Nate Read online

  “You’re already a great dad.”

  “I know. And you will be, too.”

  Logan drew in a ragged breath, then that emotion was gone. It took some effort before the old Logan was smirking back at me. “Are we good? Is our Soul Brotha Connection couples therapy session done?”

  I wanted to laugh, but I stared at him long and hard. “I love you. I love Mason. But I’m going to say this once. If you or anyone else ever pulls something like that on Quincey again, there will be a rift between us, and it’ll be one that won’t get healed.”

  I was dead serious.

  Logan saw it, and he straightened. The amusement left him. “I know. That’s why I had to see if she’s worth it.”

  I wasn’t going to ask if he thought she was. I knew he did. He threw down for her at the dinner against her sister. So did Taylor. Quincey didn’t know what it was like to have a family like I did, but she would.

  I clapped him on the shoulder, and we both headed upstairs.

  He went upstairs to Taylor, and I headed to my room.

  Quincey wasn’t in it, so I poked my head into Nova’s room. She was sleeping. Not wanting to risk waking her, I headed back and around to the other side of Quincey’s room.

  Her bathroom light was on, her door closed.

  I let out some tension that I hadn’t known I was carrying and went over to her bed. I sat and waited.

  When I heard her shower start, I stood and crossed the room.

  Opening her door, she was standing under the spray of water, her head down.

  Did I love Quincey?

  I didn’t know.

  But I cared about her, and that was strong enough for me to know this was worth it. What the ‘it’ was, I didn’t know myself, but I was willing to find out.

  That decision made, I headed inside.

  I was stripping when she saw me, and she gasped, but then her eyes darkened as I stepped inside with her.

  “Was it a good talk?”

  “Yes.” And then there was no more talking.

  I hoisted her up and pushed her against the wall the same time my mouth dropped to hers. Then it was just her, me, and a whole fuckuva lot of sex.

  44

  Quincey

  “Girl. You have been busy.”

  That was an understatement. I was meeting Ricci for coffee because the few phone calls we’d had weren’t doing the trick. She slid into her chair across from me. We were holed up at a table in the far corner, the coffee shop bustling on a Sunday afternoon, and I gave her a look.

  “You’re telling me.”

  Ricci cupped her hands around her mug and leaned forward. “No. I want you to tell me, please. You’re in the new production?”

  I nodded.

  “I’ve seen the pictures on the gossip blogs. I want to know everything.”

  I frowned. “Gossip blogs?”

  She sat back, her eyes widening a bit. “You don’t know?”

  “No.”

  What could be on a gossip blog? They never cared about Seattle dancers, and Nate was known, but he wasn’t famous.

  “There are pictures of you at dinner with your baby daddy and a whole bunch of speculation about the both of you. You didn’t know? For real?”

  I shook my head, dazed. “Why would they care?”

  “Because Nate is gorgeous, and young, and wealthy. A friend of mine reached out. She knows one of the bloggers, and she was told that they started getting more traction every time they posted a picture of Nate. I’m assuming it’s the same for the other sites. Sometimes you get famous just by knowing famous people, and your baby daddy knows some famous people.”

  “I wish you would stop calling him that.”

  “Oh.” She winced. “Sorry, but honestly. What’s the scoop? You guys were at a dinner, and the way he was looking at you? It was making me all hot and bothered.” Then her eyes bulged out. “Oh my God. Your dad. He must be going crazy. You know how he is, thinking he owns you and can control you.” She edged back, frowning to herself. Her finger began tapping against her mug in a distracted and absentminded way. “Wait. You said he backed down from the court thing against you. You think he’s letting you go?”

  I sat there.

  “No.” She answered her own question, her gaze falling down to the table. “That doesn’t seem like him. Anyway.”

  I wasn’t a part of this conversation.

  She flashed me a smile. “How’s it going? Also, I had a date last night.”

  “Ricci!” I lunged for her, my excitement more because I needed a break from the questions, and I grabbed her wrists.

  She squealed, letting go of her mug, but she caught my hands in hers and squeezed. “Yes?”

  I laughed. “Tell me about the date.”

  She laughed, letting go of me and sitting back.

  I sat back, too, finally feeling some tension easing when she started talking.

  She met him online. He seemed nice. His name was Marshall. They went to dinner and had drinks afterward, and she ended with, “I slept with him, but he was gone this morning, and I’m pretty sure I’ll never hear from him again.”

  She was looking at me as if I was supposed to say something.

  “I have no experience with online dating or dating in general. It’s been years since I went on a date.” I wasn’t including Nate because I hadn’t told her about the “us” that was happening, so I wasn’t counting him.

  “He wasn’t that good.”

  “Nate?” I frowned.

  “Huh?”

  Right. “Your date.”

  “Wait. Why were you thinking about Nate just then? Is there something going on between you two?”

  “No.”

  “You’re lying.”

  I drew in a breath. Ricci always knew me the most out of everyone.

  “You are! You totally are. I can see it. And pfft you. You were just lying to me about not having experience dating.”

  “Any current experience.”

