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Afraid of showing more leg than a trapeze artist, she allowed him to guide her behind him on the seat. This position felt far more intimate than earlier. There were all sorts of firsts for them tonight. He pushed a helmet into her hands, and twisting around, his eyes went to her dress slipping up her knees. Before she could do anything, he reached around to tuck the silky material under her legs. Her cheeks went from warm to hot as his every touch sent tingling shots of awareness prickling over her skin.
“Hold onto me tight,” he said.
Feeling like she was breaking her every rule of self-preservation, she wrapped her arms around Nash. There was no going back from this. Her heart was rejoicing at taking the lead for once, as she melted into him like he somehow belonged to her. His back was muscular, slightly sweaty after the commotion inside. She was touching him like she’d only touch a man she was dating, not a man that she’d tried to firmly stuff into the friend zone. The problem was that now her every sense didn’t seem to know the difference.
She liked being near him too much for this to be a good idea. The questions thrown at them from the paparazzi turned into a roar, when even these camera-wielding demons failed to see why Nash and Emily couldn’t be together. She rested her chin against Nash’s hard back, trying to hide her face, but the clicks of the cameras wouldn’t stop.
Her most embarrassing moment had just been caught for all the world to see.
“Cool,” she muttered into Nash’s ear, thoroughly feeling the irony of this moment. Only he would enjoy the humor of the situation. What would her new nickname be? Little Miss Evel Knievel?
The engine of Nash’s motorcycle growled to life. The heels of his boots slammed up against the kickstand as he wove past the swarms of paparazzi and through the standstill traffic. He easily slipped out onto the street. Only a bike like his could execute such a perfect escape.
She let out a breath of relief. The further he took her from Lacy Lynch’s mansion, the more she felt her stress from the night evaporate from her tight shoulders. They drove through the forested area. Through the trees, Old Hickory Lake sparkled under the moon. Emily hadn’t realized how trapped she’d felt until she’d been set free. Nash slowed at a stop sign and swung around to study her face. “Where to?” he shouted over the noise of his bike.
She leaned forward to get to his ear again. Her lips brushed past the rough strands of his hair. “Green Hills!”
He met her eyes with his impossibly blue ones. “Figures!”
Why was that? Maybe because it was one of the most posh places in Nashville? Or was it too far? The drive to her brother’s place would take about thirty minutes from Hendersonville. Nash turned from her and headed down the lane of hidden mansions nestled against the lake. Their speed picked up. Her hands tightened over him. She felt his stomach suck in with his breath as they drove out of town to get onto a highway surrounded by green pastures.
The drive home was beautiful. The highway was virtually deserted besides a few bright headlights speeding past in the other direction. She sank into the wind, feeling it caress her hair, though there were some unfortunate gusts that went past her knees and played with her skirt. The only thing keeping her from dying a thousand deaths was that Nash couldn’t see her legs in the darkness. Good thing, because she was in for some teasing as it was.
The summer night felt perfect with a bright moon settling above them. Here and there fireworks shot off in the distance. It was a little over a week until the Fourth of July, and Tennessee was going all out for the holiday.
Mostly, she enjoyed the view of Nash’s powerful shoulders and back. She groaned; was there any going back from this? He smelled faintly of fire. She must too. Emily could scarcely believe that he’d pulled her out of that fire, but she could feel under her own hands that he had the strength for it. His muscular arms pulled at his white dress shirt. For the whole drive home, she got lost in the memories of what those arms had felt like around her.
Once they reached Green Hills, she pointed out directions until they drove into the gated community in Northumberland, past the homes of country star greats like Max Pistol and Roy Wilds.
Emily was in constant awe at the immensity of these homes, their manicured gardens and scores of vehicles. Emily never could’ve imagined staying here while growing up. Her parents were peanut farmers from South Carolina. Before their deaths, they’d lectured River on spending his money so frivolously, but besides the luxury of complete privacy, the security the house provided was necessary. River was famous enough to attract his share of stalkers.
That was the dark side of fame that Emily wasn’t so sure about. She enjoyed the small town life, though so far, River had gotten away with living a pretty quiet life in Harvest Ranch. Everyone there seemed to see him for who he really was. Would they do the same for her? It suddenly felt very important that they did.
She sighed against Nash’s back, noticing that her dress flapped around them both. Now that they were under the well-lit streets, she tried her best to hold down the worst of it, but she had a feeling that he’d seen much more of her leg than was decent. Strangely, he hadn’t reached around to pinch her knee with his mischievous laugh… yet.
She’d put nothing past him at this point, but perhaps even he too felt the seriousness of what had happened earlier.
Her brother’s place finally appeared over the hill. Nash took them down the private lane leading to a whopping 15,000 square feet of mansion. The exterior was made of pillars and a multi-hued stone. The gardens surrounding River’s place were almost more magnificent than the house, with a creek running through it.
And yet… the Slades’ home in Harvest Ranch was even more immense. Country homes making up the heart of the ranch generally were. And Nash’s place included over a thousand acres of land.
Was he homesick yet?
He drove up to the majestic cement steps that led to the patio in front of her brother’s place and killed the engine. Her ears still rang from the bike’s loud growl as he turned to her. His eyes on her felt different than before, like she was somehow more precious, more dear than just the girl next door. It was definitely not that teasing older brother vibe that she always got from him.
“We’re neighbors,” he said.
Her fingers tightened over him. She’d forgotten that she was still clinging to him. She should let him go. She should… “How close do you live from here?” she asked.
He broke into a grin, which felt more intimate than usual, maybe because she could feel his breath on her lips. “We’re about three houses away,” he said, “but… I’d say we’re closer than that.”
“Oh.” Her voice came out in a whisper. Was he teasing or flirting? What was this spell that he’d woven over her? Instead of sliding away from him, so that she could tuck herself into bed after an exhausting night, she leaned into him. “Would you say we’re closer than before?” she asked.
The kickstand went down. Nash took her by the waist and helped guide her off the back of the bike. She tugged down the skirt of her dress as she slid off. “Yeah, I’d say we are,” he said.
He reeled her closer and before she knew it, she was sitting on his lap so that they faced each other. Her heart flipped right over itself. She’d never felt this kind of desire for anyone else before, and she gulped when she saw that same emotion mirrored in his gaze, too. His arms tightened around her.
“Hey.” He sounded more sober than usual. “I need to apologize for tonight, but first, can I tell you how beautiful your eyes are?”
