Page 129 of Bossy Wicked Prince

Nate leans against me, letting me feel the heat of his arm through his sweater. It’s the closest he can give me to a hug, with both of us gloved up and serving food.

Sooner than I’d like, the last person moves through the line, leaving me and Nate standing together. He adjusts his Santa hat, looking around awkwardly. “What do we do now?”

“We walk around. Talk to people. Bring their trays back to the kitchen if they’re finished. You can come with me.”

He follows my lead, staying a few steps behind me as I weave through the tables. Most of the residents I recognize greet me with a smile, but a few turn to Nate first. They thank him for his donation, or tease him about his Santa hat. He takes it in good grace, even if he doesn’t say much in return. He’s still not much of a talker, but he doesn’t need to be. Him being here is enough.

When we get to Rupert’s table, he calls out to me. “Hey, Cat! This your boyfriend?”

Nate stiffens next to me, unsure of what to say.

I shrug. “I don’t know, should he be?”

Rupert’s eyes glitter with mischief. “Take a seat, young man. Let’s find out if you deserve the job.”

Nate and I slide into the two empty chairs at the table. His back is ramrod straight, his hands folded neatly on the table in front of him. He looks like he’s at a job interview.

“So, are you gainfully employed?” Rupert uses a hoity-toity voice, and I have to bite my lip not to laugh.

“I am, sir,” Nate says. “I own my own company. A family business.”

“He means he’s a CEO. He owns a multi-billion-dollar company,” I correct.

Rupert whistles. “Moneybags, huh? Do you just sit around all day, counting your piles of coins?”

“No, sir. I spend too much time at work, when I’m not working out or playing poker with my best friends.”

“So you’re a workaholic.”

“Usually. Recently, I’ve been distracted. There’s a woman who I can’t get out of my head. She’s warm, funny, and sweet, but not so sweet that she lets me get away with anything. She holds me to a higher standard, and makes me want to be the kind of man who deserves her. And she’s so goddamn beautiful that sometimes it’s hard to look at her.”

My mouth drops open. Nate’s not looking at me—his eyes are fixed on Rupert’s.

“She sounds like a hell of a gal,” Rupert says. “What makes you think you deserve her?”

Nate sucks in a breath. “I’m not sure I do. I’m not naturally kind or friendly or generous like she is. I’m trying to give more—not just money, but time, too. I’m a bit of a control freak, but I’m working on it. She makes me want to be a better man, so that’s what I’m trying to be.”

My heart flutters hummingbird-fast. Nate still wants me, and I know in my heart that I want him, too. There’s still work to do, for both of us. But I don’t know anyone as determined as Nate. If he wants to change, he will.

“Does that mean we’ll be seeing you back here at the shelter?” Rupert asks.

Nate nods. “I’m on the schedule for next week, Tuesday and Saturday.”

Rupert turns to me. “Well, Cat, if you want him to be your boyfriend, he has my recommendation.”

“Hmm, I’ll think about it.” I wink at Rupert and push out of my seat. “We should really get these trays back to the kitchen, Nate.”

Grabbing half the stack of trays, I hurry out of the crowded room and back toward the staff area. I can feel Nate’s steady presence behind me, following me. I think he might follow me anywhere.

The noise from the party dampens as soon as we’re in the kitchen. I drop my trays in the sink. Once Nate does the same, I grab him by the wrist and pull him back into a supply closet.

Once I shut the door, I turn and hug him tight around the waist, burrowing my face in the sweater that’s just as soft as I thought it would be. His arms come around me in an instant, his lips to the crown of my head.

“Is this real?” he murmurs into my hair, almost like he didn’t mean to say it out loud.

His spicy cologne fills my lungs, bringing me the peace I’ve been craving but unable to find anywhere else since I left that night after the poker game.

“I missed you,” I say into his sweater, and then pull back just enough to look into his eyes.