  “Whatever’s going on between you and Nate is current. You’re a liar.”

  She was right.

  Dammit.

  I sighed and then told her everything. Almost everything. I kept back the part where he got mad at his friend last night.

  “Wow.”

  “I know.”

  She looked like she was having a hard time breathing.

  I raised an eyebrow. “You okay?”

  “I know I shouldn’t, but I’m imagining having sex with that man, and I’m about to come right here.”

  “Ricci!”

  She started laughing, half falling out of her chair.

  I couldn’t fight my own grin.

  Then she sobered and straightened back in her chair. “You need to listen to what I’m about to say to you and understand that it’s coming from someone who loves you. Go with him.”

  “What?”

  “You said you’re worried he’ll want to take Nova to Boston. If he does, go. Seriously. Get away from here. Get a new start, a fresh start. Get away from your dad. If you’re here, you’re going to always feel him over you.”

  “But my mom and Graham…”

  “They’re here, and they love you, but I know you. You’re almost glowing, and that has to do with Nova and Nate. Stick with what’s making you happy. You can dance there if you want to keep dancing.”

  “Emily—”

  “There’ll be people there who can help.” Her mouth curved down. “I will miss you, but you can visit. You can fly back, see me, see your mom, Graham, whoever. See Calihan if she pulls the stick out of her ass.”

  I’d never considered the thought of going with him if that’s what he wanted.

  “Nate hasn’t said anything. I might be creating a problem that’s not even there.”

  “I’d say it’s there. He’s seriously close to his friends, and they’re there. He’s only here because of Nova. He can work from everywhere, right? He invests in companies? That’s what he does.”

&n
bsp; I nodded. “Yeah. He does really well.”

  “What about his family?”

  “He doesn’t seem close to his parents, but he is to his sister.”

  She set aside her coffee and leaned over the table, taking my hands. She linked our fingers, and she gave me a solemn look. “Just promise me that you’ll consider it. I like the happy look you have going, and I want you to keep it.”

  My throat closed up with emotion suddenly, but I swallowed it away and nodded. “I will.” I squeezed her hands. “You’re a good friend.”

  She snorted. “I’m the best kind of friend there is. I get to regale you with stories of my online dating adventures, and you get to tell me what it’s like falling in love with someone like Nate Monson.”

  Her words were teasing.

  I didn’t think she meant them.

  But I stiffened at hearing them because she was right.

  I knew I’d been falling for him, but it was done and complete.

  I was in love with Nate Monson.

  45

  Nate

  Logan and Taylor headed back to Boston, and Quincey had been quiet through the rest of the week. She was quiet normally, but it felt like more. Dinner with Nova was a bit more subdued, and even bath times, she was there. She was active. She was tickling and making Nova laugh. She was holding her when Nova wanted to be held. She was doing everything right, but… it was like she was pulling inside herself.

  I didn’t like it.

  I hated it, actually.

  I tried to draw her out in bed, and it worked. She’d come alive in my arms, but once I shifted out of bed, she was withdrawing. She was a shell of herself.

  I had no idea how to stop it.

  I brought it up in conversation, and at first, it sparked her back to me, but that waned after a few days. Her mother and stepfather came over for visits. They reached out this week more as well, wanting to see Nova. I waited, but Quincey was the same with them. I was toying with the idea of having Graham stop by for a surprise visit, but I didn’t want that to backfire on me.

  I worried it was dancing, but she was the same on her rest day, too.

  Her premiere was coming up, so maybe it was that?

  God. I was hoping it was because I was wracking my brain, and I had no clue what it could be. The more she pulled away, the more I became fixated on keeping her here with me.

  I was at a loss, so I was on the phone with my sister.

  “I don’t know what to do.”

  I ran it down for her already.

  She was quiet for a moment, a long moment. “You’re sleeping together?”

  “Yeah.” I explained that.

  “And you had the talk about where you guys were as being together together?”

  I frowned. I hadn’t explained that. “Err, no.”

  She expelled a snort. “You gotta talk to her.”

  “I did. I tried.”

  “Try again.”

  “Aspen, you don’t get it. She’s not—”

  “She’s female. Sometimes, you have to try more than once.”

  “I did.”

  Why was I fighting my sister on this?

  “Try. Again.” She sounded exasperated. Then “Hey!”

  A rustling sound.

  “Nathaniel.”

  I gritted my teeth, hearing my brother-in-law on the phone. Not because I was hearing Blaise, but because he’d taken to using my full name, and I wasn’t a fan of my full name.

  “Asswipe.”

  He grunted. “I’ll accept that.”

  “Blaise!” From Aspen. She wasn’t amused.

  His voice sounded from afar. I was guessing he turned away. “I’m a dude. You are not, and thank God you aren’t, but let me explain it to him real simple. Nate.” His voice was clearer. “Chicks want groveling. They want to be princesses. It’s not their fault. They were taught to want that before they’re out of the womb, man. You need to pamper her, and I’m not talking wining and dining. I’m talking you make them feel loved and cherished and respected. They’ve got like a Mason jar of feelings, and depending on your chick, it could be clear, or it could be all muddied up. I’m betting yours is muddied up from what Aspen’s shared with me, so you’re the rag. You gotta get in there and wipe that jar clean. Make it sparkle and shine and all that jazz, and when it is, typically, your chick will love you forever. You want her to love you forever?”

