He pointed down the hall and told me I’d find the restroom at the end. And the bedrooms too, I assumed.
“Let me grab our drinks real quick. Then I’ll show you where I keep the good stuff,” Nolan said, winking at me.
After he popped the cap off an imported beer and handed it to Greyson, he filled a crystal tumbler with ice, adding a measure of whiskey and just a splash of water.
Noticing my gaze, he held up the finished product and remarked, “I’m a man of very singular tastes.”
“Except when it comes to women,” I said. Shit. Did my filter just disappear?
Greyson chuckled, sipping his beer.
“Can I make you something?” Nolan ignored my remark with barely a smirk on his full lips. “A margarita?” he asked, remembering my drink choice from last weekend.
He had a fully stocked bar with expensive liquor and cut crystal glasses for each type of drink. Martinis, red and white wines, highballs. Long-stemmed champagne glasses, which I guessed he rarely used.
“No, actually, I think a beer sounds good.”
“Sure.” He offered me a glass, but I opted to drink straight from the bottle, like Greyson was doing.
“So, Lacey, how did you end up hanging out with this dickhead?” Greyson grinned at me as he led the way back to the living room.
I chuckled and took the spot on the sofa next to Sutton. He grunted and looked up at me, then plopped his head down into my lap. Stroking Sutton’s fuzzy head, I thought about how to answer. The truth certainly wouldn’t do.
“We met at West’s a couple weeks ago,” was all I offered.
He grunted and turned his eyes to Nolan’s. Again, a silent message passed between them.
They’re obviously thinking about the same thing . . . but what?
As we sat and made small talk, I gathered that Greyson was just as damaged as Nolan, just as adept at hiding his true self. He stiffened whenever Nolan asked him about his personal life, answering only questions about their shared work or the game, before Nolan gave up entirely and focused on his drink. But Greyson was a riddle for another woman to solve.
Eventually the room fell silent as the game absorbed us, and I breathed a little sigh of relief. I drained half my beer and patted Sutton’s head as it rested near my thigh.
“You know,” Greyson remarked suddenly, “a woman who can make brisket this good . . . I think she’s a keeper.” He helped himself to another bite from the plate on his lap.
Nolan’s eyes locked on mine again. A zing of heat ran through me. It was infuriating having no idea what he was possibly thinking. He’d invited me into his space, but so far he’d been quiet and impossible to read.
I couldn’t help but wonder about his relationship with Daniella. Did he treat her like a girlfriend? I knew they had a complex relationship. But I couldn’t help holding out hope that if he met someone he really connected with, then maybe . . .
No. I couldn’t let myself go there.
Even without her here, I felt her presence. The fresh-cut flowers on the dining table. The pumpkin-spice-scented hand soap at the kitchen sink. I doubted those were his touches. It felt weird being in her territory. The romance novel sitting on the kitchen island felt planted. I wondered if she’d purposefully left it there. Wanted me to see it. Wanted me to feel strange, filled with this tingly awareness that I was in her space.
“Can I steal you away?” he asked.
My heart pumped faster. “Sure,” I said, rising from the couch to follow him toward the dining room as Greyson continued watching the game.
Nolan pulled open the sliding door that led to the patio out back, and I stepped through. Thankfully the blistering heat of the summer had faded into a pleasantly warm fall. The sun was just beginning its descent, leaving the sky to decide if mellow oranges or pretty pinks were to dominate that evening’s view. Either way, the atmosphere seemed to glow with possibility.
“Is everything okay?” Nolan asked, joining me beside the wrought-iron railing. “You’ve been quiet today.”
He had too, but I didn’t point that out. “It’s fine. I’m just a little out of my element.”
And a thousand miles outside my comfort zone. Not only because of getting involved with Nolan, but living in a new state, away from all my family and friends. It was bound to throw a girl off a little. But it felt nice to have company, and something about his presence made me feel safe.
He placed a reassuring hand against my lower back. “I’m glad you came today,” he said, his voice low.
I swallowed down a wave of nerves. “Me too.” I meant every word of that, surprisingly.
I shifted my weight, looking out over his backyard. Neat lines from the lawnmower and a row of well-groomed hedges at the very back. If only my life were that tidy . . .
“So, how does all this work? Do you mind if I pry a little?” My cheeks heated slightly, knowing all the questions spinning in my mind. It was one thing to hear about it over drinks the other night; it was quite another to see it with my own eyes.
“Pry away.” He chuckled softly, his hand slowly stroking up and down my spine.
Awareness zinged through me. It had been a long time since I’d felt a man’s touch. Six months, to be exact.
Taking a deep breath in an effort to embolden myself, I released it slowly. “Do you bring other women home to your bed often? And how does . . . she feel about that?” I didn’t want to say her name, but Nolan didn’t hesitate.