“I’m fine.” I open my eyes and gaze up into his beautiful face. My hand glides up his tattooed arm, over his shoulder, and I run my fingertips down his stubbled cheek. “More than fine,” I add.
“You didn’t tell me to stop,” he murmurs.
“I might have killed you if you stopped.”
“I didn’t hurt you?” he asks, his gray eyes worried and searching mine.
“Stop worrying about hurting me, ace. I’m not made of glass. You didn’t hurt me.” I kiss him gently, then bite his lower lip and lave it with the flat of my tongue. “I think I have a new taste for being tied up.” I smile up at him shyly and he laughs.
“I think I have a new taste for tying you up,” he responds with a delighted grin.
“What are we doing this weekend?” I ask with a yawn.
“It’s a surprise.”
“Can I have a hint?” Damn, he wore me the hell out. I can’t keep my eyes open.
“We’re not staying here,” he responds and snuggles me more firmly against him.
“Where are we going?” I whisper.
“You’ll find out tomorrow. Go to sleep, sweetheart.” He kisses my forehead and I fall into a restful sleep.
***
“You don’t need to bring all of this crap.” Nate and I are standing in his bedroom with my suitcase open on the bed.
“Are you going to tell me where we’re going?” I ask, hands on my hips.
“No.”
“Then I need all this crap.” I glare at him, secretly delighted with him, and enjoy the view. He’s pulled his hair back, is wearing a white t-shirt under a black sweater and dark blue jeans. His arms are crossed over his chest, making his biceps flex.
Yum.
“Julianne, I want to take the bike.”
“Okay, tell me where we’re going and I’ll downsize my stuff.”
“I’m not telling you where we’re going.”
“Then how do I know what I need? Let’s take the car. It’s called compromise, ace.”
He sighs, rubs his face with his hands in exasperation, and glares at me when he sees my smile.
“Why are you grinning?”
“Because you’re hot when you’re frustrated with me.”
Nate chuckles and shakes his head. “Fine, bring all your shit. We’ll take the Mercedes.”
“See? That wasn’t so hard.” I tap his cheek playfully as I walk past him to the bathroom to gather my toiletries.
“Wait, you have more shit to pack?”
“Yep,” I call over my shoulder.
“Jesus,” he mutters and I laugh.
“Okay,” I shove everything in my suitcase and zip it up. “I’m ready.”
Nate picks up his overnight bag, which is much smaller and weighs far less than my bag, grabs the handle of my rolling suitcase with his other hand, and ushers me out of the room.
“Let’s go.”
Chapter Twenty One
Nate pulls his shiny black Mercedes SUV into the parking lot of his father’s gym and throws it in park.
“What are we doing here?” I ask.
“I have to run in for a second to talk to my dad. Wait here?”
“Okay.”
He leans over and swiftly kisses me, then hops out of the car, leaving the engine running. I watch his fine form stride through the front door of the building and sit back to wait.
Where is he taking me?
Clearly we’re not going far because we’re driving and we both have to work Monday morning. Maybe he’s taking me to Portland for the weekend? That’s only a three hour drive. Or maybe up to the little resort town of Leavenworth? Or the San Juan Islands?
There’s so much to do here, it could be anywhere.
I check my phone and send Natalie a text, letting her know we’re going somewhere out of town in case she tries to reach me and I don’t have cell service.
Just as I finish with the text, Nate climbs back in the car.
“Okay, ready?”
“Sure. Everything okay?” I ask.
“Yep, just needed to check in with Dad for a minute.” He smiles over at me as he pulls out of the lot and toward the freeway.
“Okay, so are you going to tell me where we’re going?” I pull his hand into my lap and lace our fingers.
“The beach.”
“Really?” I feel the face-splitting grin on my face. “I love the beach!”
“Good.” He kisses my hand and lays them both in my lap again. “I have a beach house in a newer little town called Seabrook. It’s about a half hour north of Ocean Shores.”
“You own the house?” I ask.
“Yeah, my dad and I do. He uses it too.”
“I like your dad.” I really do. Rich has been nothing but sweet to me since the first time Nate took me to their gym.
“He likes you too.”
“Can I ask you a question?” I bite my lower lip, nervous to ask, and he glances over at me, then back at the freeway. Traffic is pretty light this morning on Interstate 5 South.
“Of course, anything.”
“Where is your mom?”
Nate signals and changes lanes. “She died when I was seven.”
“I’m sorry,” I murmur.
“Don’t be.” He squeezes my hand and smiles reassuringly. “It was a long time ago. She had breast cancer. It’s been just dad and me ever since.”
“He never remarried?”
“No,” he shakes his head and frowns. “I know there have been women, but he never paraded them around me. I thought he might remarry after I was grown and gone, but he seems content with the gym and dating here and there.”
“What was her name?” I ask quietly.
“Julie,” Nate responds softly and I gasp. “My dad called her Jules.” He looks over at me, his eyes bright.
“Is that why you don’t call me Jules?” I ask.
“Partly,” he shrugs and changes lanes again. “I don’t have a weird fixation on your name or anything, baby. I’ve slipped up and called you Jules a few times.”
“I know, it makes me smile, but I like that you call me Julianne.”
“You do? I thought you hated it.”