AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Eden nodded. “I’ll concede that point, but I also have a story. Remember how you said that if I could prove that the mayor was talking dirty to escorts, that would be a good story?”
Stella lifted an eyebrow. “You have proof that the mayor is talking dirty to escorts?”
“No. But I have proof that someone even more newsworthy than the mayor is.”
“Who?”
Eden hesitated. “I don’t want to give you his name until I have all the proof I need,” she said. “But I can tell you that this story could double—no, triple—circulation.”
It felt like it took an hour for Stella to finally reply. “Two weeks.” She held up her index and middle fingers. “You have two weeks to bring me the story. If I don’t like it, you’re out. I mean completely out. No moving to the women’s bathroom or the lobby. You’ll pack up your things and move on.”
“I give you my word,” Eden said.
Stella shook her head. “Why do I doubt that?”
After Stella left, Eden wanted to go back to her research on Nash. Unfortunately, if she wanted to get in a run before she met Mike for dinner, she needed to leave work right away.
She changed into her running clothes in the bathroom, but kept the scarf tied around her neck. The bruises were fading, but still visible. It was only three miles to her apartment, and three miles wasn’t anything compared to the 26.3 miles she’d have to run in the marathon. Or it wouldn’t have been anything if she had lived in a city that wasn’t built on a bunch of steep hills that felt like Mount Everest when you were running up them. But she hung tough and refused to stop running until she reached her apartment. She would’ve done a Rocky victory bounce if she hadn’t felt like throwing up and had major leg cramps. It took everything she had just to climb the stairs.
Once inside her apartment, Eden tossed her backpack on the coffee table and bent at the waist. That seemed to help her nausea, but not her cramping calves. So she placed her hands on the floor and tried one of her mother’s yoga poses. She was struggling to form a perfect inverted V with her feet and hands pressed to the floor when there was a tap on the door, followed quickly by the squeak of hinges.
Eden peeked between her spread legs and almost toppled over on her sweat-drenched head. Nash Beaumont stood in the doorway wearing a gray suit similar to the one he’d worn when they had dinner with her grandparents. A white shirt filled the space between the jacket lapels and was open at the throat. A throat he cleared before he spoke.
“It opened when I knocked.” His gaze seemed to be pinned to her butt, which sent heat to her face and the spot between her legs. Bending her knees, she tried to come out of the pose gracefully, but instead stumbled and would’ve fallen onto the coffee table if he hadn’t reached out and steadied her.
She stared at him. “You’re here.” It was a stupid thing to say. Of course he was there. He seemed to fill every square inch of her studio apartment.
He glanced around, and she realized how dismal her apartment must look. The carpeting was stained. The walls needed paint. And the kitchen faucet was dripping in a rhythmic plop of water. Although he didn’t seem to be as interested in those things as he was with the mussed covers of her double bed.
“I’m sorry about the mess.” She hurried over and straightened the blankets, then grabbed a pillow off the floor and stacked it with the others against the headboard. When she turned, he was staring at her butt again. She blushed. “So I guess my grandparents told you where I lived.”
It was funny how fate worked. She had wanted another chance to talk to Nash and here it was. Now all she had to do was figure out how to keep him there long enough to get the answers she needed.
“Could I get you something to drink?” she asked.
He paused for a brief second, and then nodded. “Water is fine.” He slipped out of his jacket and hung it over the back of a barstool, then proceeded to cuff his sleeves.
She froze with the refrigerator door open at the sight of his long fingers manipulating the crisp cotton until he revealed a muscled forearm with its sprinkling of dark hair. Suddenly, his fingers stopped moving, and she looked up to find him watching her with hooded eyes that made warm, moist heat pool deep inside her. And not even the cool air from the opened refrigerator helped.
“Did you want something?” he said in the dark, seductive voice that made her knees weak.
At one point, she thought she wanted answers. But now she realized that she wanted much more from Nash Beaumont. Her body said she wanted another orgasm. But the odd feeling in her chest said something else entirely. For the first time, Eden was scared of Nash Beaumont.
And not just scared, but terrified.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Coming here had been a mistake, and Nash didn’t realize how much of a mistake until he’d looked into her eyes. In the late sunlight that streamed through the window, they appeared to be the color of sweet tea—deep amber with hints of brown and gold. But unlike sweet tea, they weren’t cold. They held a heat that made Nash want to jump over the breakfast bar, rip off her sexy workout clothes, and take her right there on the kitchen floor. He might’ve done just that if her phone hadn’t rung.
She blinked away the heat, then leaned over the counter and grabbed it. Her eyes widened when she saw who was calling, and she quickly turned her back on Nash and answered.
“Oh my God, Mike, I’m so sorry.”
Mike? Who the hell is Mike?Nash felt every muscle in his body tense as she continued to talk.
“I completely spaced out.” The hand that didn’t hold the phone started gesturing. “Stella stopped by, then I went for a run, and then when I got home a…” She glanced at Nash. “… friend stopped by to say ‘hi.’” She paused. “No, don’t wait any longer. I still need to shower, and by the time I get there, it will be too late. But I promise I’ll make it up to you.” Nash’s hands tightened into fists as she laughed. “Yes, I’m sure you know how to make me pay. Okay, I’ll see you tomorrow.” She hung up and turned, a bright smile on her face. “Sorry about that. Let me get you that water.” She set the phone down on the counter and walked to the refrigerator.
Nash should’ve let it go, but he couldn’t seem to do that. He waited for her to pull out two bottles of water before he asked. “So who’s Mike?”
