I sucked in a tiny, useless inhalation.
“You’re adorable when you freak out.”
“I’m not freaking out. I’m…processing your ludicrous suggestion.”
“If it makes you feel better, this is just temporary,” he said, his voice annoyingly calm.
Temporary. Temporary. Temporary. Just like our relationship. One day at a time until…after.
Nash brought my hands to the back of his neck and then began to sway.
“Why do you keep slow dancing with me?”
“Because I like being close to you even when we have all our clothes on.”
“This can’t be the best solution,” I insisted. “Why don’t we all move in to the motel?”
“He wasn’t joking about the rats,” Nash pointed out.
“Okay, fine. We’ll all move in with Naomi and Knox. They’ve got room.”
“You don’t think that’ll get the entire town talking? The whole point of this is to make things look as normal as possible from the outside.”
“What is normal about this?” I demanded. “Besides, won’t people start talking about Nolan staying at my place? I mean, they’ll think I’m sleeping with you both. Or that we’re in some weird throuple.”
“Or they’ll think my federally issued protection is staying with me to protect me. Or they’ll think you and I are serious and Nolan wanted to get out of the roach motel.”
Damn it. He’d thought of everything. The sneaky, conniving son of a bitch.
I was impressed.
And terrified.
“I’m not going to become Suzy Homemaker and suddenly learn to cook,” I warned.
“Noted.”
“And you better not use your bathroom floor for a hamper. I saw Mount St. Dirty Clothes the day we brought Piper home.”
“Do I need to get the broccoli out of the freezer?” he asked, rubbing his cheek against the top of my head.
“No. Maybe.”
FORTY
SMILE PRETTY FOR THE CAMERA
Lina
“Ican’t believe you’re making me do this,” Nash said as a makeup artist dabbed powder across his brow. Out of patience, he dodged her hand. “Can we be done? Please?”
I was perched on the counter in his office, enjoying the hell out of his discomfort under the heat of the photographer’s lights.
For the past few days, I’d been the one suffering discomfort, being forced to move in with him…temporarily, I reminded myself. But that meant in the meantime, me, my clothing, my makeup, even my damn houseplant were now living in Nash’s apartment.
For the last forty-eight hours, I’d slept in Nash’s bed, brushed my teeth at his sink, and gotten dressed in his bathroom. Then I’d sat at his table and eaten the breakfasts and dinners he made me.
I drew the line at pooping while he was home. To be safe, I’d temporarily cut back on fiber.
To be honest, minus my fear of sharing a bathroom, the living situation hadn’t been as weird as I’d expected. But that was probably because most of our quality time was spent naked and the rest of it was working out details of the Nash’s-fake-memory-recovery-to-lure-Duncan-Hugo-out-of-hiding plan.
The makeup artist packed up her gear and hustled out of the room. I slid off the counter and approached Nash. He was in uniform and scowling, a combination I found utterly appealing.
“Need I remind you? This was your idea,” I said, running my palms across his broad chest. He’d been putting weight back on, steadily adding muscle to his frame. And I’d noticed him using his bad shoulder with fewer grimaces. My heart had given up on its nervous PVCs for the most part, and I wondered if earth-shattering sex was some kind of miracle cure-all.
“My idea was to spread the word that my memory was back. Not shout it from a national online magazine with a goddamn photo shoot,” he complained.
“Poor baby. But we have to make sure the news spreads far and wide in case Duncan is in hiding across the country.”
“How did Stef even pull this off?” Nash demanded, tugging irritably on his collar.
“He’s got a PR firm on retainer. Naomi called him, he called them, and here we are.”
“Remind me to drop a weight plate on his foot at the gym next time I see him.”
I grinned.
“What?”
“I kind of like it when you’re surly. It’s cute,” I confessed.
“I’m not surly and it’s not fucking cute.”
“Okay. You’re broody and it’s sexy.”
His jaw ticked as he pondered that one. “I can live with that.”
“Are you worried?” I asked, cuddling up to him.
Nash slid his fingers into the back pockets of my pants. “He’s unpredictable. I could be putting myself out there as bait and he could still ignore me and go after someone else.”
“Knox isn’t going to let Naomi or Waylay out of his sight for the foreseeable future. You’re the one who’s going to be drawing Duncan’s attention. You’re the biggest threat. He won’t be able to resist trying to finish the job.” I shook my head and closed my eyes.
“What?” Nash asked.
“I can’t believe I’m comforting my live-in lover with the fact that the man who tried to murder him once will make a second attempt,” I said. “Nothing about this situation is normal.”
“Live-in lover?” he repeated.
“Boy toy? Man friend? Emotional support fuck?”
“Boyfriend,” Nash decided. He grinned when I winced. “For a badass, you sure spook easy.”
“I’m not spooked,” I lied.
“You think I can’t tell when my girlfriend is panicking?”
“Now you’re just being a Nashhole,” I complained, stepping out of his grasp. “Let’s table the labeling of whatever this is until after.”
He leaned against his desk, still grinning. “I like knowing I can rattle you.”
“Yeah? Well, I like it better when you’re freaking out over cosmetics and a photo shoot for a national magazine.”
He winced. “Now who’s being mean, Meana?”
“Here, have a mint,” I said, handing him one of the wrapped candies I’d snagged from the restaurant’s host stand on our first date.
“I don’t want a mint. I want…” He trailed off as the wrapper crinkled in his hand. He frowned down at it, lost in thought.
“What?” I asked.
He shook himself. “Nothing. Just felt like I was remembering something.”
“About the shooting?” I prodded.
“Maybe. It’s gone now.”
“If you’re a good boy, I’ll take you for ice cream,” I offered, changing the subject.
His fingers hooked into the waistband of my pants and tugged me closer.
“Your pepper spray is digging into my stomach,” I warned him.
“How about instead of a photo shoot and ice cream, I sit you on my desk and spread those long, sexy legs of yours wide? I’ll go down on my knees and kiss my way up your thighs.”
A delicious shiver worked its way up my spine as he slid one hand lower to cup my rear end. His hand was warm, the grip possessive.