Page 55 of The Lyrics of Love

Jerry placed his hand on her shoulder and squeezed it encouragingly. “I like that man, Rylie. He’s good people.”

Her cell rang and she pulled it from her pocket. Seeing it was Nash made her heart do a cartwheel.

“Excuse me.” She walked a few feet away and entered the back of the store where extra antiques were stored before answering. “Hi.”

“Hi, yourself,” Nash said. “What time do you close on Saturdays?”

“Five.”

“Well, it’s almost four-thirty now—and I’m sitting out front. I’ll wait until five, and then I’m marching in and collecting you.”

“I suppose I could have Jerry close up. That way, I could come join you now.”

“You are a very clever woman, Boss. Do that.”

“I’ll be right out.”

She went up to her office and claimed her purse before coming downstairs. “Mind closing up for me?”

“Only if that was Prince Charming on the phone,” Jerry told her, grinning from ear to ear.

“Close enough. Thanks, Jerry.”

Rylie left Antiques and Mystiques and saw Nash’s truck directly in front of the store. He climbed out the moment he saw her and came toward her, greeting her with a light kiss on the lips, then escorting her to the passenger side and helping her into his truck.

Once he got inside the truck, he said, “You are going to be so impressed. I had my lesson with Carter this afternoon and made dinner for us. Want to know what we’re having?”

She guessed a few entrees, but Nash shook his head each time.

“Nope. We’ll start with chicken tortilla soup, which is probably a meal in itself. It’s delicious. I’m stoked at how well it turned out. Then we’ll have shrimp enchiladas as our entrée. Of course, Carter and I didn’t work on any sides. And I don’t have a dessert.” He glanced at her, heat in his eyes, then back at the road. “But I think you’ll do as dessert.”

Now, heat filled her. She had never had a man look at her the way Nash did, much less have one who made her feel all the incredible physical and emotional things she experienced when he made love to her.

“I can’t wait to taste your food.”

By now, they had already arrived at his house. He turned into the drive and went the length of it before cutting the engine. Turning to her, he cupped her nape and pulled her toward him for a long, slow kiss.

He broke it. “I wanted to do that the minute you got in my truck. I want you to understand that I was eager to do so—and why I didn’t act upon it.”

His words confused her.

“I want you every time I see you, Rylie. But I want what passes between us to stay private for as long as possible,” he explained. “Every person has a cell phone these days, and it’s incredibly easy to whip it out and shoot a few pictures or even take video. People know I’m in town. They know what I look like. They saw us together at the diner. Some of them have even discovered that this is my truck. I can never know exactly who is watching us when we’re in public.”

“I get it,” she told him.

“It doesn’t mean I won’t kiss you in public or put my arm around you. I want people to know you’re my girl. But I don’t want others to capitalize on our relationship. Yes, it will get out. Pictures will appear in People. Online at TMZ. A hundred different places. But while I don’t mind the public knowing that we’re together, I do mind if they try to invade incredibly private moments. In order to keep private things private—like a long, delicious kiss that makes your toes curl—those kinds of things have to occur behind closed doors.”

“I understand. And I agree with you. What is between us should be for us and us alone.”

He grinned that lopsided grin that made her heart and head spin. “Then I guess you won’t mind being photographed as we push a grocery cart or put gas in the tank. Or drink a coffee or lick an ice cream cone. Those are the kinds of pictures, ones of everyday life, that the paparazzi go nuts over. People like seeing those who are famous doing mundane things such as taking out the trash or coming out of Target carrying those red and white bags. Maybe it makes them feel more connected. Regardless, I’m in the Cove. People know I’m in the Cove. And all kinds of pictures will be coming out. I simply want you to be prepared.”

Nash leaned in and kissed her again, making Rylie want to peel off his clothes and hers.

“We’d better go inside,” he told her. “I’ve been captured by long-lens cameras before.”

He came and opened her door, asking, “Make any good sales today?”

“Two good ones from the stuff we picked up at the estate sale yesterday. Remember that slant-lid desk?”

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