Taking the Plunge (21 page)

“Because they are.”

“That couldn’t be further from the truth. I’m a very difficult person to get close to. Most of the time, I intim
idate people.”

“Because you’re so hot,” she said.

He shook his head then kissed her forehead. “I don’t have any friends that are girls besides my cousin. I don’t plan on getting any besides Sydney and Ren. I’m not a liar and a cheat. I’m yours—only yours. I’m sorry if that wasn’t clear.”

Now she felt horrible for overreacting. “Thatcher, I know that already. I’m sorry I freaked out on you. I trust you more than anyone.”

He nodded. “Thank you. That means a lot to me. Without trust, there can be no relationship.”

She cupped his face and kissed his cheek. “You’re my best friend, Thatcher. I trust you with my life. I can’t lie and say I’ll never be jealous because I know I will, but I do trust you.”

“There’s no need to be jealous either. You’re the only person I think about in a romantic way. My body and my thoughts are yours exclusively.”

“You’re so sweet to me.”

“Because I love you.” He picked her up then carried her from the room. “Now take a shower and get ready for bed. I want to kiss you everywhere and get a good night sleep.”

She smiled. “Okay.”

“And I am sorry about your dad. You know I’m always here to talk.”

“I know, Thatcher. You’ll always be there.”

His eyes shined bright at her words. Wordlessly, he conveyed his gratitude without speaking. He nodded then walked away, disappearing into his bedroom. After she showered and dressed herself, she walked inside his bedroom. He was lying in bed already, shirtless. That was a good sign. When she slid between the sheets, she realized he was wearing his briefs. Disappointment flooded through her. But they didn’t get far anyway. After he kissed her, devoured her body and her mouth, she felt herself convulse around him, exploding. He followed right behind her, getting off to the touch of her hand.

22

“So you’re officially withdrawing from the university?” Sydney asked when they sat in the cafeteria.

“Yeah,” Nancy
said with a smile.

“Are you sure?” she asked.

Nancy nodded. “More than sure. I know where I belong.”

Sydney glanced at Ren then nodded. “If that’s what you want, you have my support.”

“Thank you,” Nancy said.

Sydney glanc
ed at Coen, Henry, and Derek then moved closer to Nancy at the edge of the table. The guys were discussing fantasy football so they weren’t listening anyway.

Sydney smiled. “So, what’s been happening with Thatcher?”

Nancy blushed.

“Ooh. This is
gonna be good,” Ren said.

“By the way, Laura was totally put out that you landed him,” Sydney said with a laugh. “But she got over it.”

Nancy shrugged. “We’ve been doing—stuff.”

“You haven’t had sex yet?” Sydney asked.

Nancy shook her head. “No.”

“But you already said the L word, right?” Ren asked.

“Yeah,” Nancy answered.

“So…what are you waiting for?” Sydney asked.

“I’m not waiting for anything,” Nancy said. “Every time we start to fool around, we both—finish right away.”

Ren cringed. “Thatcher doesn’t have any endurance? That sucks.”

“No,” Nancy said. “It’s not that. It’s like doesn’t want to have sex.”

“Why don’t you just ask him?” Sydney asked. “I mean, you want to do the deed, right?”

Nancy glared at Sydney. “Is that a serious question? Have you seen him?”

Sydney laughed. “Good point.”

“Is he waiting until marriage?” Ren asked.

“No, I know he’s had sex before. He used to be engaged,” Nancy said.

“What?” Sydney asked. “He was engaged? What happened?”

Nancy shrugged. “She left him.”

“Was she crazy?” Ren asked.

“I asked the same thing,” Nancy said.

“Just ask him what’s going on,” Sydney said. “If a guy wants to have sex, he has sex. He definitely skips all the foreplay stuff.”

Coen looked over at Sydney. “What are you hens gossiping about?”

Sydney and Ren exchanged a glance. “Tampons,” Sydney answered.

He m
ade a disgusted face. “Carry on.”

Sydney giggled then looked away. “The first time I asked Coen to get me some from the store, he acted like he was about to walk onto the battlefield.”

Nancy laughed. “Thatcher isn’t like that. He’s so—calm, mature. He doesn’t get upset about anything. He’s always so pragmatic and—logical.”

“That’s good,” Sydney said. “But also bad.”

“What do you mean?” Nancy asked.

