Time Out (13 page)

She shook her
head in denial. “It’s not like that. We don’t have that kind of
relationship.”

He sat down in
the guest chair across from her desk and leaned forward. “He must
think an awful lot of you to do somethin’ like this.”

No one had ever
done anything even remotely close to that for her. She couldn’t
even begin to process her feelings: anger that Nick had interfered
in a situation that was none of his business, shock that he would
give that kind of money to a complete stranger, and fear that he
was trying to take care of her. The strongest emotion of all was
awe. The knowledge that men like Nick really existed was
mind-blowing.

“I can’t
believe he did this. He shouldn’t have.”

“No, he
shouldn’t have. You don’t owe me anything, Megan. If anything, I
owe you… an apology. I was angry at your mother, and myself, and I
took that out on you. I’m sorry.”

Megan was still
reeling from Nick’s act of kindness. She didn’t know how much more
she could take in one day. “I don’t want anything from you. I never
did. I want to repay the money but not like this.” She reached into
her purse and extracted the envelope she’d intended to mail later
that day. “Here. This is the first payment. It’s important to me
that I repay my debts. I can’t let Nick do it for me. I hope you
understand.”

Manny reached
for the envelope and Nick’s check. He tore both in half. “I don’t
want your money, and I don’t want your boyfriend’s money. I don’t
expect us to be able to have a relationship after everything’s that
happened, but I sure as hell won’t accept money for supporting you
while you were growin’ up. That was my obligation.” He shook his
head. “No, that was my honor.”

Tears pricked
the back of her eyes, though she would die before she would let
them fall. “I wish you’d reconsider.”

He got to his
feet. “I won’t. If you try to send me another check, I’ll only tear
it up, so save yourself the trouble.” He offered a sad smile.
“Maybe someday we can get to know each other a little better,
Megan.”

“I don’t think
so.” Too much had happened for her to ever believe he could love
her.

“I understand.”
He tossed the paper into the wastebasket beside her desk. “I wish
you well.”

Megan was shaking by
the time she pulled up in front of Nick’s house that evening. She
didn’t know what she wanted to say or how she intended to say it,
but she had to acknowledge what he had tried to do for her.

She stood on
the porch ringing the doorbell for a long time before he finally
answered. One look at his damp hair, the water running down his
chest, and the black towel knotted at his waist told her he’d just
gotten out of the shower.

He grinned.
“Hey, baby, this is a nice surprise. I was gonna come up to the
main house, but if you wanna hang out here, that’s even better.” He
stepped back, allowing her to enter. “Come on in.”

“I can wait
while you get dressed.” She nervously adjusted the purse strap on
her shoulder.

He laughed as
he pulled her into his arms. “You’re gonna get shy on me all of a
sudden?”

Nick smelled so
good, like minty mouthwash and a delicious spicy body wash. “We
have to talk.”

His sexy
dimpled grin was all it took to make her heart skip a beat.
Damn
him
. No man had the right to be so tempting without even
trying.

“I’m
listenin’.”

“Why don’t you…
uh… go and put some clothes on? I can wait.” That would give her a
chance to practice breathing. Sometime after he opened the door,
she seemed to have forgotten how to inhale without getting lost in
his delectable scent.

“I’d rather
not.” He lowered his head, grazing her neck with his teeth. “In
fact, I’d like to lose this towel. And as hot as you are in
business mode, I’d much rather see you wearin’ nothin’ at all.” He
reached for the zipper running down the back of her fitted black
dress.

“Manny came to
see me today. He told me what you did.”

He froze. “I
didn’t expect him to do that.”

“I’m sure you
didn’t. You wanna tell me what the hell you were thinking?”

He exhaled as
he stepped back to give her some space. “I just wanted to buy you a
little peace of mind. Is that so terrible?”

It was
wonderful, but she couldn’t tell him how much she appreciated the
gesture. “You had no right.”

“I care about
you. That gives me the right.”

