Page 22 of Long Hard Road

“Good morning.”

“What time is it?” I blinked against the sunlight reflecting off the snow.

“Seven. I let you sleep in.” He looked at my bare legs. “You might want to put on some pants. It’s cold out here.”

I nodded. “Hence why I was planning to stay in here.”

“You can’t hide inside this cabin for a month. Put on your clothes and fix that nest on your head. I’ll wait.” His eyes slowly traveled back up to my face. “Or don’t. This look is kind of hot.”

“Give me a minute.” I slammed the door in his face before those hypnotizing eyes of his could pull me under a spell.

Ten minutes later, I opened the door to find him leaning against the porch railing, hands shoved into the pockets of his perfectly fitting jeans.

“Are we going to be outside again?” I asked, debating if I had put on enough layers. I was wearing my warmest coat, but I only had a sweater underneath.

“Maybe a little bit. Just bring your hat and gloves and you should be fine.”

I already had my gloves in my coat pocket, but I ducked back inside to grab a black beanie and then locked the door behind me. Nate walked to the passenger side of his truck and opened the door, holding out a hand to me.

“I feel like I should know where you are taking me before I agree to get in your truck.” My fingers grazed across his palm as I took his hand.

“First stop is breakfast. The rest you’ll find out later.”

“This almost feels like a date.”

He shrugged. “Maybe it is a date. You planning on kissing me at the end of our time together?”

“Only if you impress me, Sullivan.”

His eyes sparked with surprise. “Challenge accepted, angel.”

The breakfast spot ended up not being Amelia’s café as I had initially assumed. Instead, Nate headed out of downtown on the highway, one hand resting comfortably on the steering wheel, the other tapping a rhythm on the gear shift in time with the song playing on the radio.

“Is this the oldies station?” I teased.

“You have a problem with classic rock?” His glare lacked any actual annoyance.

“Not at all. This is actually my favorite kind of music.” I watched out the window as we passed a pasture full of cattle. “Can I tell you a secret?”

“Of course.”

“I hate most of the music I perform.” I had never admitted that to anyone. If the wrong person found out, my career could be ruined in an instant. “In fact, I don’t like singing or performing at all.”

Nate was quiet for a long moment before he asked, “Why do you do it then?”

“Because it’s expected of me.” I had tried quitting many times, but I was always guilted into recording just one more album or doing one more tour.

“That’s the first thing we’re going to change, Madison.” He tugged on my hair to pull my attention back to him. “You’re going to start doing things because you want to do them, not because someone else expects you to do it.”

“So if I don’t want to spend the day with you…”

“Then I’ll turn this truck around and take you back to the cabin. Just say the word.”

I could tell that he meant it. He would respect my wishes even if it meant ruining whatever he had planned for us. “I was promised breakfast, Sullivan. You’re not getting out of this.”

“Alright then.” He gave a satisfied nod. “But only since it’s what you want to do.”

Eating breakfast wasn’t what I really wanted to do with Nate Sullivan. What I really wanted to do was reenact some of the things we had done together in my dreams last night. But I wasn’t sure how I could casually ask someone if he would bury his face between my thighs.

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