“Well, is he passionate—in the bedroom?” Sydney asked.

Nancy replayed last night in her head. “There’s not a problem there.”

“Just got for it,” Ren said. “Crawl on top of him and do it.”

“Are you on the pill still?” Sydney asked.

“Yeah,” Nancy asked.

“Then go for it,” Ren said. “Henry was so against it for the longest time. I had to take the reins a few times.”

“Well, that was totally different,” Nancy said.

“Then talk to him,” Sydney said. “You know him better than we do.”

“I guess,” Nancy said. “I’ll ask him today after work.”

“Problem solved,” Sydney said with a smile.

Ren shook her head. “This guy sounds too perfect.”

Nancy smiled. “He is perfect. He’s the real deal. And his
thing
is—impressive.”

“I know you aren’t talking about tampons,” Coen said, glaring at Sydney.

“Now we’re talking about the pill,” Sydney said. “Go away.”

Coen glared at her.

Sydney rolled her eyes. “He’s annoyed that there’s a guy in the world that’s hotter than him.”

“I can hear you,” he said.

“I said it pretty loud,” she snapped back.

Nancy laughed. “You’re married. Why is he being jealous?”

“I have no idea,” Sydney said.

“Well, talking about the size of cock doesn’t make me feel any better,” Coen said.

Sydney grabbed a napkin and threw it at him. “You’re being so annoying right now.”

“How would you feel if I was talking
about the size of another girl’s rack?”

She sighed t
hen moved to his seat, sitting on his lap. “I love you, baby.” She rubbed her nose against his then kissed him gently, making him melt. “Is that better?”

“It doesn’t
hurt to say it once in a while,” Coen said.

“You’re cute,” she said as she ran her hand down his chest. “You’re getting all jealous.”

“I’m not jealous,” he said quickly.

“I like Thatcher,” Henry said. “We went out to dinner last night.”

“What?” Coen said, leaning forward. “Why didn’t you invite me?”

Sydney shook her head. “Why are you acting this way?”

Coen ignored her. “What’s up with that? Are you guys best friends now?”

Henry laughed. “Dude, I’m still your best guy. He just wanted to hang.”

Sydney nodded. “Now I get it. You’re jealous Thatcher is going to replace you as the alpha of this group.”

Derek took a bite of his pizza. “I like him too.”

Coen glared at him. “You’re the one person who’s supposed to be on my side.”

Derek shrugged. “I can’t lie. He’s awesome.”

Coen shook his head. “Worthless.”

Nancy
smiled, loving how much her friends liked him. She was starting to think they liked him more than they liked her. “How about you hang out with Thatcher?” she asked.

Coen looked at her. “Why? Did he say he would want to do that?”

“I can ask.”

He shrugged. “Whatever.”

Sydney laughed and kissed him on the cheek. “You’re so cute.”

He smiled. “I like what I’m hearing.”

Nancy glanced across the table and looked at Derek. If he was hurt or upset by her relationship with Thatcher, he hid it well. She was glad he was being so supportive. It meant a lot to her. She could forgive him for everything he did since he was being selfless about the situation.

After she finished her classes and fi
nally withdrew from the college, she left the parking light with a weight lifted off her shoulders. Now that she was pursing her dream, something that was actually feasible, she realized college wasn’t where she belonged, especially science. Being with Thatcher, learning from him was where she was better suited.

When she thought about
him, she felt her stomach fill with butterflies. She couldn’t stop smiling, thinking about his gorgeous eyes, his naked body, his—stuff. When her mind wondered to obscene daydreams, she wondered why he hadn’t initiated something more intimate. They were doing juvenile things, which she still enjoyed, but she wondered why something more hadn’t happened.

When she arrived at the house, she walked to her desk and started working, hoping Thatcher would come downstairs and pay her a visit. After a few minutes, he appeared downstairs, wearing slacks, a collared shirt, and a vest. To say he looked handsome would be an understatement. He approached her desk then kissed her gently, making her swoon right on the spot.

“I just came down to say hello. I didn’t mean to distract you.”

“You can distract me whenever you want.”

He smiled. “I wish I could say the same.”

She ran her hands up his chest, wanting to rip off his shirt. “Why do you look so spiffy?”

“I have an appointment with a client.”

“Oh. They’
re in for a treat.”

