With Me In Seattle: Fight With Me Part 2

But... and there's always a but... he's my boss. And the last time I spent time with him at his place, it ended in disaster.

"I don't want to make things hard for us here," I find myself muttering.

"Things are already hard for us here. We've been struggling for eight months to pretend that there's nothing between us, and we both know it's a lie." He pulls away from me and shoves his hands back in his pockets, and I know he's giving me some s.p.a.ce, letting me decide.

I shake my head and look down at my shoes, planting my hands on my hips.

"Unless you aren't interested in me, and if that's the case, I sincerely apologize."

I whip my head up at the chill in his voice and find his eyes narrowed on my face, searching me. This is it, he's given me an out.

Tell him you're not interested. Walk away, Jules.

But I can't. I just... can't. And it f.u.c.king p.i.s.ses me off that I'm feeling vulnerable and confused.

"I don't know what to do," I whisper and close my eyes.

"Don't over think it," he whispers back. Natalie is right, whispering is s.e.xy as h.e.l.l. "Let's just spend a few days getting to know each other better. If we decide there's no chemistry, fine, we'll get back to business as usual, no hard feelings." He reaches out and runs his knuckles down my cheek again and his eyes warm, and I know I'm sunk. "I'd like to spend a few days with you, away from here."

I turn away from him and walk to his windows, looking out at the twinkling lights of the city. I want this. Two days with Nate, not worrying about saying or doing or looking at him in an inappropriate way, just being myself. Maybe we'll hate each other by morning.

I doubt that.

I take a deep breath and turn around. He's standing there, his hands still in his pockets, looking s.e.xy as sin in that suit, his face completely sober, his eyes searching mine, and I know I can't resist what he's offering.

"I'll meet you at your place in two hours."

A smile tickles his lips. "I can pick you up."

"No, I'd rather have my own car." He frowns and I explain further. "If you hate me by morning, I don't want to be dependent on you for a ride home."

"I'm not going to hate you, Julianne, but if that's the way you want it, fine. I have one condition."

I raise my eyebrows. "What's that?"

"You will not run out on me this time. If you decide you want to leave it will be after you've discussed it with me first so I don't wake up to any surprises."

"Okay," I murmur. "Did I wound your fragile ego that badly?" I ask sarcastically.

"No, you hurt my feelings, and that doesn't happen often. I'd rather not relive it."

Oh.

Before I can respond he walks to his desk and gathers his keys, wallet and the left overs, locks up his desk and grabs a briefcase. "Let's go."

Yoga pants, tank, Nikes. Extra underwear, bras, jeans, t-s.h.i.+rts. Jesus, Jules, you'll only be gone for 48 hours, and that's if you're not completely sick of each other by tomorrow. I survey my small suitcase, and then grab my new strapless grey dress with pink stilettos, handbag and accessories. Maybe we'll go out.

I throw in some toiletries, jewelry, and makeup. Then I shove my iPad into the Louis Vuitton handbag that my obsessively generous brother-in-law got for me and load everything into my little red car.

Good Lord, it looks like I'm moving in. Aren't I? For the weekend, anyway.

Before I can chicken out I lock up the house and drive back into the city to Nate's apartment building in downtown Seattle. He texted me the address, but I remember the way. How could I forget?

I park underground in the extra s.p.a.ce he owns, grab my small grey suitcase and purse and head for the elevator.

Dear G.o.d, I'm going to throw up.

I watch the numbers above the door climb as the elevator ascends to the thirtieth floor, and as each floor pa.s.ses antic.i.p.ation and nervousness grip my chest. I'm not convinced that this is a good idea. Yet here I am.

I take a deep breath and ring Nate's doorbell. He answers quickly, opening the door wide and standing back to let me in. He's changed into soft faded blue jeans and a long-sleeved white t-s.h.i.+rt, his hair loose and pushed back from his face, just screaming for my fingers to be buried in it, and I'm glad that I had the foresight to change into blue jeans and a simple black t-s.h.i.+rt myself.

"I was afraid you'd change your mind," he murmurs, and smiles gently at me, his gray eyes warm.

"No need to worry, here I am." He takes the handle to my suitcase and sets it aside, closing the door, and then pulls me into him, his arms wrapped around my shoulders. I brace my hands on his lean, jean-clad hips and we just stand here, looking at each other.

"Thank you," he murmurs.

"For what?"

"Agreeing to spend the weekend with me." He leans down and kisses my forehead gently and I frown. This is a new side to Nate. I like it. How many more sides to him will I meet this weekend?

"Well, I've always found you to be pretty persuasive." I smile up at him and I see the humor in his eyes.

"I'm happy to hear that." He steps back and links my fingers with his. "Let's get you settled."

Still holding my hand, he wheels my suitcase behind us and leads me through his condo. It's really spectacular. The floors are all a honey-colored hardwood. The front door opens up into a great room with tall ceilings and large windows with a great view of Seattle and the Sound. The furniture is plush and inviting, in brown and red tones. The kitchen is to die for, and I can't wait to get in there and cook.

Cooking is a pa.s.sion of mine.

This kitchen gives me a girl hard-on. Seriously.

