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Chapter Eleven
Nash was blown away.
Emily’s lips had been so soft, her hair, her skin, her touch—they were all as he’d imagined. Her kisses had him up all night replaying every moment of the feel of her lips against his. It had been three long days since he’d seen her, and he still couldn’t forget those flashing hazel eyes that turned warm on him… then blazing hot.
She was not immune to him, no matter how much she acted like it. Nash would get her to admit from her own mouth how much she liked him. Tonight!
He hurried down the hall, buttoning up his black shirt. Lizardman came at him from the side like a raptor, throwing his paws against the knees of his jeans. He let out a shout of surprise. The puppy had a ball in his mouth. He rubbed the small guy’s head. “Not tonight, buddy. Some things a man has to do alone.”
At Lizardman’s sad whine, Nash played the sucker and worked the ball out of the puppy’s jaws. He threw it down the hall, past West’s room.
His brother made an irritated noise when his dog dashed headlong into a decorative vase with an array of long grass that they’d typically find on their ranch. “Where are you going?” West called out from his room.
Nash rushed past his brother’s open door, seeing that West was working on his tie again. “Out.”
West swiveled, his eyes narrowing on Nash, like he’d make him break his plans. Night was their busiest time to make Trout his connections at these endless parties. Unexpectedly, West shrugged. “Tell Emily she owes her career to me.”
“Not going to happen,” Nash sang back. Things were going too well to remind her about his brother’s existence. Too well! If he was the kind of guy to get nervous about everything coming crashing down when things reached their peak, he’d be a nervous wreck… fortunately, he wasn’t that kind of guy.
He ducked past Lizardman to get to his motorcycle in the garage. Could anyone blame him for not giving Emily any excuse to keep her distance from him? His Triumph Bonneville was perfect for snuggling.
Yeah, he had his plans. His needs were simple—just get Emily to realize that she couldn’t live without him.
Smirking at Eva’s advice, he raced his motorcycle down the street to her brother’s house. Emily had knocked “The Star Spangled Banner” out of the ballpark the other night. Her voice was strong and passionate, though there were a few hints of self-consciousness. Nash couldn’t figure out why she was so crippled with her stage fright, but he was on a mission to conquer it.
She had the talent. All she needed was the confidence. He’d take care of that tonight, along with anything else that she needed. And heaven help them all, he was going to get another kiss out of her if it was the last thing that he did.
Who needed sleep anyway?
Laughing under his breath, he took the familiar circular driveway where he’d dropped her after Lacy Lynch’s party. Before he could get off his bike, Emily was pushing out the door under the bright porchlight, looking gorgeous in a black top embellished in gold chains like a medieval princess. Had she even worn a corset as part of her outfit? It blew that catwoman outfit out of the water. Her blue jeans showed off her curves, making him more than happy to live in their present era.
Mia must’ve had the dressing of her for the night, since Emily definitely looked like a star. Were they expecting any paparazzi to find them? That would make things… difficult.
She had a jacket tucked under her arm, and her brown leather boots would make even his oldest brother, Hudson, satisfied that they were farm worthy… and also utterly appealing. He couldn’t keep his eyes off of her as she thrust her arms into her jacket. She was definitely prepared for riding tonight. No catching glimpses of those tantalizing legs in that dress.
“What are you waiting for, hot stuff?” he asked. He dug around the back of his bike for a helmet. “Get your beautiful self on my motorcycle where you belong. We’re going to have some fun.” It was about time that he really enjoyed this city.
Squeezing his shoulder for balance, she placed her foot on the passenger peg and climbed on behind him.
“My brother called me last night,” she said.
He tensed. River would see right through his pretenses of “helping her out.” “Yeah?” he asked.
“Yeah, and River said… uh… well, he said he’s going to kill you.”
He grinned. Liv was eight months pregnant and needed all the help that she could get. Good thing, because that meant that Nash was safe for at least a month before the baby came. He pushed a helmet onto Emily’s thick brown hair. She’d plaited it into a side braid, adding to that historical look. “Tell him we’re going to have a lot of fun before he can reach you again.”
Her hands joined his as she helped him with the buckle on the helmet. “I will not—he’d take the first flight over here.”
He reached down to squeeze her knee. “Well, we’d better get busy.”
She laughed, though her eyes took on that worried expression that they always did when she started to take him at his word. “About those rules,” she began.
He groaned. Someone had too much time to think before they went out again, either that or her brother must’ve gotten to her. “Great, can’t wait to hear them.” He was a liar. Nash threw a boot into his kickstand, flipping it up as he gripped the handlebars. “Hold on tight.”
That was his favorite part.
She wrapped her arms around his stomach, plastering herself against his back. Yeah, her brother had every right to string him up, he was enjoying this too much.