Feeling
restless and uncertain, Megan paced the wood floor. Her high heels’
clicking was the only sound in the room. She tried to
compartmentalize the feelings churning around inside of her.
Gratitude. Disbelief. And something much more powerful and…
alarming.

“Look, things
are different in your world. I get that. You have a big extended
family, lots of friends, and you always have each other’s backs.
That’s nice, but that’s not my world. Where I grew up, you didn’t
risk getting to know your neighbors. Friends passed through your
life. Family was…”

“Was what,
sweetheart? I want to know. I want to know what happened to make
you feel you can’t count on anyone.”

She didn’t come
here intending to share any part of her past with him, but the
genuine concern in his eyes made shutting him out completely
impossible. “Do you have any wine?” she asked, suddenly needing a
drink to take the edge off.

He smiled.
“Sure, there’re a few bottles of white in the fridge, red in the
wine rack at the end of the counter. You can help yourself while I
throw some clothes on.”

She was
grateful he seemed to understand she needed to take her time.
“Would you like wine too?”

“Actually, I
think I’ll have a beer.”

“Okay.” She
walked into the spacious open-concept kitchen and started rifling
through the drawers looking for a corkscrew. She found a photo of a
beautiful brunette wearing a tiny black bikini. Jealousy hit her
hard and fast, like a sucker punch that knocked the wind out of
her. She stared at the photo, wondering who this woman was to Nick.
Was she an ex-girlfriend, someone he was currently seeing… was she
in love with him? Did she hope to become his wife one day?

“Hey, did you…”
Nick stopped in the doorway when he saw her staring at the
photograph.

“She’s lovely,”
Megan said, reaching for the corkscrew. Turning her back, she
reached into the stainless steel fridge, hoping he couldn’t tell
she was seething with possessiveness and dying to demand answers to
questions she had no right to ask.

He straddled a
stool at the breakfast bar and waited for her to turn around. “If
you’re curious about her, you can just ask, you know.”

“I’m not.” Her
hand shook as she tried to fit the spiral over the cork.

He folded his
arms across the granite countertop and stared at her. “Okay, you
don’t want to know. I won’t tell you.”

Megan knew he
was testing her. Her pride told her to let it go, but her curiosity
won out. “Fine. Tell me, who is she?”

“My
ex-girlfriend Brandi.”

“Oh.” His
ex-girlfriend. Translation: his ex-lover. “You kept her picture.
You must still have feelings for her.”

He laced his
fingers and leaned forward. “No. I stuck it in the drawer a long
time ago and forgot it was even there.”

“If you say
so.” Men threw away or burned pictures of their former wives and
girlfriends.

“Meg,” he said,
reaching for her hand. “She means nothing to me.”

“Whatever you
say.” She pulled the cork out of the bottle before looking for a
wine glass in the cupboards. “You don’t owe me an explanation.”

“We made love
last night. I’d say that gives you the right to ask me about the
women I’m seein’.”

She whirled
around so fast she almost clipped her head on an open cupboard
door. “You said you weren’t seeing anyone.”

He rested his
chin in his palm as he tried to hide his smile behind his curled
fingers. “I thought you didn’t care.”

“I don’t. What
you do and who you see is your business.” She couldn’t believe
she’d fallen right into his trap.

“That’s an
argument for another day.”

She reached
into the fridge for his beer before pouring a generous amount of
wine into her glass.

Hoping for a
neutral topic that wouldn’t prompt her to make a fool of herself
again, she said, “Your home is beautiful.” His house was warm and
inviting with high ceilings, plenty of natural light, warm tones,
and dark, textured furniture. It was masculine, like him, but she
could imagine a woman comfortably occupying the space as well.

She closed her
eyes when she imagined herself standing at the counter, making her
favorite dinner for the two of them to share before they retired to
his bedroom to enjoy each other.
God, get a grip, Megan.

He reached for
the opener and popped the top on his bottle. “What are you
thinkin’? And don’t say nothin’. I can tell by that look in your
eye that whatever it was made you happy.”

“Um, nothing. I
was just thinking about an interview I did today. It went well.”
She had had a great interview with record producer Drake Elliott
that morning, but he wasn’t the reason for the heat coursing
through her body. She licked her lips and prayed Nick couldn’t read
her mind.

