Page 3 of Mine This Time

Chapter Three

Mari

I looked across the table at Nash Reynolds and willed my pulse to slow. I told myself my reaction to him was simply because I was so out of whack this morning. I mean, I had woken up to my boyfriend’s abrupt disappearance. It was fair to say I was discombobulated.

I’d scouted out Nash when I pulled up the online calendar I only had access to on my phone because Brett had once logged in on my phone to update it.

If I was wondering whether he was trying to cut me out, that was promptly confirmed.

A few minutes after I opened it, the app unceremoniously logged me out with a warning that the password had been updated.

I was pissed, but those few minutes had given me enough time to find a few trails to follow, starting with the one that led to Nash’s office.

There I sat across from Nash Reynolds in a charming little café with a lovely view of Bourbon Street.

I’d come close to turning down his lunch invitation, but the truth was I was so hungry I was almost shaking.

Although the breakfast at Creek’s End Inn looked delicious, I hadn’t had much appetite this morning.

Whether it was low blood sugar, or how rattled I was in reaction to Nash, I was ravenous at this point.

I took a sip of my water and reached for a sweet potato fry.

Nash had ordered them before we even sat down.

It was lightly battered and the perfect combination of salty and sweet as I bit into it.

I didn’t realize a little moan escaped until Nash arched a brow, one corner of his mouth hitching up.

“Good, aren’t they?” he teased lightly.

I felt my cheeks heat. “Good isn’t enough. Delicious is more fitting.”

“Everything here is excellent.” Nash glanced up when our waiter arrived at our table again.

“Do you two need a few more minutes?” the young man asked politely.

Nash looked over at me, cocking his head to the side.

“What do you recommend?” I asked, glancing at the waiter.

“Today’s special, shrimp with bacon and grits, is a favorite.”

“I’ll vouch for that. It’s my favorite,” Nash replied, the subtle twang to his voice sliding over me like honey.

“I’ll take that then.” I handed over the menu. I’d hardly been able to focus on the menu, not able to absorb much of anything.

When Nash slid his menu to the edge of the table, the waiter immediately picked it up. “I’ll take the same. Would you like some wine with that?” Nash asked, glancing at me.

“Oh, no,” I said, shaking my head quickly. “I’m driving.”

I sensed Nash had many questions, but he didn’t ask them.

As the waiter turned away, another man approached our table.

He appeared to be a businessman, dressed in slacks and a button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up.

He nodded to me before his gaze swung to Nash.

“How are you doing, Nash? Any updates on the issues with that project?”

As Nash began to reply, I tuned it out because I didn’t need to listen.

Instead, I took a moment to let myself soak in the view of Nash.

His hair was dark gold with light streaks as if kissed by the sun.

His skin was burnished bronze with his hazel eyes standing out in contrast. His eyes were mesmerizing—a swirl of green, gold, and brown.

The depth of color was intense. His features were bold with defined cheekbones, his nose sharp and straight, a strong square jaw, and sensual lips.

There was no doubt he was well built as his shoulders filled out his button-down shirt that was paired with faded black jeans.

Although he wore the casual business look well, he had a restrained energy to him.

As if he could throw that polished look off in a flash and his raw, potent masculinity would burst forth.

I imagined he had plenty of women chasing after him.

I couldn’t say I was particularly familiar with Nash Reynolds, but I knew his name.

With my older brother deep into tech investments and tendrils connecting him to various businesses all over the world, I knew he’d been involved in security planning on the tech side for Nash’s sprawling real estate investments in New Orleans.

Rumor had it the man owned half of this Southern city.

It was only when I heard Nash saying, “You have a good afternoon now, Johnny,” and his gaze swung back to me that I realized I’d been staring.

When Nash’s gaze collided with mine, my pulse lunged, and my belly spun. Once again, I felt my cheeks get hot. I tried to tell myself I was rattled from such a bizarre morning, but my body wasn’t buying that argument.

“So,” Nash drawled, “do tell me what brought you to my office looking for not-your-Brett this morning, Mari?”

I traced my fingertips around the water glass set on the dark wooden table. For a moment, I considered coming up with some sort of explanation that wasn’t humiliating. But the reality was, I was well and done with Brett after his little stunt, so there was no sense in lying.

“Well, we came down for a weekend stay at a bed & breakfast. It was supposed to be a nice getaway because we’ve both been really busy.

Now, he’s gone, and I have no idea where he is.

He didn’t even pay for our stay, and I’m flat broke.

To make a long story short, he’s an asshole.

I thought perhaps I could track him down and at least give him hell.

But it’s probably best if I let the whole thing go. ”

Nash’s gaze held mine as he shook his head slowly. “I suppose I’m glad to know you’ve seen his true colors.”

“Oh, did you know Brett? I mean, beyond seeing him this morning.”

