Return of the Jerk (Sweet Life in Seattle, Book 2) (32 page)

“Excuse me?” Natalie says.

And then to both Blair’s and Natalie’s astonishment, Fiona starts laying out a crash-course marketing plan for them. Telling them how they first need to create a cookbook with baking recipes. “That’s a
must
,” Fiona insists. “You should do that right away. Don’t wait!” She tells them they also need to start selling merchandise with their name on it—aprons, coffee mugs, and T-shirts. They need to do everything in their power to capture their brand. She talks about the kind of ads they need to focus on, ways to get more media exposure. “Love the name, love it! But my
God
, you must
own
it.”

After Fiona goes to the restroom, Natalie’s eyebrows are still raised. “She’s weird, but I have to admit, that was incredible. I loved every single idea.”

Blair nods in amazement.

Driving home, Blair turns to Fiona. “What are you, like an idiot-savant or something?”

Fiona smirks. “Or
something
.”

LATER THE SAME
night, Blair is in bed reading, trying to pretend she isn’t waiting up for Nathan.
How long does it take to tune-up a car?

Nobody was around when she came home after her errands, so she just hung out with Mr. Maurice, enjoying the peace and quiet.

She glances down at the oversized T-shirt and shorts she wears to bed every night. Fiona was full of advice on the drive back from the bakery about how she needed to ramp up her game.

“You’re not torturing him enough.
That’s
the problem.”

“I don’t want to torture Nathan.”

“Yes, you do. If you want him, that’s exactly what you need to do.”

Blair rolled her eyes.

“Don’t worry,” Fiona said. “I’m going to help.”

“Please, just stay out of it. I don’t want your help.”

“Yes, you do. You
need
my help!”

Blair throws the covers off and goes over to her closet, stares at the few nighties she has hanging there.
Hearing Fiona’s business ideas about La Dolce Vita was one thing, but am I really going to start taking advice on my love life from the Wicked Witch?

She sighs.

And just as she’s changed into a silky crimson nightie with spaghetti straps and matching panties, she hears the front door open and close.

Blair stops, listens. There are no voices, just footsteps—definitely Nathan’s—heading toward the bedroom. She freezes, but he walks past and goes into the office instead.

Quickly, Blair throws her clothes in the hamper then pulls the band out of her hair and shakes it loose. She takes some perfume off her dresser and squirts a mist of it in the air before walking through it.

Then she puts on her pink robe and goes out to find him.

Nathan’s sitting behind his desk wearing a dark gray Henley, his blond hair pulled back into a short ponytail. She hasn’t seen it like that in years, and the sight stops her.

God, he’s beautiful.

He glances up from the open computer in front of him. “What’s up, princess?”

“Nothing. I heard you come in and just thought I’d say hello.”

Road scrolls through his phone for something, then types into his computer.

“Did you go out somewhere with Fiona?” she asks.

“No, dropped her off at Sachi’s.”

“Really?”

He nods, continues typing.

“Hopefully, that’s a good sign.”

“Yeah, hope so.” Nathan starts to chuckle. “Did you really pour iced coffee on Fiona while she was sleeping this morning?”

Blair doesn’t say anything. It figures Fiona would rat her out despite their supposed bonding today.

He stops typing for a moment and glances up at her. “Take it by your silence it’s true?”

“She made me mad.”

Nathan chuckles some more, but doesn’t seem bothered. “That’s some crazy shit, babe.”

“I’m not usually like that. She brings it out in me.”

He smirks but seems focused on his work again.

Blair continues to stand there. She studies the air mattress he never uses and probably never will. She shifts her weight from one leg to the other, feeling awkward and stupid.
Why did I even bother with the nightie and perfume?

“You’re obviously busy,” she says. “I’m going to go.”

There must have been something in her voice, though, because Nathan looks up again. His laser focus is already turned on, and she can see he’s directing it at her.

He takes in her face, hair, robe, legs, and then goes back to her face. A smile pulls at his mouth, his eyes interested. “Guess I’m done now.”

“Are you?”

“Yeah, definitely. Don’t go.” She watches him close his computer down. He pushes his chair back, but doesn’t get up. “Come over here.”

Blair feels awkward, like it’s so obvious she’s trying to seduce him. “You can keep working on your computer. I don’t care.”

“Don’t want to anymore.” He’s watching her. “Don’t be shy. What’s underneath that robe?”

“Nothing much.”

“Why don’t you show me?”

She sees the heat in his eyes and decides,
if I’m in, might as well be in all the way
. Blair walks over and stands in front of him, his gaze steady on her the whole time.

He motions with his head. “Let me see. Are you naked underneath?”

Blair unties the robe and slips it off so all she has on is the crimson nightie. It’s silky and short, and drapes over her hips and breasts in a way she knows is flattering.

“Goddamn.” Nathan’s brows go up when he sees her. “Is today my birthday?”

She laughs, knowing his birthday is in December. “This old thing? All my other clothes are in the wash.”

