Want Me (12 page)

“Top shelf, medicine cabinet. Big old box. Probably Brady’s but he shouldn’t miss them. Grab a handful.”

Nate’s eyes opened very wide.

“Not all for tonight. For God’s sake, I’ve got work in the morning.”

He laughed and followed her inside, where the downstairs was quiet, and the evening was about to get juicy. After hanging up their coats, they hurried to the second floor. Luckily, Brady’s room was dark just like the rest of the hall. As if it were some kind of spy mission, Nate gave her a nod before he peeled off to Myles’s room. She hurried to her own and got undressed as quickly as she could.

Her thoughts were tripping over themselves, first about Nate, then about the interview, then back to Nate. She made a quick trip to the bathroom, and when she closed the bedroom door behind her, she let all her thoughts of Easter eggs and interviews go in favor of picturing how she wanted to look when Nate came in.

Robe off or on? Her first thought was off, but naked on the bed seemed so normal. Although he really liked her hair. Maybe she could arrange it so that it covered certain bits… .

Nate wouldn’t care at all. It wasn’t a show, and she wasn’t trying to dazzle him. He liked her. She liked him. They were good together. For now.

Her robe slid off her shoulders, and she pushed the comforter back on the bed. He would be here in a moment, and her heart was already beating faster, her nipples getting hard. He’d been so happy for her. Cheering her on.

The line she straddled was thin. Too much optimism and she feared the eventual crash would smash her beyond help. Too much pragmatism and why bother?

Two quick taps came seconds before he slipped inside and locked the door. It still felt like a spy novel, and that was good. The element of drama was important in this fragile game.

“You take my breath,” he said, walking slowly toward her. He was James Bond sexy in his robe. All he was missing was the martini. It helped that he’d run his hand through his hair, that his eyes were already dark with arousal.

“I’ll give it back before you leave.” She reached for his belt, then pushed the robe off, and the press of his skin on hers made everything fuzzy. He kissed her long and slow as they maneuvered between the sheets, breaking only when absolutely necessary. Finally, though, their heads were on pillows and his knee was between her thighs.

“I almost came here last night.”

“Why didn’t you?” She smiled at the feathery swirls he idly traced on her belly.

“I had a very long conversation with myself. I was completely unreasonable for the most part.” He pressed a warm, moist kiss to the side of her jaw, then trailed his lips to her ear. “God, I can be an idiot.”

Her eyes briefly drifted closed. “How so?”

“I’d almost convinced myself that it would be in both our best interests for me to wake you at one-thirty in the morning when you had to be up at six o’clock.”

“That’s not idiotic.”

He lifted his head, moving the breath that had been warming the back of her ear to her cheek. “I ended up being noble. What did I get wrong?”

“It would have been okay, that’s all. If you’d come.”

“It was one-thirty.”

“I know. I’d have let you in.” She slid her palm across the contours of his chest. He felt so damn good. So solid and safe. So Nate. “Turns out I like you.”

He kissed her, smiling. She felt his grin, then matched it with her own. When he pulled back, his gaze grew serious and the smile faded. “I wish you didn’t have to go to work tomorrow. You could reacquaint me with your city.”

“You lived here most of your life.”

A single finger trailed down her neck, then lower, all the way to her breast. “That’s true, but I never lived in your city. Mine was crowded and noisy and selfish. You love yours so much it has to be something special.”

It was an odd thing for him to say, even his voice sounded a bit strained. She searched his face, but if something was wrong, his expression gave nothing away. “It’s New York,” she said. “Of course it’s special. It’s the best city in the world.”

One hand was holding up his head, while the other continued to play with her body. It felt delicious and intimate for all its unconsciousness, so she settled down and dismissed her initial reaction as her own weirdness.

He’d switched from the single digit to all the fingers and sometimes the palm as he traced her, mapped her. Everywhere he went left a trail of sparks, and it was difficult to split her attention between the sensation and his words. But she wanted both. It was important to fit in everything she could while she had the chance.

“How many big cities have you been to?” he asked. “Paris? Florence? Sydney?”