Six-burner natural gas stove, with a grill, double oven and warming drawer, two sinks, lots of light colored granite counter s.p.a.ce, and a huge refrigerator.

"Can I cook for you this weekend?" I ask as we pa.s.s by the kitchen.

"You cook?" he asks, looking back at me with surprise.

"I love to cook." I smile. "Do you?"

"I do too. Perhaps we can cook together?"

"Okay."

He turns away from me again, leading me from the room, toward the bedrooms. G.o.d, he's something to look at. Especially in jeans, which I've never seen him in before. His shoulders are so broad, and his t-s.h.i.+rt hugs the muscles across his back. His jeans fall off his hips in that s.e.xy way that toned men have that make women sit up and drool.

And I don't know what it is about a s.e.xy man barefoot in jeans, but holy s.h.i.+t.

Are we seriously going to jump right into bed? No, hey, would you like a drink? Or would you like to watch a movie?

Just, welcome to my home, get in my bed?

Nate leads me down the hall and points out a guest bathroom and an office. Then he walks right past his bedroom and stops at the door at the end of the hall. He opens the door and walks in, and I follow, completely confused.

"This is my spare bedroom. You're welcome to use it while you're here." He places my suitcase on the ottoman at the end of the beautiful queen-sized bed. The headboard is black swirly wrought iron and the bedding is blue and green, matching the nautical themed artwork on the walls.

"I'm not sleeping in your room?" I ask and c.o.c.k my head to the side, studying him.

"You're welcome to sleep in my room if that's what you want, but I don't want to a.s.sume anything. I told you that I wanted to spend the weekend with you to get to know you better, and that's the truth. If you sleep with me, I won't be able to keep my hands off you, and if there is no s.e.x this weekend, I'm okay with that."

I raise an eyebrow. "You're okay with no s.e.x?"

"It'll kill me because all I've thought about for the better part of a year now is getting your beautiful body naked, in the light this time so I can see you, but there's time for that." He walks back to me, those beautiful gray eyes on mine, and runs his fingertip down my cheek. "You are so lovely, Julianne. I love your gorgeous blonde hair and your blue eyes. And I so enjoy your smart mouth."

Holy. c.r.a.p.

But then my snarky side rears her ugly head for a moment. We haven't slept together since last summer, and I know, just by looking at him, that he wouldn't lack for willing bodies to bang, should he so choose.

He leads me out of the bedroom and back into the great room.

"Would you like something to drink?"

"Water would be great." I need to keep a clear head while I'm processing all of this. No s.e.x? With Nate? Why stay here then?

"I have a question." Nate crosses the living s.p.a.ce to the kitchen and pulls water and a beer out of the fridge and saunters back over to me.

"Shoot." He pa.s.ses me the water and we both sit on a plush, light brown couch. I kick my flats off and pull my feet up under me and settle in.

"If you don't want to have s.e.x with me, why am I staying overnight? We could just meet up during the day."

His beautiful gray eyes turn arctic, and I know I've said the wrong thing.

"I didn't say I don't want to have s.e.x with you. I said it's up to you. And I want you, here, for a full forty-eight hours. I don't want you to run away from me this time."

He takes a pull off his beer and glares at me.

Okay.

"Any more questions?" he asks with a raised eyebrow.

"One. How many other women have you f.u.c.ked since I was here last?"

Chapter Three.

Holy f.u.c.king s.h.i.+t! Why did that just come out of my mouth?

Because I want to know.

Nate's eyes go wide, and then p.i.s.sed off again. "Julianne, if you had been paying attention to me over the past year, you'd have noticed that I'm not interested in any woman, for f.u.c.king or otherwise, except you."

Oh. Really?

He pulls his sleeves up to his mid-forearms and runs his hands through his hair in frustration, and my eyes zero in on his right arm.

"What is this?" I scoot closer to him and can't help but run my fingers down his arm.

"A tattoo." A smile tickles his lips and I smile back at him.

"Does it go all the way up your arm?"

"Yes. It's a sleeve."

Oh my G.o.d, it's s.e.xy. It looks tribal, and it swirls around his forearm, from just above his wrist, disappearing under his s.h.i.+rt.

"So, my conservative-looking, suit-wearing boss has a tattoo and has his p.e.n.i.s pierced?" I ask with a smile.

Nate laughs and takes another pull on his beer. "Yes. You didn't seem to mind the piercing, if memory serves correctly."

And just like that my panties are soaked and I am on fire. No, I didn't mind at all.

"No, I don't mind it." I smirk. "I just didn't expect it. How long have you had this?" I run my finger down his arm again, and Nate grabs my hand and kisses it, then links his fingers with mine and rests them in his lap.

"Since my early twenties."

"Were you a bad boy?" I ask, teasing him.

"Oh, I think I still am on occasion." He's grinning, a full out grin, and it just takes my breath away.

"You don't smile enough," I murmur.

"I don't?"

"No, you have a great smile."

"Thank you. Want to know a secret?"

"Definitely."

Nate's still grinning, and he has an edgy, bad boy sparkle in his s.e.xy gray eyes. He props his gorgeous feet on the ottoman in front of him, crossing them at the ankle.

"Most of my front teeth are fake."