Page 37
That was enough to wipe the smile from his face. “You can’t leave me ... we’re a team.”
At the end of my shift, Jason pulled me aside and kissed me. It came out of nowhere, and within days he’d asked me to move in with him. At the time, I thought I meant something to him.
Sitting here now, replaying that night over in my head, I can’t help but wonder if it was his way of making sure I stayed exactly where he needed me. Was I ever more than the woman holding his dream together?
“You okay, darlin’?” Nolan asks when we pull into the driveway of his parents’ house.
“Yeah.”
“You sure? You’re not having regrets about the kiss, are you?”
“No,” I answer truthfully, because I’m not.
“Good,” he says, leaning across the centre console. “Because I really want to kiss you again.”
The corners of my mouth tip up as he slides a hand into my hair and tugs me closer, and the second his lips are on mine, I’m lost in this man all over again.
This kiss escalates quickly, somehow even hotter than the last, if that’s even possible. One minute I’m in my seat, the next I’m straddling his lap, completely lost in him.
“Fuck, Dais,” he groans into my mouth as his hands slip under my top. “I need to grope your stripper tits. I’ve missed them.”
I draw back and arch a brow, shocked by his words. “Stripper tits? Don’t you mean my baby feeding equipment?”
Nolan barks out a laugh. “When you’re feeding Jonah, I refer to them as that, but right now, he’s not here, and they’re driving me crazy. You have spectacular tits, hence the nickname.”
“You and your nicknames.”
I’m wearing breast pads in my bra, so my milk doesn’t leak through my top, and the fact that he’s touching me while I’m wearing them is mortifying. I shuffle back on his lap, trying to create a little distance, because I’m pretty sure the second he realises, it’s going to kill the mood. Except my attempt at subtlety fails when my elbow hits the horn. I freeze as the sound echoes through the quiet night. It’s after 10 pm, and most of the neighbours are probably asleep. “Oh my God,” I whisper mortified.
Nolan goes completely still for a second before he bursts out laughing. I feel my cheeks heat as I bury my face in the crook of his neck.
“Ah, fuck,” he murmurs.
“What?” I ask, my stomach dropping.
“Mum’s front light just came on. Oh no, she just stepped onto the porch.”
“You’re lying.”
“I’m not. Look for yourself,” he says, pointing towards the windscreen.
Panic floods me when I glance over my shoulder. She’s definitely heading our way—storming might be a better word—in her dressing gown. “Shit, we’re in trouble, aren’t we?”
“Yeah, Dais, I think we are.”
I try to scramble off his lap and back into my seat before she reaches the car, but in my haste, I misjudge my movements and my backside hits the steering wheel, sounding the horn again.
By the time I slide back into the passenger seat, Mrs Sinclair is standing beside the driver’s window, rapping her knuckles against the glass.
Nolan clears his throat and tries to school his features as he lowers the window. His mother stares at him for a beat, completely unimpressed. “You pressed your horn instead of coming to the door?”
“I’m sorry, Mum,” he says, sounding like a child who’s been caught doing something he shouldn’t.
She folds her arms across her chest. “Nolan James Sinclair, I taught you better than that. Since when is sitting in someone’s driveway and announcing your arrival by blasting the horn considered good manners?”
“I didn’t—”
“Don’t interrupt me,” she says, pointing her finger at him. “I raised you to knock on a door, use your words, and show people some respect. It’s the middle of the night!”
