I gave some thought to what Ava thought I might like. That could be interesting.
Giving Elle a glance, I stepped back to the stove and switched the burner back on. “So Ava will bring your stuff here?”
She glanced back at her phone, another text coming in. “Yep. In about an hour.”
I flipped a few pieces of chicken over, checking to be sure they were done. “Perfect. As soon as this heats back up, we’re in business and can eat before she comes.” I grabbed a towel to wipe down the counter.
Elle came to join me at the stove. “That looks amazing.”
I glanced at her over my shoulder and smiled. “It is and it’s done. You ready to be dazzled?”
“Already am.”
13
Pipe Dreams
Elle
The scent of bacon could wake me from a coma. Of this I was certain. My eyes opened, and it took me a minute to get my bearings. A glance around the room served to remind me that I was waking up in Nate Roberts’s guest room.
Let’s pause on that and rewind. Nate. Roberts’s. Guest. Room.
My day yesterday was certainly one for the record books.
Nate was true to his word last night. We had a delicious dinner. Gabby hadn’t lied, the man could cook. Ava had texted that she left a bag of clothes for me on the porch. Apparently she thought she might interrupt us, so she didn’t want to ring the bell. That wasn’t embarrassing at all. Nate found that I was between books, so he’d proceeded to book talk several for me until I picked up a romance by Naima Simone. Then we’d sat in opposite corners of his couch while we read for hours.
I was ready to profess my love. I mean, was there a more perfect night out there? No. The answer was no, there wasn’t.
I glanced again in my bag at what Ava had packed. I supposed I should be grateful that she’d included actual clothes. I’d figured she’d only pack lingerie, but she hadn’t. That being said, my favorite uniform for working from home of yoga pants and a baggy T-shirt was conspicuously absent. Ava had what I thought of as my city clothes in the bag. When I’d first moved to Chicago and began working for Smithfield, my paycheck had helped my self-confidence jump up a few notches. Or more than a few. I found out that I liked purchasing clothes, looking nice. Once I got over the whole let-me-wear-baggy-shirts phase to disguise my breasts, I began to own my curves and stopped trying to hide them.
Interestingly, I hadn’t been doing that down here. Looking at the clothes in the bag, Ava was telling me not to become a complete slob or try to hide away. I grabbed a pair of slim jeans, a chambray shirt, and a soft cream sweater. Fine, Ava. Message received.
A shower later and I felt close to human. I layered on a few necklaces to go with my outfit and gave myself a cursory glance. Not bad. My stomach growled, and I followed my nose to see what Nate had whipped up, hoping he had enough for two.
Coming around the corner to the kitchen, I paused at the view of Nate’s back. He stood in front of his sink, washing some dishes. Bacon, eggs, and toast were piled on plates behind him on the island, but he stood washing a skillet as he hummed along to music that was quietly flowing from a speaker on the counter. At first I couldn’t take my gaze from him. His hair was clearly still tousled from bed, with the front standing up straight. My throat went dry as I contemplated what it would be like to roll over in the morning and see Nate Roberts on the pillow next to me. Shaking my head, my focus came back to the kitchen. My gaze dropped over the threadbare T-shirt that was taut over his shoulders but loose at his waist to what appeared to be a pair of worn jeans. Then I listened a bit closer to the music flowing from the speaker.
I cleared my throat. “Is that”—I paused—“Bruce Springsteen?”
Nate stopped singing and looked over his shoulder at me. He took in my dressier-than-normal outfit, and his gaze heated. Meeting my eyes, he nodded to the speaker. “It is. Surprised?”
“It’s just a little older… You’re a fan?”
He turned back to the sink, rinsing off the skillet and then placing it on a towel. He turned to me as he dried his hands before tossing the towel over his shoulder. “My parents love him. He’s the background music of my childhood. This album,Western Stars, is a newer favorite.”
I paused, listening. My parents were fans of his as well, but I didn’t recognize this album. I refocused when I realized that Nate was walking toward me. As he came to a stop in front of me, I glanced down at his bare feet.
I was standing in front of him, and we both had bare feet.
Why were his so sexy?
And why did this feel like a level of intimacy that would have been far from anything I could have dreamed of had you asked me yesterday morning?
I looked past him, out the window to a wonderworld of white. “It snowed.” I stated the obvious.
“Mmm-hmm.” Nate stepped forward and dropped a kiss on my forehead. Hmm, so we were picking up from yesterday, not ignoring the fact that we’d become friends who kissed hello. I was on board with that plan.
“You look sexy as hell, Robinson.”
