Returned to You (Second Chance with You Book 4) by Emma St. Clair & Second Chance & You

Author:Emma St. Clair & Second Chance & You [St. Clair, Emma]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2018-10-29T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 11

Colby was almost skipping with excitement but tried to hide it. Nate was staying for the hurricane! She knew she shouldn’t be excited. The thought of the hurricane itself still gave her a sharp thread of fear. It would destroy things, cause millions or more in damage, and injure or kill people. A tree could fall on the house. They could flood. She and Nate could be trapped in the attic…even the brief thought of being trapped in the attic with Nate got her thinking about things other than the hurricane.

Nate…with her…in the dark…

“Need a hand?”

Nate’s hip bumped her, and soapy water splashed onto the counter. Heat rose to her cheeks, as though he could read her thoughts.

“Now I need help wiping up the counters,” she said, giggling. “Dishtowels are under the sink, Mister.”

“Yes, ma’am. Or should I say aye-aye, captain. Do you have a preference?”

“I’d prefer ‘Yes, Master.’ That will work.”

“Yes, Master,” he said, ducking down to get the dish towels. As he did, Nate’s hand drifted over her ankle. A slight touch, but Colby felt it all the way up her spine. His fingertips against the sensitive skin shot through her nerves like they’d been set ablaze. Goosebumps broke out on her arms and she hoped he didn’t see it.

He stood, not acknowledging the tiny moment. Maybe he hadn’t meant to do it. But throughout their dinner, they’d both been dancing closer to the edge of something. Their flirtations growing as they eased into a familiarity that felt both comfortable and exhilarating. Colby’s nerves hummed like frayed wires, ready to spark to life at even the slightest touch.

“Counter’s clean,” Nate said, snapping the dish towel on her thighs. “Can I dry these?”

“My legs? No. You can’t dry my legs.”

He snorted. “May I dry these dishes, Master?”

“You may.”

Nate began with the big wooden bowl that had held the salad. They had somehow managed to eat almost everything at dinner. A small amount of fajita meat had been left and was now packed away in the fridge. They’d eat that first if the power went out. No sense wasting good fajita meat.

“You know, I think you’ve grown sassier in your old age,” Nate said.

“Hey,” she said, laughing. “I object.”

“To me saying you’re sassy? That’s a compliment.”

“To you calling me old. Twenty-six is hardly geriatric. Also, you’re the same age. Right? I don’t know when your birthday is, actually.”

“We never got to those details, did we?”

A silence stretched out between them. Every so often they hit on something that took them both back to the past and left an awkward silence between them. Each time, Colby found herself pausing, just in case that was the time Nate was finally going to open up.

They’d been having fun all night, but it didn’t lessen her hurt over not knowing. It was like a bruise—a little faded, but still tender and discolored by the unknown. She didn’t want to push him but wished this wasn’t hanging between them. If something was really happening here, as it seemed to be, she couldn’t fully give into it until she knew why.

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