweep of my hand from her head to her feet. She looked fierce and fiery and so very alive that I wanted nothing more than to kiss her breathless. Her cheeks flushed darker but she didn’t break eye contact, like we were locked in a silent battle of wills.

“Okay, you’re right. I’ll give you that much,” she conceded. “But that was then, this is now.”

Gently, I replied, “I wasn’t born yesterday, Nora.

I know what it looks like when a woman’s running from something.

Or someone. You can’t blame me for wanting to go easy on you.

I’m not asking any questions—your business is your business, and I’m not planning to pry—but I’d have to be blind not to see that even if you’re not afraid right this very minute, you damn well were afraid of something. ”

At that, she jerked as if I’d slapped her and I was immediately filled with remorse. When I opened my mouth to apologize, though, she held up a hand to stop me.

“Fair enough,” she said evenly. “I admit that I was . . . nervous. Moving around the way I have, it’s not all rainbows and adventures.

Sometimes it’s hard and scary, but dammit, I like it here.

And I like you, and I like the way you make me feel, and I didn’t want to screw up my chances here in town if that feeling wasn’t mutual. ”

She stepped forward and laid her hand on my chest, my heart thumping under her palm. Even now, I knew she was nervous, but I sincerely hoped it was an entirely different variety of nerves than when she first moved in.

I covered her hand with mine, my brain focused on the part of her speech that sent heat streaking through my limbs .

“Oh, it’s mutual, all right. Humor me, though, with a little clarification. How exactly do I look at you?” I asked, my voice low and just gravelly enough to send a visible tremor up her spine.

“Like you can’t stop thinking about kissing me.”

“Probably because I haven’t stopped thinking about kissing you since the day you got here.”

Her lips quirked. “Then hurry up and kiss me already.”

There it was, the invitation I’d been longing for.

It lay not just in the words, but in the gleam of her dark eyes, the way her tongue darted out across her bottom lip.

I set my other hand at her hip and bent my head, brushing my lips across hers in a teasing caress.

A shuddering breath escaped her, then she pressed closer, drew my mouth deeper.

God, she was sweet. So impossibly sweet. As her hands snaked upward to my shoulders, mine went to the small of her back, drawing her body flush against me. She tasted like summertime, warm and welcoming.

I angled my mouth against hers, experiencing a ripple of fierce satisfaction when a low hum of pleasure vibrated deep in her throat.

This wasn’t how I'd imagined things between us, not by a long shot. How many times had I warned myself I’d have to take it slow, measure every reaction carefully, keep things gentle and unhurried?

Instead, she was clinging to me for dear life and clearly succumbing to the same inferno of desire that raged inside me .

The doorbell startled us both into flying apart like teenagers caught necking. Nora slapped a hand over her chest as if to slow the galloping pace of her heart and blinked up at me until I was able to shake myself out of my reverie.

“The pizza,” I croaked finally.

Nora giggled—actually giggled, like I’d heard Sam and her friends do at sleepovers all those years ago—and I found myself laughing along with her until we were both doubled over with tears in our eyes. I hadn’t laughed until I cried in as long as I could remember.

“I paid over the phone,” she gasped, “but you’ll have to go get the door. Oh shit, my mascara is probably everywhere.”