She shook her head, shifting to her side a little more so she could get in on the touching action. She ran her hand up his hip and kept on going. “The only foreign city I’ve been to is Toronto. Which was wonderful, but it wasn’t New York.”

“Too bad you haven’t visited Europe. It’s not a bad plane ride from here.”

“Nope. When I was young, my parents were always at the plant. Now I’m always at the plant. It’s the curse of a family-run business.”

“That’s crazy.”

“That’s real life.”

“Well, see,” he murmured, “now the best is yet to come.” He kissed her nose, then her lips, and that was the end of talking. That hand of his got serious. When he slipped between her thighs, stroking lightly on the tender flesh, she tipped onto her back, thrusting up with her hips to show him she wanted more.

Two fingers pushed inside her and before she could grab hold of any part of him, he was down the bed. He licked her all over and around where his fingers were before he settled in with pointed tongue.

Her knees went up and her heels dug into the mattress as he kept thrusting inside her, kept circling her clit with ever increasing pressure and speed.

Shannon’s back arched with exquisite tension, her hands fisted the sheets, and she could already feel the beginning of her orgasm starting low and deep.

“Now,” she said. She lifted her head and tried to focus. “Now, please, Nate, now.”

He looked at her from where he sucked her nub between his lips, and she could see he didn’t want to stop, but she did. As wonderful as it was, she wanted him inside her.

“Please.”

He let her go, his fingers as reluctant as his mouth.

She had enough sanity left to grab one of the condoms on the night table, but he had to take it from there. Even though he wasn’t touching her, except for his knees against her inner thighs, she was still close, still trembling, still moving her body as if his cock were already buried to the base.

Seconds later, he was there, he was sliding in and groaning as if it were the best feeling he’d ever had in his life.

The way he filled her made her writhe, made her crazy, and when she tasted herself on his tongue as he kissed her, she made noises she’d never heard before.

She came from his thrusting. He didn’t use his fingers again, and neither did she. But she came and the sensation was so strong she nearly bucked him off.

“Jesus, Shannon,” he said, holding her hips as if he’d never let her go. “I can’t…”

He came while she was still shuddering with aftershocks. There wasn’t enough air in the world to fill her lungs, and her heart was beating itself out of her chest, and oh, God, it was unbelievable.

“I’ve never…” she said between deep gasps. “I’ve never had that happen before.”

Nate had pulled out, flopped next to her. “What?”

“I’ve never come from intercourse alone.”

He looked at her and grinned. Smugly. “No kidding.”

“It’s true. You do have mad skills.”

“I’m inspired. You’re amazing. Everything about you gives me such pleasure.”

She curled into his side and brushed her hand across his chest. “I know. You, too.”

He petted her arm for a while. “Where would you go?” he asked. “If you could go anywhere at all?”

“Um, I’m not sure. Paris. London. I’ve always wanted to go there. Rome, Florence, Switzerland, India, a safari in Africa, Machu Picchu, the Netherlands, Australia, New Zealand, Banff—”

His laughter made her head bounce on his chest.

“What?”

“You surprise me. I was starting to think you’d evolved into a typical stagnant New Yorker.”

“Hey.”

“Don’t get me wrong. That’s a lot of dreams and I’m glad you have them,” he said.

She sniffed. “That’s all they are. Dreams.”

“Don’t say that.”

“It’s true, but it’s not as if I’m trapped in some urban tragedy. It’s my family we’re talking about. Everything we’ve built for generations. I’m doing my part, is all. Times are tough, but the plant will—”

He squeezed her arm. “I don’t want to talk about the plant. In fact, I want you to pretend that you don’t have anything standing in your way. You’ve got the time, the money, the freedom to go wherever you want. Where would you go first?”

“No responsibilities, huh?”

“Exactly.”

“I don’t think my imagination is that good.”

“Sure it is. It’s just pretend. You can go anywhere on earth. Where would it be? The first place?”

She sighed and let the reality float away, let herself imagine a life that couldn’t be. “An island, I think,” she said. “Somewhere exotic and quiet and mystical.”

