Page 10 of Big Nick Energy

“Have you eaten dinner?” he asked, an edge of genuine concern in his voice. What was the guy’s obsession with trying to feed me?

“Does pizza at noon count?” I asked and watched, completely fascinated, his expression change into what I could only describe as stern.

“That’s not a Thanksgiving dinner,” he rumbled, like he was disappointed. I shrugged.

“It happens. Umm, so you’re here for me? I asked again. “Why?”

“I wanted to see you.”

“See me?” This was how a lot of my dirty daydreams started. Maybe I was having a stroke and was hallucinating? Or maybe one of the gummies in the snack room wasn’t a gummy but an edible?

“Yeah.” He stepped closer and then took two steps back, like he wasn’t sure of himself for a moment. Which was not like the man I knew. Not that Iknew,knew him. I didn’t. I just watched him every chance I could. “I brought you something,” he announced, and I blinked.

“You did?” What could he have brought me on Thanksgiving? He glanced at his truck and put a finger up. “Will you stay there and wait for me to get it?” he asked, almost like he was worried I would somehow run off and disappear.As if.

“You’re not going to try and lure me into your truck and kidnap me?” I teased with a soft laugh. Something in his gaze changed. Darkened. And just like that, I stopped laughing. “Itwas a joke.” I cleared my throat. Like Mick Marsh would ever be interested in me, much less enough to kidnap me. And if he tried, I would more than likely, even as stupid as it was, go willingly.

“I know. Umm…” He cleared his throat. “Do you want to come into the truck?” he offered.

He was twenty years, maybe more, my senior, but in that moment, the age difference didn’t matter. He was just a man standing in front of me. A really hot one but also one I could tell was slightly nervous. And it was endearing to see a slightly vulnerable side to a man who always seemed to have everything together.He’s nervous around me,a voice whispered. I chewed on my bottom lip to stop myself from grinning like some kind of creepy Cheshire Cat.

“I mean, it’s a little cold.” I shrugged. At that moment, a gust of wind picked up between us, and his face changed.

“Shit. I didn’t think,” he muttered, then suddenly, he was taking off his cable knit sweater, pulling it up and over his head in that complicated way guys did that made it look like you could end up seriously tangled yet was crazy hot. He wore a light blue dress shirt underneath, and when he moved closer, he pulled it down over me, and just like that, I was wearing his sweater.

“Wow.” I sighed dreamily. My body was suddenly overheated. “Umm, thanks,” I whispered, trying my best not to sniff the collar.

“Come on.” He took my hand and led the way to the passenger side of his truck. Without a word, he helped me up, and I watched him round the front of the truck. The streetlight we were parked under was older, and the light that shined down was a little dim, yet it cast him in a golden hue.

Before he got in, he went to the back door, opened it, took something out, then sat down in the driver’s seat

“This is a nice truck,” I mentioned, and he smiled.

“It’s a work truck,” he shared. I looked around. It didn’t look like any of the work trucks I’d been in before. Work trucks, in my experience, were usually messy and a little cluttered or dusty. This one looked like it had just been driven off a lot with less than a hundred miles on it.

“Cool,” I mumbled, and that’s when he turned and brought something between us. I looked down, and my eyes widened. “Is that––“

“Apple pie,” he announced. I stared at the cute carboard box with a plastics window on top. A small one-person-sized apple pie sat inside with a little apple-shaped pie cut-out on the edge of the crust lacing. “I figured you might be working all night, and you wouldn’t have had a chance to have something sweet.”

“Something sweet,” I repeated softly. My stupid heart wanted to swoon, but my head didn’t let me. I backed away, and without thinking, my hand reached for the door handle. “How did you know I was working?” Self-preservation won out over the hopeless romantic who was stomping her feet, upset I was asking questions.

“Honestly?” I nodded. “Lucky guess on my part since you always seem to be working.”

“You come to the movies a lot,” I noted.

“I do.”

“You never say hi,” I observed, hating the smidge of hurt in my voice.

“Yeah.” There was a hint of what seemed like regret in his eyes. “I’ve wanted to but…” His voice drifted off to nothing, and a beat of silence hung between us. One I was okay breaking.

“But what?” I asked. Without thinking, my body started to lean closer. Like two magnets that have become aware of one another, I couldn’t fight the natural pull I felt anytime I was around him.

“Blanca.” I loved the way he said my name. With his free hand, he tucked a stray hair behind my ear, and I was suddenly really grateful for having taken it down from the high bun I usually wore it in when I worked.

“There is something about you that is so damn special, different…”

“Me?” My lips twitched, and I fought from rolling my eyes. And almost like sensing it, his dark bushy brows bunched.

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