Page 56 of A Lonely Road
“Oh, yeah,” he replied, brushing his knuckles along my cheekbone.
I knew perfectly well that he would never, not for anything in the world, rush me into saying something I wasn’t ready for—but it seemed that the way my expression softened with a breathy little sigh was answer enough for him.
“Well then,” I murmured. As I covered his hand with my own, I gave in to a spark of mischief and smirked. “I just dare you to tell him that when he gets here.”
The touch of his lips to mine soothed my sudden flare of nerves, but when he deepened the kiss, I nearly forgot all about my father. Eventually, Jake drew back, brushing his nose along mine beforeflashing a smile.
“Maybe I will. I’d walk through fire for you, Nora—I’m perfectly willing to face your father, no matter how scary he might be.”
I thought he might regret that statement by the time he finally met the man, but when he slipped his hands under the hem of my shirt to slide up either side of my ribcage, I decided to put off worrying about it until another day.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Jake
Tomysurprise,Noraresigned herself pretty quickly to her father’s impending visit, though she did force me to endure half a dozen one-sided debates about whether she should spend her nights at the apartment while her father was in town instead of snug in my bed. I let her carry out both sides of the argument, choosing instead to bide my time until she was ready for a distraction.
I’d be damned if I would let her scurry away from me just because she didn’t want her father to recognize that she was an adult woman with adult needs.
The night before her father’s arrival, I caught her chin in my hand and stared deep into those big brown eyes. “Nora, honey, everything is going to be fine. If he hates my guts, I’ll let youhold me while I cry my eyes out, but I’ll survive, because he’s not the one I’m in love with. You are.”
Though she hadn’t quite come out and said it back, I got a thrill from seeing how she responded to me speaking the words aloud, like she was softening under the warmth of my love for her. Instead of avoiding it for fear of scaring her off, I found that the more I said it, the more she melted.
This time, she slumped against my chest, pressing her lips to my throat as her arms wrapped tightly around my waist. I grinned when she shifted to peek up at me.
“You did that on purpose,” she accused, but her eyes were alight with pleasure.
“Did I?” I asked, trailing my lips along her hairline. “I’ll say it as many times as you need, as many times as you’ll let me. I’m head over heels in love with you, Nora.”
With no small effort, I convinced her to stop worrying. Bolstered by a full night’s sleep—in my bed, since she’d finally accepted that self-consciousness couldn’t lure her away from our current routine—she seemed much more optimistic about introducing me to her father. After a brief phone call the night before, we made plans to meet him for lunch at The Mermaid.
Little by little, most of her small wardrobe had ended up at my house. While she debated what to wear, I tried one final time to imagine how this particular meeting was going to go. Nora told me the last partner she’d introduced to her father had been her date for senior prom, and Captain John Cassidy hadscared the poor kid into barely touching her the entire night, even when she’d begged him to dance with her.
Fortunately, I didn’t scare quite so easily. In fact, after the hurdles I’d already vaulted over, I was hard-pressed to imagine so much as batting an eye at her father, no matter how imposing he might be. Then again, her father had decades more experience than she did in frightening people away.
I was still mulling that over when I walked into the bedroom, just as Nora pulled on jeans and then a dark blue blouse.
“You, my darling, look beautiful,” I said, pausing to kiss the side of her neck.
Nora sighed softly and turned to look at me. I wore my usual bartending attire, hopefully looking clean-cut and respectable. A father’s dream for his only child’s partner, Nora had joked, but her father clearly wasn’t like most others.
She smoothed her hands over my chest in approval and said dryly, “You look wonderful. If I dress up any more than this, he’ll be expecting us to announce an engagement.”
I smirked but said nothing further, simply took her hand and led her out to the truck. Despite my assurances to the contrary, Iwasnervous about meeting her father. I just didn’t want to add to her own anxiety about it.
When I saw her hands clenching and flexing on her lap, I laid my own on the seat between us, palm up.
“Give me your hand.”
She blinked at me in surprise, but she placed her hand in mine without a word. Instead of holding it, as I'd done so manytimes before, I pressed my thumb into the center of her palm and massaged it gently. All of those tiny muscles inside began to loosen, little by little, easing under the warm press of my thumb.
“What are you doing?” she asked finally.
“Whenever you’re nervous or stressed, you fist your hands and open them, over and over. I thought this might help you relax a little.”
Nora’s breath caught on a quick inhale, then left her lungs on a sigh. “It does help.”
Though neither of us said it aloud, the misty expression on her face told me that those little acts of thoughtfulness, of kindness and love, also helped. I flashed her a grin and continued rubbing my way across the muscles of her hand until we pulled into the parking lot at The Mermaid.
