“Thank you,” he said, trying to ignore the way his heart beat more furiously as she continued to trace soft lines along his jaw.
“And Nate?”
“Yes?”
“Because you don’t mind it when I speak my mind, I want you to know that I’m really enjoying our lessons. In and of themselves. Sometimes, I don’t think about where they might lead. Actually, most of the time I don’t think about where they’ll lead. I just think about how amazing it all feels with you,” she said, finishing her sweet ode with an even sweeter kiss on his lips that sent his heart racing and his mind galloping. This was supposed to be neat and clean, a tidy little deal that was mutually beneficial below the belt for the both of them.
But now, it had become something that turned those clear-cut lines into a wild chaos of zigs and zags. He couldn’t sort any of this out. All he knew with any kind of certainty was that he was going to London with her in a week, and somehow his goal had changed. When she’d first proposed their unconventional arrangement, he gave a yes borne from years of lust and desire for her.
Now he was saying yes for other reasons. Reasons that weren’t entirely clear in his head—reasons that came from a different place inside him.
A place he tried hard to deny even existed.
* * *
Nate had once thought that his job was pretty damn exhausting, but running a multinational hotel conglomerate was nothing compared to entertaining two newly walking, hardly talking, very busy one-year-old twin girls. Thank the Lord, Casey had handled the diaper changes. The woman needed a medal for that. The rest of the time though, they had been a team, and hell, did his nieces require a team.
After their evening bath, which resulted in his T-shirt becoming completely soaked when they splashed virtually the entire contents of the tub onto him, Casey and Nate dressed the girls in their pajamas.
“So let me get this straight. You yanked Bryan out of the luxury suite and that’s why we’re babysitting your nieces a few hours on a Sunday night before we fly to London?” Casey asked him for probably the twentieth time as she nudged him with an elbow.
“Hey, I had very important business to attend to at Yankee Stadium and I don’t regret it whatsoever.”
“Nor do I,” she said with a wink as she tugged a short-sleeved shirt on Cara. “And I certainly don’t regret spending time with these adorable little chunks of love,” she said, cooing at the baby.
He froze momentarily. Her eyes nearly popped out when she saw his expression.
“Oh my God, did you just prematurely freak out about the prospect of a woman wanting children?” she said calling him out on the deer-in-headlights stare he must have been sporting.
He held Chloe tighter. “I love my nieces. That’s all I’m going to say. And thank you again for helping me out here.”
“There’s no way I would let you do this on your own. I’m just as responsible as you are, and I also feel horribly guilty that you took them out of the stadium. Though, not too guilty,” she said with a laugh, as they made their way to the girls’ bedroom and tucked them into their cribs for the night.
But twenty minutes later, Chloe and Cara were crying up a storm, and neither Nate nor Casey had a very good idea of how to handle them. They had fed, bathed, and played with them, so the only recourse was to hold them. They retreated to the living room, each with a baby in their arms.
Nate made a pit stop in the kitchen, grabbing a carton of salted caramel gelato from the freezer and two small spoons. He joined Casey on the couch.
She held a finger to her lips. “Shhh . . .” She gestured with her eyes to Chloe, who was sound asleep already on her chest. Casey whispered, “Looks like she just wanted to be snuggled.”
“Let’s hope I can work the same magic on Cara,” Nate said, gently patting her on the back. After a minute, Cara settled in, letting out a soft exhale as she rested her head against his wet T-shirt.
“Do you want me to get one of Bryan’s T-shirts for you?” Casey asked him.
He shook his head. “Guys don’t borrow other guys’ T-shirts. Especially not guys who are married to their sisters. The only guy who I would ever borrow a shirt from would be my brother. And I don’t have a brother, so as you can see, I’m never going to borrow another man’s T-shirt.”
“On the other hand, I do not have this issue whatsoever. I would happily go take one of Kat’s T-shirts right now if I needed it, no questions asked, and I guarantee she wouldn’t have a problem with it.”
“Another beautiful difference between men and women. Anyway, I’ll grab a new one at home before we head to the airport. I need to swing by my house anyway. I forgot to bring my suitcase.” Nate popped open the top of the ice cream container and dug in. He brought the spoon to his mouth and was about to take a bite when he stopped and handed a utensil to Casey. “Ladies first.”
She took a spoonful of the ice cream then she froze, holding the spoon in midair. “I just had an idea,” she said, unfreezing as she snapped her head to look at him, her eyes practically glittering with excitement.
“No, Casey,” he chided. “We are not going to do it on my sister’s kitchen counter. You’re insatiable, woman.”
Admittedly there was a bit of truth to that. They’d been together a few times since the ballpark, but then they’d had to take a break mid-week when he travelled to Vegas where he met with Brent Nichols, a wildly successful late-night comedian who was also prepping to open a new nightclub in the city of sin. The club was on the outskirts of town, and Nate had been talking to him about the prospect of relocating it inside The Luxe on the Strip. That trip had cut into his time with Casey, but in the few nights he’d seen her before, they’d made the most of the shortened hours, and she’d passed his spanking course with flying colors. She’d also discovered that she was particularly fond of having her hair pulled when he took her from behind, with her bent over the bathroom sink. He’d told her to look in the mirror as he gripped her hair tight in his fist. My God, the sight of her wild abandon reflected back at him was branded on his brain forever. In fact, the image had proven quite useful one late night alone in Las Vegas when he’d taken matters into his own hands.
“No. That’s not what I mean,” she said, talking quickly. He recognized the tone instantly—she had entered the idea zone. “I was just thinking back to the night in New Orleans, when we shared the cake.”