Those eyes, so much like Nolan’s, widened. “You are dating my son?”
Damn. “I thought you knew.” I forced myself to breathe and my heart to slow down.
“Nolan has been scarce lately on the weekends. Even Archer mentioned they hadn’t played racquetball recently.” She sat back and studied me for a few beats before she smiled. “Now it makes sense. You and Nolan. Interesting.”
What was interesting to me was he hadn’t told his parents about us. Then again, I hadn’t told my parents about him, so we were even on that front.
She said, “How long?”
“We had our first date the day after his LCCO event. But we’d been talking for a few weeks before that.”
“I’m thrilled for both of you, but it’ll be our secret, okay? I’ll wait for him to tell me. Now back to the crisis at hand. When your name came up during crafting club, Connie, Anna and Lucy said they were scared to approach you, but Margene said she’d handle it. Today.”
Scared. I snorted. “A crafting club. Why not a book club or a wine club or a—”
“Strip club,” we said simultaneously.
We both laughed.
“I’m guessing because they all like to craft. And what’s worse? They’re all doing the same craft, so they can—”
“Compare?” I supplied with dread. “Omigod, no freakin’ way.”
“There’s no possible way we can get out of this.”
I could get out of it if Wolf Sports North offered me a position. But that’d leave poor Edie alone—a non-crafter in crafter club. I couldn’t do that to her; hell, I couldn’t do that to anyone, but especially not to Nolan’s mother since I wanted her to adore me.
“What if . . . we got kicked out of the club?”
Edie’s eyes flashed surprise, then hope. “That is brilliant! How would we go about it?”
“My first thought as a hockey player would be to pick a fight.”
“Sorry. My brawling days are over.” She frowned and pulled her phone out of her purse. After reading the screen, her face held an expression of dismay.
“What’s wrong?”
Edie flipped her phone around so I could see it.
It was Connie: 40% off yarn sale at Hobby Lobby! No coupon needed!
My eyes met Edie’s. I whispered, “Are you in a crafting text message group now too?”
“Yes. Lucy gave them my number, Gabi.”
I circled her wrist. “I’m gonna get you out of this, Edie. I promise.”
“Thank you.”
The outer door dinged again and we both froze.
Margene’s distinctive whistle echoed down the hallway.
“She can’t catch me in here,” Edie said in a panic, shoving the craft bag back into her oversized purse. “She’ll know that I warned you.”
“She always goes to the break room first. Hide behind the door. When I open it, I’ll keep you hidden and her busy while you make a break for it.” I gripped her arm again. “Don’t look back. No matter what you hear, make a run for it and don’t look back.”
Edie nodded.
I was up, out of my chair and opening the door before Margene could reach us. “Hey, Margene. You’re early today.”
“Gotta get some stuff done. Where’re you going?”
“To get more coffee. That’s where you were headed, right?” I said a little louder than usual as we continued walking.
“Yep. After that, there’s something I wanna talk to you about.” She stopped and grinned at me when we were in the break room. “Something fun.”
The door chime dinged.
Margene whirled around. “Wonder who that could be?”
“No one,” I lied. “Probably just the wind. It’s been a phantom menace lately.”
Blank look.
Nolan would’ve laughed at my Star Wars pun.
Margene shrugged and I relaxed that Edie had gotten away.
I wasn’t so lucky.
LATER THAT NIGHT . . .
ME: I accidentally outed us to your mother today.
NL: Good.
ME: Nolan, you have to tell her we’re together and act surprised when she acts like she doesn’t know or karma will make us break up over something stupid.
NL: DALLAS GIVE GABRIELLA BACK HER PHONE THIS ISN’T FUNNY.
ME: Ha. Good one. I’m serious though.
NL: No prob. I’ll tell her when we go over the LCCO event numbers Friday morning. What did you and my mom talk about?
ME: It’s a secret. But I will tell you I like her.
NL: If the two of you are already swapping secrets then she likes you too.
ME:
NL: When do you get done with your hockey clinic this weekend?
ME: Saturday. Mid-afternoon.
NL: I want you to spend the weekend with me. At my house.
ME: Charming. For REAL?
NL: Yes.
ME: I’d be honored. That wasn’t me being flip.
NL: I know. Sending you the address now.
ME: Does that mean I won’t hear from you until then?
NL: I’ll text you when I can. Think of me. Miss me. Send me tit pics.
ME: NO WAY
NL:
Twenty-Three
GABI
Nolan’s place wasn’t anything like I expected.
First of all, it was an actual house, not a luxury apartment with skyscraper views.
And it was in the suburbs—St. Louis Park to be exact.
He’d instructed me to follow the driveway up and around the back of the house since there wasn’t parking on the street. The angle was so steep I wondered how he got out during the long Minnesota winters. Maybe he had one of those fancy heated driveways that kept ice from forming. Or maybe he hired a company to clear his driveway after every snowstorm. Or maybe he hired a car service to pick him up.
The fact I was contemplating the logistics of snow removal in his life indicated my nervousness at being here.