“Ah, now you’re talking my language.” He brushed her skin with the tips of his fingers. “That’s Bali. It’s a magical place. The mountains, the caves. The people are so generous, and you can lose yourself in the green jungles or in the water with coral reefs and brilliant fish all around you. Take a whole day and wander the beaches, or go to the temple where the monkeys are sacred. The scent of incense mixed with the smells of the earth, the water, the sky. It’s so beautiful there, Shannon, I don’t have enough words. It’s paradise.”

Shannon’s eyes were closed and she tried to picture herself on his island, but the passion he had for his true home overshadowed his descriptions. “It sounds perfect.”

“It is.”

She smiled and kissed his chest. Promised herself she’d be brave and not choke on the words. “And you can’t wait to get back there.”

He stilled beneath her. Not even breathing.

12

N
ATE
PURPOSELY
LEFT
FOR
his noon lunch at ten. The meeting was at Eleven Madison Park, in the Flatiron District, and he wanted to walk. It was a beautiful day, he hadn’t even worn a coat, just his suit jacket. He headed north on 3rd Avenue, thinking about everything that had happened since his conversation with Danny at the pub.

There were a lot of things he’d had to do in his life that were unpleasant, even painful. He’d witnessed the devastation caused by tsunamis and earthquakes on people’s lives and their communities. But he’d been there to help people recover and rebuild. Now he was being asked to rip apart the foundations of Shannon’s life, and it was burning a hole in his gut.

All that travel talk had been illuminating. He’d wanted to get a feel for how much of her dedication was something she chose versus something she hadn’t been able to avoid. Naturally, he’d hoped her choices had been limited, and that letting the plant go would be liberating, but that wasn’t what he’d heard. Yes, it was hard and she’d sacrificed a lot, but she hadn’t been forced. At least not on a conscious level.

He’d wondered when he saw that big sign outside Fitzgerald & Sons how Shannon had felt about being overlooked. She’d been a surprise to the family, five years after they’d stopped trying for a girl, but still, she must have felt like an outsider from time to time. She wasn’t one of the boys in other ways, as well. She’d been a show pony to their workhorses. That they still called her Princess said so much.

Finding out the truth wouldn’t kill her, but it would be a close thing. At least for a while. Her emotional investment was so complete he doubted she gave herself any room to imagine a different kind of life. She’d have to start from the ground up. It wouldn’t be a quick transition, that’s for sure.

So basically, he was going to yank the rug right out from under her, then disappear, leaving her to find her way alone.

That sucked. That sucked so hard he wanted to smash something. He slowed his pace, surprised that he’d been speed walking. Escaping? He was on Lexington, at East 26th, at the Armory in Kips Bay, and he had barely any recollection of how he’d gotten there. The building was a beautiful example of Beaux-Arts architecture, one of his personal favorites. But then a lot of buildings in the city were his favorites.

The Flatiron. The neo-Gothic New York Life Insurance Company, the marble courthouse on East 25th. Hell, the fantastic houses all around Gramercy Park were where he’d head when he needed to be on his own. Somehow, he’d always end up in one of the small green corners that weren’t exactly private, but not precisely parks. Or the basketball courts. There’d been so many when he was a kid, and had he passed a single one on his way up here?

He might have been walking in a daze, but he’d have stopped if there’d been an inviting court. Didn’t matter where he was in the world, he would always be lured by the call of a pickup game even if all he could do was watch.

It was a shame. There were schools and Union Square Park and Madison Square Park, but those weren’t places where he and Danny had hung out. They liked the little places, the neighborhood games.

He guessed that was one more thing that had vanished in the age of the internet. Too many kids spending their time online, playing video games, watching hundreds of channels on TV. Such a damn shame.

If he could get Shannon to put her talent to work on the neighborhood, she could transform the whole district. No one whipped up enthusiasm like she did. More importantly, she would love it. He was certain of that. She’d been born to do great things, and while keeping the family together was a fine goal, it only worked if the family wanted to be held together.

He wished, though, that he could be there for her. To encourage her, to make sure she knew every day that she could do anything she set her mind to.

Leaving behind the armory, he headed toward Park Avenue, trying to imagine some clever turn of phrase to tell her she’d been fighting for nothing. That her efforts had been wasted.

