“Okay,” I murmur, chewing on the perfect bakery good. “This place is amazing.”
Nash reaches for the other muffin, and I watch as he takes a huge bite, eating half in one go. Blinking, I watch as he chews, waiting for him to tell me it’s the best thing he’s ever had in his mouth, but instead, he just shrugs a shoulder.
“Doesn’t hold a candle to Shawn’s stuff. But it’s okay.”
I cannot imagine what his daughter-in-law creates if this masterpiece doesn’t hold a candle to it. Then he blows my mind again with his next words.
“We keep going, and it keeps staying this good, I’ll take you back to Pineville, and you can meet Shawn and King.”
Pressing my lips together, I roll them as I inhale through my nose, then let it slowly out of my mouth. I want that as much as I don’t want that.
“Nash,” I whisper.
He grunts, his eyes focused on mine as he lifts his cup of coffee to his lips and takes a drink. He waits for me to speak, to ask my question. I am feeling very… uneasy. I’m not sure if I want to ask him this because once I do, it could end what we’ve just begun.
“What happens if they don’t like me? If they don’t accept me?” I ask.
I watch as he takes his coffee over to the table and chairs. I watch as he sinks down in a chair, and I follow suit, sitting across from him.
My words cause him to pause. I watch as he places his coffee down on the table and then leans back in his chair. When those blue eyes focus on me, I’m instantly consumed by them.
“That won’t be an issue. They’ll like you just fine, sweetheart. I wouldn’t introduce them to someone I didn’t know they’d love.”
I’m wary of his confidence on the subject. “I’m over thirty years younger than you, Nash. Let’s be realistic. They are not going to be okay with that.”
I watch as he leans forward, extends his arm, and wraps his fingers around mine, giving me a squeeze.
“Sweetheart, I can understand if the age difference bothers you, and once you’re safe, you can go off to find a man that fits you better. I also know that right now, you make me feel… everything, and I’m not ready to let that go.”
“It doesn’t bother me, Nash. Nothing about you bothers me.”
My words are firm because I truly believe them. Nothing about him bothers me. Not his gray hair, not his age, not his body, his face, his heart, and not the fact that he’s already killed two people for me in the short time I’ve known him.
I think that Nash could do almost anything, and I wouldn’t give two shits because I’m falling for him. Completely and madly head over heels. I don’t think I could ever feel this way about anyone else.
NASH
The radio station is set to classic rock, and I have no doubt that James knows none of these songs, but she doesn’t complain. I reach for the radio to change it, but she wraps her fingers around my wrist and lets out a hum.
“Don’t change it,” she murmurs. “I like music. I don’t care what kind it is.”
I don’t say anything, mainly because I’m not sure what to say. Instead, I move my hand to the steering wheel, and I drive. I don’t hear what’s on the radio. I don’t give a shit. All I can do is drive because if I don’t, I’m going to pull over and fuck her just for being goddamn amazing to my old ass.
“Nash,” James calls out.
I clear my throat but don’t verbally answer her. Instead, I continue to drive. Gripping the steering wheel, I try to control my fucking self. I can’t just pull over and fuck her right here and now. I’m not a kid. But when her hand reaches out, I feel her fingers gently slide along my forearm.
“Sweetheart?” I ask when she doesn’t continue.
Clearing her throat, she grips my forearm gently and then lets out a heavy sigh. “Don’t change a thing about yourself for me. Our age difference doesn’t define us. You want to put oneighties rock, I like that. Maybe I’ll put on current pop music for you tomorrow.”
Swerving the pickup to the side of the road, I throw it intoParkand look over to her. Resting my wrist on the top of the steering wheel, I turn to look at her. Her words are sweet, but I don’t want to hear them.
“Our age difference ain’t fuckin’ shit, sweetheart.”
“But you keep saying that it is, and I want you to know that it doesn’t define us.”
Reaching across the truck, I slide my hands beneath her armpits and tug her toward me. Thankfully, she comes willingly and climbs across the cab of the truck. Straddling my thighs, she leans back against the wheel, tipping her chin slightly as her eyes find mine.