can, seems to be enjoying himself. We don’t agree on everything, but I never get the impression he’s concerned or thinks of me differently because of what I say.
It’s quite the opposite, in fact. The more outrageous I seem to get, the more he pulls closer.
I manage to keep this up for a good hour, don’t even realize we’ve walked around the entire neighborhood twice.
We walk a bit longer, looping around the block and coming back to Nolan’s car.
It’s with some reluctance he lets my hands go, sliding his into his pockets and chewing on his lip. God damn it he looks good standing out here in the open, spicy hints of his cologne caught and released by my better senses, all kinds of wild and wonderful thoughts following.
“You didn’t want to scare me off. That’s it, isn’t it? That’s why you were acting so different at dinner.”
I nod, feeling like a toddler who’s just dropped a carton of eggs on the kitchen floor.
Nolan takes a hand out of his pocket, places it against my face. “Only a weak fucking fool would be scared of you.”
“And you,” I gulp, “are not weak, I take it?”
He smiles. “No.”
His hand burns there against my skin and all I want to do is get him inside, strip him bare, and have my way with him.
“I like you just the way you are, Linnea. Promise me you won’t try to be anything else.”
“I promise.”
He leans in and kisses me. It’s fleeting, barely enough, but I’ll take what I can get. I have to twist my hands together to stop myself reaching for him as he gets into his car, the window lowering with an electric whir. “I’ll see you soon.”
All I can do is nod back, the need and current inside me so strong I’m concerned it’s going to put me into shock.
I curl my lips together, can still taste him there.
I want more, so much more.
But it’s not to be.
I watch his car slowly pull away and disappear up the street.
I’m left standing on the sidewalk horny, yes, but also oddly elated. This wasn’t how I planned the night to unfold, but I’m glad it went down this way. It may not have ended with the desired result, but I have a strong feeling redemption isn’t far away.
Until then, it’s We-Vibe to the rescue.
CHAPTER FIVE
NOLAN
It’s family lunch at Dad’s place, Phoenix and Heather busy sweating all morning in the kitchen cooking up a feast.
My father, at head of the table, stands and surveys the spread, looking to Phoenix, who’s pulling a chair out for Heather. “My god, you two. You’re going to give Chef a run for his money.”
Phoenix seats himself beside Heather and smiles. “Chef’s too busy cooking mac-and-cheese for Erin to whip up anything close to fine dining.”
“Hey,” Erin shouts from the other side of the table. “That mac-and-cheese is worthy of a Michelin Star. Can you blame me?”
I look over the food myself. “To be honest, I don’t even know what half this stuff is.”
Heather starts to point things out on the table. “We’ve got a torn lamb salad here, char-grilled sweetcorn with jalapenos, a baked ricotta in the middle there with a lemon salsa made by yours truly, and the pièce de résistance, a salt-baked barramundi with braised fennel, which was all Phoenix, I might add. So please pass any complaints to him.”
Staff swoop in to serve. It occurs to me how it must look from an outsider’s perspective, this kind of silver service, but even Erin and Heather seem immune to it now.
Alissa is seated beside my father in a red strapless that’s about twenty shades too bright, but I’ve warmed to her lately, as have the others. In her own way she’s helped all of us these last couple of years—silently and without fuss. I think we’ve developed something of a quiet respect for her.
“It looks delicious.” She smiles at Phoenix and Heather. “And how’s the soup kitchen going?”
Phoenix picks up his fork and knife. “Couldn’t be better.”
“Phoenix is looking at cooking school as well,” adds Heather, “to sharpen his wider culinary skills.”
“You’ll have time for that?” asks Dad, the perennial party pooper.
Phoenix nods, bottom lip upturned. “I think I can made it work,” he says, elbowing Heather lightly. “At least with this one by my side.” He leans over to kiss her on the cheek.
“I haven’t even started eating and I’m already gagging,” says Peyton beside me, Erin elbowing him in return.
“Ow, babe,” he jerks back.