Nope, there was no nice way to say any of that. She would be crushed, and he’d be the one to deliver the blow.

* * *

S
HANNON
HAD
NO
BUSINESS
whatsoever meeting Rebecca and Bree for lunch at Brasserie 8½ in Midtown West, but she couldn’t stand having so much to say and so few people to say it to.

They’d just finished ordering, and she faced both of her friends from across the booth. “So,” she asked, as casual as she could possibly be, “what’s new?”

Bree put her hand up in front of her mouth, trying to hide her grin, while Rebecca didn’t even bother faking it. She just laughed.

“Please. You’re bursting with whatever it is you’ve got going on.” Rebecca Thorpe, who was still in the honeymoon phase of her relationship with her ex-cop, had no compunction about poking Shannon’s arm with the back end of her knife. “I have one hour for lunch, and I can’t even cheat a little bit. So talk.”

“I’m going to be on
WNYC News at Ten
on Thursday night.”

Bree and Rebecca both grinned like maniacs. “How come?” Bree asked.

“I’m being interviewed about the Easter egg hunt that my company sponsors in Union Square Park. Well, we’re not the only ones who sponsor the festivities, lots of local businesses do, but Fitzgerald and Sons coordinates the event and we put it all together.”

“Which means you put it all together,” Rebecca said. “But congratulations. This is thrilling. I’m not only going to watch it, I’m going to DVR the whole half hour, then call the station to tell them how impressed I was with the interview. And could I have the name of the beautiful redhead who was in charge?”

“Really?” Shannon asked. Rebecca wasn’t just a Thorpe, she was also a Winslow, which in this town meant huge money and incredible influence. Rebecca herself ran the Winslow Foundation, which raised millions for international aid. Huh. She should arrange a dinner with Nate while he was in town. They’d have a lot to talk about.

“Of course, really.”

“Why didn’t you say something before?” Bree asked. “I didn’t know a thing about an Easter egg hunt. How fun. Charlie can put something about the interview in his blog, and then we can do an ad for the event, if that would help.”

Shannon took a breath. Then another. She’d never asked her friends to go out of their way for her, even when it was tempting. Charlie, Bree’s boyfriend, wasn’t an ordinary blogger. He was Charlie Winslow, Rebecca’s cousin, and his blog was
Naked New York,
the single most talked-about social-media column in Manhattan.

“That’s going way, way above and beyond. I appreciate it so much, but please ask Charlie first. The proceeds all go to feed the homeless and I can send him the information about the charity and how it’s run. I don’t want either of you to feel obligated.”

“We’re friends,” Rebecca said, leaning over to clasp her hand. “And besides, you deserve everything good for coming up with the trading cards. We both owe you for that.”

Shannon held up her water glass, then put it down because the waiter came with the bottle of wine they’d ordered. After he left, she made a proper toast. “To friends and lovers and trading cards.”

“And to TV interviews,” Rebecca added.

Shannon sipped the very delicious chardonnay and couldn’t help but smile. There were wonderful things happening in her life, not the least of which was Nate. The trick there was not thinking too much about how soon he’d be gone.

She felt her mood falter and switched back to focusing on the interview, which with Bree and Rebecca’s help she could imagine actually having a big audience. She’d have to be smart, though. Not so self-promoting that she looked as if she didn’t care about Easter or the little kids who would be hunting for eggs.

“Oh, God. I’m going to be on TV. With people watching.”

“Yes,” Bree said. “That’s the point.”

“Okay. I know it’s been done a million times, but I’m going to wear green because it does look best on camera with my hair.”

“You look fantastic in green,” Bree said. “I have this great tartan skirt that would go so well with that hunter-green blouse that you wore that time when we went for sushi.”

“One of your skirts would fit on one of my thighs, but thanks for the offer.”

“You always look gorgeous anyway,” Rebecca said, just as the waiter brought out their food.

It took a few minutes to deliver the three salads, but soon they were alone. Again Shannon’s thoughts returned to Nate and what he would say when she told him the news about Charlie’s blog and Rebecca’s support. He’d be thrilled for her.