I parked off to the side of the three-car garage and looked up at the place Nolan Lund called home.
Quirky was the first word that came to mind. It wasn’t sleek and modern with glass and metal architectural details. The entire place was built out of cream-colored bricks. The main entrance had a ranch house–style vibe, huge front door and a low-slung roofline that rose half a story higher than the long garage. The left side of the house, which faced the street, had been dug into the steep hillside and appeared to be two stories—but was only half a story higher than the main entrance, giving the entire structure a staggered look.
Grabbing my bag, I exited my truck and walked to the curved brick path leading to the front. Now that I was right upon the door, I could see that it was painted a vibrant blue with shiny enamel paint. On each side of the door were wide panels of square glass bricks in a milky pale blue hue that created a beautiful, funky transition between the door and house.
Before I could ring the doorbell, the door swung open.
And there was my man. Dark hair tousled and damp from his shower. Gorgeous face cleanly shaven. Wearing a slate-gray cashmere V-necked sweater that did amazing things for his eyes, and dark jeans.
“Hey, you’re here,” he said warmly, “please come in.”
After I stood in the foyer and he closed the door, a rare bout of shyness overtook me. Nolan was sharing a part of his life that few got to see. I didn’t want to say or do the wrong thing that’d make him uncomfortable in his own home, because god knew, I tended to screw up.
So I sort of froze when I looked at him.
“What’s wrong?”
“I’m nervous.”
“Because you think I’ll pounce on you the second you walk into my house?”
“I wish you would. I can handle the ‘
I want to fuck you now’ side of you. But this? God, Nolan, it sounds stupid, but I don’t feel worthy of being here. Like you’ll realize it’s a mistake and send me packing. That scares the crap out of me.”
He took my bag and tossed it on the floor. Then he pushed me against the door and buried his face in my neck. Just breathing me in.
That’s when I realized his heart was racing too. A slight sheen of sweat dotted his forehead, leaving a dampness on my skin as he kissed my neck. He muttered, “Fucking cookies.”
My heart rate launched into quadruple time when he framed my face in his hands and kissed me, delicately, as if I was spun of glass. Sweet nibbles of his lips, a soft smooch at the corners of my smile, a glide back and forth of his parted lips across mine.
Then he stopped and stared into my eyes. “It’s sweet that you’re nervous, my Gabriella.”
Sweet?
“But you’re not nervous about being invited into my home. Your nerves are because you understand after you’ve been in this space I only share with the special people in my life that you’re special. And, Happy, this isn’t a mistake, because I’m done making mistakes with you.”
This man . . . when he went in, he went all in. I couldn’t believe my luck that he wanted to go all in with me.
I pressed my mouth to his. “So do something to calm my nerves.”
His answering growl sent my blood racing.
Gentle kisses vanished as he ate at my mouth. Forcing my lips open wider to take his ravenous kiss. His hands followed the contours of my body. Sliding his fingers around my hips, tucking his fingertips inside the waistband of my leggings and yanking the stretchy fabric down to the tops of my UGGs.
After he dropped to his knees, he only bothered to remove one of my boots, shoving my leggings to the side. Those rough palms were sliding up the outside of my bare legs as he left sucking kisses on the inside of my thigh.
My head fell back against the door at the first touch of his mouth to my core.
He was so so so good at this. And he loved winding me up to see how high he could make me fly.
When he started to use his tongue, I wondered if his door was electrified—my entire body buzzed like a live wire. My nerves jumped. My blood fizzed. My legs quaked.
He took me apart with precision and speed that left me gasping.
Then he did it again, just to prove he could.
Cocky man.
Nolan petted and nuzzled me as I regained my bearings.
“How are those nerves now?” he asked.
The smugness in his smile and his eyes; I just ate that up.
However, he’d awakened my competitive side. “Now that you took the edge off, let’s get started.” Balancing on my left foot, I kicked off the other boot and shed my leggings. “Which way to your bedroom?”
“We don’t have to . . .” His voice trailed off as I pulled my sweatshirt over my head and unhooked my sports bra, whipping it on top of my clothes.
“Oh, but yes we do.” I offered him my best attempt at sultry as I slowly ran my hands down my naked curves. “You really gonna turn this down?”
“Fuck. No.” Without taking his hungry gaze off my body, he pointed to the left. “My room is that way. Last door on the right.”
“Lead the way, Lund.”
“I’ll follow you and enjoy the view.”
Maybe I did a little more high-stepping, ass wiggling as I sashayed down the hall. I’d never had a man appreciate my body the way Nolan did.
We entered a cool, dark space. No natural or artificial light, just an odd arc of pale sunlight from the hallway that bounced off the door and across the carpet. I stopped so abruptly that Nolan ran into me inside the doorway.
“Sorry. Lemme turn on a light.”
Turning, I flattened my palm on his chest to keep him in place. “No. I like it dark.” I inched my fingers under his soft sweater, loving his sharp inhale when I touched his nipples. I kissed the hollow beneath his Adam’s apple and whispered, “Off. All of it.”
