Page 51 of Broken-Hearted

“How am I looking at you?”

“Like you looked at me during breakfast.” When eating breakfast suddenly took a backseat to screwing each other's brains out.

He drags his gaze from my breasts. “We’re just here to talk.”

“About?”

He shrugs. “Whatever you want.”

I don’t believe him. But I’m naked, the water looks good, and he keeps saying things that make me curious, so I wade into the water, releasing a soft sigh when it’s as cool and refreshing as I hoped it would be.

Nathan returns to floating on his back. “I used to waste hours just like this when I was a kid.”

I join him in floating with my arms outstretched. “You did?”

“Yeah.”

“You sound like you stopped.”

“I did.”

“Why?”

“Not sure. Guess I grew out of it.”

My mind flashes back to growing up in my pack. My parents used to say if I could have been a wolf all the time, I’d have done it. All I wanted to do was lose myself in the forest. “You’re lucky to have this lake. I didn’t have one in Ohio.”

“Ohio?” He turns his head toward me.

“Was home.” I track a fluffy white cloud across the sky. “Until it wasn’t any longer.”

I try to keep the pain out of my voice, but it bleeds through, just like it always does when I think of my family.

“What else did you like to do?” Nathan surprises me by not pushing to know more about my pack.

I turn to look at him. “Why does that matter?”

“I’m romancing you, and that means we talk about the stuff that matters.”

“Because?” I feign disinterest.

“Because I happen to like you, Clara Vincent, in case I haven’t made that clear.”

“I pushed you down a mountain,” I remind him, ignoring how pleased I am to hear him admit it.

He snags my hand and tugs me closer, pressing a kiss on the inside of my wrist. “It was more of a hill. Favorite color.”

I blink at him. “What?”

“We’re getting to know each other. What’s your favorite color? Mine is green.”

I’m not sure if I want to laugh or splash him. “Purple.”

“Light or dark.”

I bite the inside of my cheek, hiding my smile. “Light.” As we float, he laces his fingers with mine. “Blackshaw…?”

“Wouldn’t want you floating away.” He sounds innocent, but if I were to angle my head his way, I’m positive he’d be grinning.

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