His blue eyes
darkened. “You wanna try again?”

“Nick…”

He got up and
rounded the counter.

“You were
thinkin’ about us. What happened last night… or maybe you were
fantasizin’ about goin’ into my bedroom and…” His words were lost
as he kissed a path down her neck.

“Stop.” They
both knew her words held no conviction. She didn’t want him to stop
any more than he did.

He tipped his
head back and looked her in the eye. “Is that really what you
want?”

“Yes. No. I
don’t know anymore. I’m so confused.” She rubbed her temple to
stave off a tension headache.

He sighed.
“Look, I’d never do anything you don’t want me to do. You know
that. I’m crazy about you. Hell, you make me crazy, but I’m not
gonna push. Take all the time you need to get used to the idea of
us bein’ a couple.”

“But we’re
not-”

He silenced her
with a kiss that left no doubt about his intentions.

Nick was used
to being in control, and he was obviously willing to employ every
tactic in his arsenal to get what he wanted: her in his bed. Just
the thought made Megan want to fan her face to stem the heat
creeping through her body.

When he smiled,
she was already drunk on his kisses, so his appeal rocked her to
the core. “This isn’t fair,” she murmured, dropping her head. “Why
do you have to be so damn sexy?”

He chuckled,
the sound reverberating through his body and sending little chills
through hers. “If you expect me to apologize for turnin’ you on, I
won’t.”

“Can we just
take a minute? I need to sit down.”

Nick held her
hand and led her into the family room. He sat on the distressed
leather sofa before coaxing her to join him. “Tell me about your
day, aside from Manny’s visit. We can get into that later.”

“It was good. I
interviewed Drake Elliott, the music producer. That went really
well. He’s actually a very nice guy, in spite of his reputation as
a tyrant.”

Nick tipped his
beer bottle back. “How do you like the job so far?”

“Actually, I
like it a lot more than I thought I would. In L.A., I was covering
mostly actors and mainstream musicians for the show. I kind of like
this niche.”

“Yet you
couldn’t see yourself doin’ it long term?”

Megan knew he
was fishing for information about her future plans, trying to
convince her Nashville was the right place to put down roots. But
in her business, Los Angeles was the place to be. She only hoped a
year would buy her enough time for the industry to forget about her
indiscretion with her last producer.

“I know what I
want, where I want to be five, ten years from now. And it’s not
here.”

Nick set his
beer bottle down on the table and wedged his leg between hers.
“Tell me about your long-term plan. What’ll your life look like
when you finally have everything you want?”

She took a sip
of her wine, then another. When she realized how good it was, she
indulged in another. She needed time and liquid courage if she was
going to answer his question honestly. “I want my own entertainment
show on a major network. But I want more control, maybe producing
or directing.”

“Interestin’.”
He slid his arm along the back of the sofa and massaged her neck.
“What else?”

“What else is
there?” She closed her eyes and savored his gentle touch.

“Marriage,
kids. You ever think about that?”

“Not really.
When things didn’t work out with Brock, I realized I just wasn’t
cut out for that. If I couldn’t make it work with him, chances of
making it work with anyone are slim. He really was every woman’s
fantasy, and yet, he wasn’t mine. What does that say about me?”

“That you’re
not willin’ to settle. Logan wasn’t the right guy for you. Instead
of goin’ through the motions and pretendin’ to be happy, you cut
him loose. I admire that.”

She couldn’t
think straight when he used his strong hands to manipulate her into
a state of tranquility she hadn’t felt in a long, long time.

He shifted her
body so her back was to him. He continued to massage further down
her spine.

By the time he
undid her zipper and slid the dress off her shoulders, she was too
relaxed to object. “How does that feel?” he whispered.

“Amazing.” She
felt his smile when he pressed his mouth to her bare shoulder.

“You know, just
because Logan wasn’t your soul mate doesn’t mean
he
isn’t
out there just waitin’ for you to realize how much you need
him.”