After Nolan ditched his sweater, he teased me with flirty kisses as he shucked his jeans. I could taste myself on him and I swayed closer to feel the heat of his bare skin on mine.
His restraint vanished. He fastened his mouth to my neck, biting, licking, kissing, building a frenzy in both of us.
It was glorious being on the receiving end of that passion.
In a move worthy of an MMA champion, he took us to the floor.
As soon as all that hard, heated muscle covered me, I wrapped my legs around his hips.
My back arched off the floor when he drove into me.
There were no words between us. Just sweat and heat and friction in the dark.
And passion. God. The passion this man showed was staggering.
The blood racing through my body sizzled like I was burning up from the inside out. I couldn’t get close enough to him. I couldn’t touch him enough. Every breath I took was saturated with his scent. Wherever I kissed his skin I tasted salt and musk and Nolan. I rubbed my face against his flesh, bathing in him.
His mouth was on my jaw, then my neck, then my breasts, and he kept a steady rhythm that seemed in perfect sync to the pounding of my heart and the rapid breaths whooshing from my lungs.
I never wanted this to end but at the same time I knew I couldn’t spend another minute this close to the edge.
He slowed down just enough so he could push my legs to the floor, spreading me open, so each grinding thrust was exactly where I needed it.
My body responded immediately.
Tingling pulses rippled from my core outward and I let the pleasure wash over me, not chasing it, but feeling that connection with Nolan strengthen as he gave it to me.
When he buried his face in my neck as he found his own release, his deep groan vibrating against my skin sent chills racing through me again.
Spent, breathing hard, still joined together, I reached up and twined my arms around his neck, keeping him in place in case he got the idea to get up because he thought he was squishing me.
When he lifted his head, I trapped that beautiful face in my hands. “Nolan. That . . .” I saw such satisfaction in his eyes, and I wanted to be the only one who put it there. Forever. “That was everything.”
A smile curled his lips, which he lowered to mine.
Neither of us wanted to be the first to break the bubble we’d created. We didn’t speak, we just existed in this new intimacy.
Nolan kissed my temple. “You’re shivering.”
“So are you.”
“Let’s go sit by the fireplace.”
“You have a fireplace?”
He pushed to his feet. “I’ll give you the tour. But please get dressed or else we’ll never make it out of the hallway.”
“Same goes. But you’ll have to bring me my clothes since I stripped in your foyer.”
“Which makes you the best houseguest I’ve ever had.” He handed me his robe to wear.
I decided my clothes could stay on the floor after I’d wrapped my naked self in the fluffy comfort of his robe that smelled like him.
In the main body of the house, a freestanding wall provided a focal point across from the entryway. Walking to the left led into the living room, and to the right into the kitchen, but the space behind it was open from one end to the other. The shiny gray lacquered kitchen cabinets complemented the white countertops, swirled with gray and black and dotted with tiny bits of silver. Here and there were items the same glossy blue as his front door.
Wood flooring—a pale ash gray—stretched throughout these two rooms. Again, his living area wasn’t the leather-furniture, chrome-and-glass bachelor pad I’d seen in every other single guy’s house. His living room looked cozy and inviting with wide-wale corduroy couches in navy blue. Two bookshelves crammed with books rose to the ce
iling on either side of the mosaic-tiled fireplace. A large ivory-colored wool rug covered the floor and he’d placed a funky antique coffee table in the center of it all. What surprised me was that all the windows had been changed to the same milky pale blue glass bricks like by the front door.
Nolan saw me studying them and shrugged. “There’s no view, so I just switched them out for something that gives light and interest.”
“It’s really cool, Nolan. Your home feels lived in, not like a decorator’s experiment.”
He seemed pleased. “Jensen’s apartment was like that and he hated it. Right after he sold it, he bought Snow Village.”
I ran my hand across the sofa table made of iron with an inset mosaic tile in various shimmering hues of metallic blue. “I figured you’d have one of those fancy high-rise luxury apartments.”
“I did for a while. It felt like I was living in a hotel. Since I’ve got a great view of the Cities from the Lund building, I decided I didn’t need that at home. This house is an oddity. It’s not big enough to be a family house and there’s no yard, which is unusual given it’s in the suburbs. Plus the spiral staircase that goes to the lower level is problematic for most people.”
“You have a spiral staircase?”
He grinned. “It’s cool. Come take a look.”
The staircase wasn’t a basic metal one, but wood with wide steps and a curved bannister with twisted metal. The thing was a work of art. “Omigod, I love it!”
“It’s one of the things that sold me on the house. Downstairs has the media room, the second bedroom and guest bathroom.”
“This house only has two bedrooms?”
“It had three, but I converted the one upstairs next to the master into my closet.”
“I love that you personalized this house so it works for you now, not the you in a few years when you might be married and want something bigger with different amenities.”
When he didn’t answer right away, I thought maybe I’d said the wrong thing.
But he pulled me into his arms and hugged me tightly. “Thank you for saying that. I don’t think my family gets it, except maybe for Jensen. A big space when you live alone just feels ten times emptier.”