“That’s how I sell my paintings,” he said with a smile.

She rose to her feet then sat on the desk. He pulled her ass to the edge then came between her legs, his hands resting on her thighs. She wrapped her arms around his neck then kissed him gently, her tongue touching the corner of his mouth. His hands moved up her waist, stopping just below her breasts. He didn’t move further up and she wanted him to. Nancy grabbed his hands and placed them over her breasts. Thatcher didn’t move for a moment, breathing into her mouth. Then he squeezed her breasts then gently and kissed her harder, his erection pressed against her waist.

A voice was heard as well as approaching footsteps.

“Okay, I’ll call you back,” a woman said before she reached the door.

Thatcher pulled his hands away then stepped back just as Nancy straightened her clothes and returned to her seat behind the desk.

The woman was young and thin, wearing a pencil skirt and a blouse.

“Hell
o, Thatcher,” she said as she opened her arms.

He embraced her then stepped back quickly. “It’s nice to see you, Louisa.”

“I’ve been meaning to add something new to the collection.”

“Well, you came to the right place.”

Louisa looked at Nancy, an eyebrow raised. “Where’s Diane?”

Thatcher placed his hands in his pockets. “She resigned a week ago. This is her replacement, Nancy.”

Nancy stood and shook her hand. She waited for Thatcher to introduce her as his girlfriend but he didn’t.

“Shall we?” Thatcher said, extending his hand to the showcase room.

“We shall,” she said as she walked in.

Nancy watched them go with a sad expression. She wasn’t sure why she was so offended Thatcher didn’t introduce her. Perhaps it was because the woman was young and attractive. She wasn’t sure.

After they were in the showcase room for half an hour, Nancy tried to preoccupy herself with other assignments. Louisa was probably swooning all over him, touching his arm and his back. She pinched her pen a little harder than necessary when she thought of it.

“Nancy?”

She looked up and saw Thatcher standing in the entryway. “Yes?”

“Could you join us please?”

“Of course.” She walked into the room and saw Louisa standing in front of the painting Nancy drew yesterday. Louisa stood in front of it, staring at it like she expected it to move.

“How much?” she asked.

Thatcher placed his arm around Nancy’s waist and ushered her forward. “Ask the artist.”

Nancy smiled, relieved that he showed her some affection.

“You painted this?” Louisa asked incredulously.

“Yes,” she said in a quiet voice.

Thatcher smiled at Nancy. “She’s very talented, one of the best artists I know. I’m honored that she allowed me to feature any of her artwork in my gallery.”

Louisa nodded then looked back at the painting.
“How much?”

Nancy didn’t know what to say. She didn’t think her work was worth more than twenty bucks, fifty at the most.

Thatcher sensed her hesitance. “Fifty.”

Louisa nodded. “I’ll take it.”

Nancy didn’t understand what just happened. Fifty what? Pennies? “You want to buy my painting?” she asked incredulously.

“Of course,” Louisa
said. “It’s beautiful. I work for an art collector. I know for a fact he would love this.”

Thatcher leaned into her ear.
“Confidence.”

Nancy nodded but said nothing.

Thatcher released his hold on her waist then grabbed the painting from the wall. “Nancy, could you please wrap this for Ms. Delacour?”

“Of course,” she said as she walked into her office. She wrapped it and packaged it just like Diane taught her. Thatcher and Louisa entered the room.

“I’m sorry I didn’t purchase any of your paintings today,” Louisa said as she smiled at him.

Thatcher nodded
. “No need for apology. Her paintings easily outshine mine.”

“You mi
ght have to remove her work,” Louisa said. “Otherwise she’ll put you out of business.”

He laughed. “Thank you for the advice.”

She took out her wallet then wrote the check, handing it to him. “Thank you.”

“Have a wonderful day,” Nancy said as she handed over the painting.

“Good day to you,” Louisa said as she walked out.

Thatcher looked at Nancy, a smile on his face. “This belongs to you.” He handed her the check.

When she looked at the amount, her jaw dropped. “Oh my fucking god.”

Thatcher laughed loudly. “You heard the amount earlier.”

“I thought she meant fifty dollars, not
fifty thousand
dollars.”

He shook his head. “Your naivety is adorable. I can’t believe you don’t realize how talented you are.”

She looked at the check again then set it down. “I feel weird accepting that.”

“You earned it.”