There’s a flash of white from his grin. “Laundry day.”

“Afraid so.”

He licks his lower lip. “Lucky me. Let’s make sure we have laundry day more often.”

Blair smiles, though the expression on his face has her catching her breath.

“Come here.” He reaches out for her. “Have a seat.”

She goes to sit on his lap, but he stops her. “Not like that. Face me.”

Blair does as he asks and climbs onto Nathan so she’s straddling him. It’s a tight fit in the office chair, but doable. She can feel the thick column of his erection beneath his jeans, pressing at her center.

He takes his hands away. Doesn’t touch her, just leans back for a second, lets his eyes roam over her, clearly enjoying the view. “Damn. I don’t care what you say, today is definitely my birthday.”

Blair pretends indifference, though secretly she’s pleased.

Nathan reaches across and brushes her hair off her shoulder, trails his fingers down her neck and arm, leaving sparks on her skin. “So elegant,” he murmurs. He takes her wrist then runs his thumb down over her palm, studying her.

“You keep saying that.”

“Because it’s true. You’re one of those girls I was always supposed to keep my hands off.”

“What do you mean?”

But he just shakes his head, lets her wrist go and grips her hips instead, then slides his hands around to cup her ass. “Nothing. That shit doesn’t matter anymore.”

Blair isn’t entirely sure what he’s talking about. She brings her arms up and rests them on his solid shoulders, reaches around to tug on his ponytail. “I like this. It’s cute.”

“Had to keep my hair out of the way while I was working on the car.”

“How did it go?”

“Good. Definitely running better.”

“Thanks for doing that.”

His eyes are on hers, and he doesn’t seem to want to look away. They drop to her mouth. “No problem,” he says. He leans in and kisses her, then kisses her some more.

She sighs with bliss because he tastes so good. Feels so good. His smoky scent drifts around her, pulling her into the undertow. He deepens the kiss and she’s all-in for a while, but then pushes him away.

“What’s wrong?” he breathes, trying to draw her back again.

She turns her head to the side, but doesn’t say anything.

Nathan looks at her questioningly. “Something on your mind?”

Blair nods and lets out a deep sigh. “What exactly are we doing here with each other?”

He grins a little, runs his hand down her spine. “Thought we were celebrating my birthday.”

Blair smiles, despite herself. “You know what I mean.” She pauses. “Are we friends, lovers, what?”

He considers this. Shrugs. “Guess we’re kind of exploring things.”

“Are you sleeping with anybody else?”

“Babe, how could I be? I’m here with you every night.”

She gives him a look. “You know what I mean.”

He reaches up to tuck some hair behind her ear and speaks in an earnest voice. “This is really putting a damper on my birthday surprise.”

“Nathan, I’m serious.”

He meets her eyes and shakes his head. “No, I’m not with anybody else. I don’t want to be.”

“What about Marla? Fiona told me you were out with her a couple of weeks ago.”

“Christ, no.” His expression turns slightly horrified.

Blair watches him closely, but it’s obvious he’s telling the truth. “What about that night at your mom’s party when you didn’t come back.”

Nathan’s brows come together. “What about it?”

“Who were you with then?”

“No one.”

Blair studies him.

“So, what, now you’re the jealous wife all of a sudden?”

She sighs, looking down at the drape of red silk in her lap. “This just isn’t the way I do things. I’m not a casual sex person. Even though I know we’re not actually having ‘real’ sex, it’s close enough.” She looks back up at him.

His eyes soften. Nathan puts his hand up to her cheek, slides his fingers into her hair. “It’s okay, I know what you mean. You’re a good girl,” but then he amends it, “a good woman. I get that.”

Blair doesn’t say anything to this, can’t, because she knows the truth about what she did to him all those years ago.
And there was nothing good about it.

“Come on, let’s take this into my bedroom,” Blair said, getting up from the couch and pulling on Road’s hand.

He grabbed the bottle of Jack Daniels from the coffee table and followed her out of the living room.

Blair led him straight to her room then closed the door behind him. She felt like a thief, stealing something that didn’t belong to her, but then decided that was absurd. Gwen cheated on him. The truth was none of his Skank Factor X girlfriends deserved him to begin with.

Road grinned at her, tried pulling her over onto the bed, but Blair had other plans. She took the bottle and put it on her nightstand, turned back to him.

“Strip for me,” she said.

Road chuckled. “Ladies first.”

“Come on.” Blair softened her voice. “I promise I’ll go next.”

Road shrugged. He reached behind to pull his T-shirt off. Blair sat on the bed, ready to enjoy the show, but to her amazement he was undressed in less than ten seconds. His black Metallica shirt, faded jeans, boxers, socks, shoes, all of it was in a pile at the foot of her bed.

She opened her mouth. Road stood before her—one long, naked, muscular man, cock semi-hard. She stared at it with raised brows.

He walked back over to the nightstand to grab the bottle, clearly comfortable with his nudity. She had to admit he looked incredible. After years of imagining him without clothes, she wasn’t disappointed.