Page 37 of A Little More

The door opened. Nash stepped onto the porch. His shirtless torso drew her gaze from the dreamhouse to the dream man and didn’t let go. Her fingers tightened on the soup container.

“Why are you here? I told Mom to keep you down at her house until tomorrow.”

His question broke her stare. He looked tired. Sweatpants hung low on his hips even though it was over eighty degrees. Dark stubble coated his chin and cheeks.

“Lexi?”

She took a step, her sandal catching on a rock. She stumbled forward, keeping the soup somewhat level. That made a great impression. Nash still hadn’t moved from the porch, but his eyebrows were raised.

“I’m sick. You don’t need to be here.”

She held up the container. “Your mom sent me with soup.” His broad shoulders were thick with muscle, but not overly bulging like he lifted weights all the time. The same with his chest and stomach. Nothing like the cover of a magazine or a male model. Those men weren’t her type. Up to this point in her thirty-four years, she’d never really considered herself having atype. But Nash may have helped her discover what turned her on in a man.

God, he just looked so strong. All over. Lexi was tall, nothing like the petite women she’d seen around his hometown. She’d never experienced the rush of feeling feminine and protected next to a man.

Such a cliché. Her feminist personality revolting at the thought. Protected from what? Mountain lions?

That point didn’t seem to matter as she climbed the stairs of his porch to stand in front of him. He stood his ground, like a guard. Like a dominant, sexy guard that she wanted to provoke to see what he might do to her.

She blinked a few times to clear her head of the image.

“Thanks for bringing the soup, but I don’t want you to catch this.” He yawned and rubbed his face. “Besides, I think I’m about to crash back on the sofa.”

She leaned to the side, trying to peer into his home. It was terrible that she wanted him to let her take a tour. He was sick, anyone could see it. She should leave.

“You’re trying to see into my house.”

She straightened. “No, I’m not. Your mom sent a blanket. Do you need one?”

“No.” He turned and motioned her with his hand to follow. “Squinting in the sun is giving me a headache. You already asked to see inside.”

“Nash, I do want to see your house, but really, I can leave.”

He paused and opened the door for her. “If you’re willing to risk your health, I’m not ready to see you leave yet.” He reminded her of a little boy pouting for not getting candy when she stopped in front of him. “As much as it pains me to say it, you shouldn’t get close to me.”

She probably shouldn’t touch him now. Not out of fear of getting sick. She could handle a cold or the flu. She couldn’t risk losing all rational thought and forgetting their situation. Her situation. The back and forth in her mind on the ride down had ended with her accepting that she couldn’t get away from Nash. She didn’t want to hide away from her attraction.

She wanted to run to him, like the first time she stepped onto the beach in the summer and wanted to run straight into the ocean, ignoring all logical reasons she shouldn’t.

“I thought about what you said, about reassigning this to another architect.” She caught her lip between her teeth. Her speech sounded better in the car. Sexy even. Now, she sounded scared and unsure and hated it. “There’s no one else I trust to make your vision come to life.” She took a steadying breath. Her decision to date Nash or avoid him had switched back and forth like she was picking flowers and playinghe loves me, he loves me notsince their last meeting. But she wouldn’t change her mind again. Juliana had helped push her.

“So, you’re stuck with me.”

“You remember what I said?” It sounded like a threat. Or warning. Either way, she knew what she wanted.

She nodded.

His blue eyes darkened, erasing some of the exhaustion she’d seen from his illness. “Does that mean I need to back off?”

More like he needed to tell her she was out of her mind for agreeing to this. “I don’t know how this will work.” She tilted her head back, taking a step closer to him. “I don’t know how to do this with you. Dating in secret sounds impossible.” And exhilarating.

He took up her vision with his broad chest and amazing shoulders as he came closer. “Just give me a little more. I’ll handle the rest.” As if they had a mind of their own, her fingers skimmed along his waist. Even sick, his determination to take care of her never wavered. He sucked in his breath when her hands ran up his back to grip his shoulders. Seriously. They were the kind of shoulders that were built to hold onto.

“Please,” he began, his voice huskier than usual. He ran his free hand over her hair. “Don’t change your mind before I get better.”

Asking him to remain shirtless between now and then seemed a little unhinged, so she settled for a nod, taking in his beefy body one last time. With a disappointed sigh, she filed the mental image for later and leaned to the side to peer into the open door of his house.

“Now that we’ve got that settled.” She stepped into his house. “Time to let me snoop around your house while you eat your mom’s soup.”

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