“I only met him this morning. Before he showed up unannounced, he reached out about an investment opportunity. As I do with any possible investments, I did some looking into his assets and discovered everything was fluff. I declined to meet with him, but he showed up anyway. I gave him five minutes and escorted him out. I can’t say I know him personally, but I can tell you his finances are nothing more than a game of smoke and mirrors. ”

I stared at Nash, anger churning in my gut. Not anger with Nash, mind you. But fury with Brett. I might not know Nash Reynolds well, but I knew he had the resources to assess Brett’s supposed financial wizardry. If he thought it was all fluff, it likely was.

“You’re telling me—” I closed my eyes and shook my head. After a slow breath, I looked over at Nash. I felt like an idiot. “Never mind. It doesn’t really matter in the end. I’ll enjoy my lunch and get on with my life.”

Nash’s gaze swept over my face. It felt as if he could see right into me.

Considering the events of the morning, I felt far more vulnerable than I preferred.

Complicating matters was my body’s reaction to Nash.

My body tingled under his intent focus, and a subtle heat suffused me.

On the heels of a deep breath, I reached for my water and took another gulp.

Although I’d just blurted out the humiliating truth of my situation, Nash didn’t know the compounding layers of history behind it.

When I had first started dating Brett, my older brother—my bossy, far too together, older brother—hadn’t liked him.

Not one bit. In fact, Max had said he thought Brett was using me.

Because I could be stubborn, and because I didn’t want to believe Brett had been using me, I’d ignored Max’s opinion and continued dating Brett.

It had only been a year, but the doubts sown by Max’s initial perception had never dissipated.

As it was, Brett and I had drifted apart and hardly seen each other for the last few months.

This morning was a spectacular example of why Max had been exactly right.

Blessedly, Nash was gracious enough not to push the subject any further.

Another interruption from yet another business acquaintance of his gave me enough time to finish eating while he made small talk about some project in New Orleans.

Meanwhile, I was doing mental math, trying to calculate how I could scrape together the funds to cover the bill at Creek’s End Inn. I figured I was going to have to put it all on a credit card and hope for the best. When our waiter arrived, she asked if it was one check.

“Oh, no,” I replied, shaking my head.

Nash arched a brow before glancing at the waitress. “One check, please.”

“I can get my own lunch,” I insisted.

Nash stared at me, once again, his gaze feeling like an X-ray on my brain. I mentally battened down the hatches and pulled my pride into place, tattered though it was.

“Mari,” he finally began. “I would cover lunch with whomever I brought to lunch. I invited you, so that’s what I expect to do.”

I managed a shallow breath, willing the spin of emotions inside me to settle.

“I can still cover my own lunch.” I had no idea why I was arguing about this.

Given my financial situation, allowing Nash to take care of the bill was the sensible thing to do.

But then, I wasn’t feeling particularly sensible.

Nash inclined his head before shrugging. “If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to run to the restroom. I’ll be right back.”

Our waiter nodded and turned away to check on a table nearby when Nash stood, his stride long and confident as he walked across the restaurant.

I told myself not to notice the way his shoulders filled out his shirt, not to linger on the way the faded denim of his jeans hugged his muscled legs, and certainly not to acknowledge that the man had one fine ass.

What the hell are you doing ogling another man right now? In the last few days, you were all worked up thinking you and Brett might get back on track.

Um, back on track? You mean like sex for the first time in over three months? You didn’t even have sex last night.

I couldn’t decide which voice was more critical. My proper, try-to-do-life-right voice, or my more sarcastic tone, always on the ready to point out just how ridiculous things were.

True story: I couldn’t recall the last time I had sex with Brett.

Nash returned before the waiter did. He stopped by the table and glanced down at me. “Shall we go?”

“Our waiter hasn’t brought our checks.”

“I’ve taken care of it.”

I felt my nostrils actually flare as I looked up at Nash. “Wow. So you’re that kind of overbearing gentleman,” I muttered as I reached for my purse.

Nash, being the gentleman in question, pulled my chair back as I stood, not even deigning to offer a reply.

I told myself I most certainly didn’t notice the way his warm touch felt like a hot brand on my low back when he placed his palm there as a group of people passing by jostled me.

Flutters spun in my belly, and the heat from his touch radiated outward.

I was so flustered by my response to him, and my annoyance with my entire day, I elected to pretend everything was fine.

Once we were outside on the sidewalk, I looked up at him. “Thank you for lunch.”

I didn’t bother to argue about the bill. There was no sense in it. I really didn’t have the money to cover my lunch. It would’ve gone on the credit card that was about to be maxed out if it wasn’t already.

“Anytime,” Nash replied. “Where are you heading now?”

I bit back the urge to tell him it was none of his damn business. I did have some manners, after all.

“I’ll be heading home. Thank you for at least filling me in on what you know about Brett. It was”—I paused and then shrugged—“illuminating.”

“My offer still stands.”

“Excuse me?” I asked, confused by what he meant.

“To help you find Brett.”

I mulled it over for a beat before replying, “I appreciate your offer, but I don’t think there’s much point in trying to find Brett. It’s best for me to move on.”