“You know,” Rebecca said, turning to Bree, “while the news about the interview is wonderful, why do I have the feeling that our friend Shannon buried the lead?”

“Hmm,” Bree said, nodding, ignoring Shannon completely. “I have to agree. The glow? The pink cheeks? The way she’s shifting around like she can’t sit still?”

“I’d lay odds it’s a guy.”

“The toast was a dead giveaway,” Bree said. “Not just a guy. A trading card guy.”

Shannon held up a hand. “Stop. Yes. You’re right. I wasn’t burying the lead. I was saving the best for last.”

Bree shook her head. “I’d say he’s one hell of a guy, but that’s only because you’re blushing so hot you’re about to set the tablecloth on fire.”

Shannon leaned forward. “His name is Nate Brenner, and he’s an architect and urban planner who works in international relief. He’s really good-looking, but more importantly he’s wonderful. You guys would like him so much. I bet he knows all about the Winslow Foundation, Rebecca.”

She smiled. “You mean you haven’t spent your nights talking about me and my foundation?” Her friend grinned, put her fork down and held out her hand. “Come on. Out with it.”

“What?”

Rebecca sighed. “You know very well exactly what. His card. Let’s see it.”

Shannon wasn’t proud of the fact that she’d stolen his card from the group. Not that she’d change one single thing, but she was still not proud. She opened her purse and took the card out. God, he was gorgeous.

She handed it over to Rebecca, and she could feel her blush intensify.

“Holy cow, he’s a hottie,” Bree said, as she practically laid over her friend to get a look. “No wonder you kept him to yourself. Look at that smile.”

“What organization does he work for?” Rebecca asked.

“The International Rescue Committee.”

“That’s one of the highest-rated charities in the world. They do phenomenal work. You say he’s an architect?”

“He rebuilds infrastructure in places that have been hit by earthquakes and tsunamis. Mostly in Indonesia and Asia but he thinks that might be changing soon. His home base is in Bali.”

Rebecca handed the card to Bree. “Oh, you have got to go see him in Bali,” Rebecca said. “Seriously. You’d love it there. It’s one of my favorite places on earth.”

“He loves it there, too. But there’s no way I can go,” Shannon said. “Everything at the plant is so tenuous. We’re short-staffed as it is. I can’t leave the country. I shouldn’t even be here.”

“It’s been like that since I met you,” Rebecca said. “There has to be a way you can steal some time for yourself. I’m sure your family would understand.”

“I don’t know much about what you do,” Bree said, not even looking up from his card.

“Run everything but the printing machines, basically. Payroll, taxes. The usual. But most of my time these days is spent on finding new clients.”

“It’s just your family running the whole thing?”

“We have forty-seven employees. For a couple of years now it’s just my father, my brother Brady and me in charge. My mom and my other brothers jumped ship.”

“Well, you should figure out a way to take some time off,” Bree said, meeting her gaze. “Did you know that when you talk about Nate, your whole face lights up? You really do glow.”

“I do?” She put her palms on her heated cheeks. “I’ve known him all my life. Since we were kids. He’s my brother Danny’s best friend. But then Nate went away after college and came back all grown up. Gorgeous. Sweet. Obviously, he’s got a tremendous heart. He could be earning buckets running his father’s architectural firm, but he doesn’t want to live in New York. Or do traditional building.”

“How come it says he’s a one-night stand?”

“He’s leaving as soon as he finishes his business here.”

“But his passion is making a difference,” Bree said, showing the back of the card to Rebecca, who snatched it up.

“And the bottom line is that he’s a sweetheart.” Rebecca held up the card as if it was a flag. “A
sweetheart.
”

“He is. He’s just not going to be my sweetheart,” Shannon said, “at least not forever.” She straightened, really hating how her voice had dropped off.

“Ah,” the two women across from her said in sync.

“No, it’s not like that. I’ve known all along he’s leaving, so it’s not a big deal.” She sipped her wine, avoiding eye contact.

“You’ve simply got to go to Bali to visit him,” Rebecca said, her voice brooking no arguments. “You owe it to him, and to yourself.” She gave the card back, but she’d made her point.