  Love?

  “Uh…”

  Love?!

  Blaise sighed on his end. “Oh, boy. That’s situation number one to handle. What do you want? You need to figure that out. When you do, either leave the jar alone or get in there and start cleaning.”

  “You are—”

  Blaise turned from the phone. “What am I?”

  “I don’t know, but give me the phone back. Also, I love you. A lot. Also, I don’t expect to be treated like a princess.”

  “I’m aware. That’s why I fell fucking hard for you, and you love me a lot because I make sure your jar is cleaned, babe.” Blaise was sounding smug. “Peace out, Nathaniel. Listen to me. I know my shit when it comes to women.”

  Aspen was back on the phone, and she rumbled, “I hate to give him some credit, but he’s not wrong. It does sound like you need to know where you are sitting and then go from there.”

  We talked a bit more, but the meat of the phone call was done. And I wasn’t sure if I had been helped or not. I needed to know what I wanted.

  Got it.

  I could do that.

  But…

  What did I want?

  46

  Quincey

  I woke to kisses on my back.

  Nate’s hand moved the blanket off me.

  I was rolled away from him, half on my stomach, and I felt him kiss down my neck.

  My shoulders.

  He tugged my tank up and rolled it off my head, then went back and began kissing down my spine.

  Pleasure was pulsing through my body.

  I shivered, a good shiver and my insides were melting into one giant throb kind of shiver. I needed him. I wanted him.

  I began to roll toward him because I was going to have him.

  He held me down. “No. Let me do this.”

  “What?”

  But my breath hitched because I liked this. A lot.

  I was excited about this.

  But I growled because I wanted him, even if he was the one to start this.

  He moved my underwear down, and then his mouth was there, and I was gasping.

  “Nate!”

  I heard and felt him chuckle at the same time.

  It was sending me reeling.

  His lips moved, searching me, and he was holding my hips in his hands. He was keeping me anchored for him.

  Oh.

  My.

  God.

  I couldn’t—I gasped when his tongue hit deep, and I grabbed for the bed to keep myself in place.

  I didn’t need to worry. His hold on my hips was strong. He was holding me exactly where he wanted, and as a silent scream worked up through my throat, he angled my hips higher, and then I felt him line up behind me.

  He lay almost over me, moving and grabbing my wrists in both hands, then he thrust in.

  It was intense.

  It was exhilarating.

  I couldn’t stop writhing in place, moving with him, but he held me still. This was all him as he pounded me out.

  In. Out.

  Deep.

  Hard.

  He was working me, bringing me to the edge.

  I felt his mouth on my neck again. He was tasting me, then he slid around, and I turned. I needed to taste him back. Badly.

  His mouth found mine, and he started going faster.

  “Nate,” I breathed as his tongue slid inside.

  His hands let go of my wrists and moved back to my hips. He flexed, his fingers digging into my skin, then he reared back. He paused and thrust back inside. He was almost slamming into me.

  I
loved it.

  “Harder.” I gasped.

  He paused. His hands squeezed my ass now. “You sure?”

  “Yes. God, yes.”

  I was panting, wanting to twist around to him, knowing I couldn’t, knowing he needed this, but dammit, I liked rough sex. I wanted it even harder.

  He pounded into me, gripping my ass as he bent over me. I arched up, pushing back from the headboard, and he gripped me around the neck. He angled my head, his mouth finding mine, and his tongue swept inside, keeping in rhythm with his thrusts.

  He growled. “You gotta come, Q.”

  Q.

  My climax tore through me, almost snapping me in two, and I cried out, folding over.

  The waves pulsated through my whole body, making me feel like I had an entire other heartbeat for a moment. It was so strong.

  Once I’d come down, I felt Nate pushing, digging deep, deeper, and then he stiffened over me, his own release sending a whole new wave of pleasure coursing through me.

  God.

  That was—holy fuck.

  We both collapsed, with Nate half on top of me.

  He started to move off me, but I snaked a hand out, grabbing him. “No. Stay.”

  I liked his weight.

  Who was I kidding? I loved his weight.

  I loved this.

  I felt connected to him in ways that I never knew was possible.

  And he didn’t love me back.

  No. I pushed that thought away. It didn’t matter.

  He was here. I was here. We were both together.

  Now.

  Keyword.

  Now, not later.

  I’d worry about later later.

  I pushed all those negative and self-sabotaging doubts out of my mind or to the back of my mind.

  I needed him again, and I moved, groaning from the effort but also feeling frenzied at the same time.

  Nate lifted his head, his eyes finding mine. He smiled. “Hey.”

  “Hey.”

  He stated, “I’m cleaning your jar.”

  “Huh?”

  “Nothing.” He moved in, placing a kiss to my cheek and then finding my mouth again. “I called you Q.”