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He chuckles and shakes his head. “Not much—other than the occasional run along the shoreline. While Lake Michigan is beautiful, it doesn't hold a candle to what I’m used to.”
“You’re a water guy?”
“My father and uncles own a boat. It’s big enough to take extended trips out to open water to do some fishing.”
“How big is it?”
His gaze heats, and he waggles his eyebrows. “Wouldn’t you like to know…”
I playfully swat at his arm. “Knock it off. I meant the boat.”
“About seventy feet.”
“That's more like a yacht.”
“I guess.” He shifts, seemingly uncomfortable with the topic of conversation, almost like he doesn't want me to know the kind of money his family has. Like it would somehow change things. He’s hiding behind the name Nolan the same way I am with Jack.
Still, he’s opened the door to the obvious question. “So, you’re rich?”
He barks out a laugh that’s a little too loud for the car. “I'm not rich. My family is. I never really considered it my money. They all worked very hard for what they have, and I'm going to have to do the same now that I'm stepping into my role.”
I appreciate his answer more than I would like to admit. He’s a hard worker and wants to earn what he gets in life. That’s admirable. Yet, the way he says “stepping into my role” sounds more like he’s being forced into it.
“You don't seem too happy about that, to be stepping into that role.”
He shakes his head. “No. It’s not that. It’s just…I've been working toward this for so long that it's hard to wrap my head around the fact that it's finally here.” He stares out the window again. “What about you? Are you going into the family business?”
I shake my head, clenching my jaw against the desire to rant about the family obligations and expectations that made me flee them and brought me to him tonight. “I'm not allowed to.”
His head whips toward mine, blue eyes wide. “Allowed to?”
“I told you it's complicated.”
He takes my hand in his and pulls it to his lips. “We're going to uncomplicate things, at least for a while.” He presses light kisses across the back of my smooth skin, sending butterflies flying in my stomach, then leans in and brushes his lips against my ear again. “Let's forget all this bullshit tonight.”
I turn my head toward his slightly, our lips only a millimeter away from each other. “That sounds good to me.”
More than good.
Fucking fantastic.
I wait for him to press his lips to mine, for what I’ve been longing for him to do, what I know we both have craved the entire time we were inside that bar. But he doesn't give me what I want. He retreats with a knowing smirk and settles back in his seat as we finally pull up outside the Palmer House.
Nolan slips from the car and waits to help me do the same. I place my palm in his extended hand, and he squeezes with a firm grip, pulling me up and into his arms.
The warm strength surrounding me makes me sag against him, and he grins at me.
“You ready, Jack?”
“More than ready…”
ISAAC
The wind whips off Lake Michigan, funneling down Monroe Street, swirling Jack's vibrant red hair around her face like a blazing halo.
Only she’s no angel.
Far from it.
