Total pages in book: 108
Estimated words: 103380 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 517(@200wpm)___ 414(@250wpm)___ 345(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 103380 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 517(@200wpm)___ 414(@250wpm)___ 345(@300wpm)
“Stir-fry,” I said.
“Do you need help?”
I didn’t, but something about this tiny moment of peace had me saying, “Would you mind emptying the dishwasher?”
He nodded, and then he was pulling the dishes out and setting them on the counter. As I worked, I told him where things went. I was so distracted by the sight of him moving so comfortably around my kitchen, I lost track of the knife and let out a harsh curse when I felt the sharp blade slice into my finger.
“Fuck,” I muttered as blood began welling up from the cut. It wasn’t overly deep, but I still felt foolish for even letting it happen. Especially considering why it had happened.
“Damn,” Nathan said, and then he was grabbing my wrist and leading me to the sink. I barely noticed the cold water running over the wound as his warm fingers held onto my wrist to keep me from moving my hand.
“You have a first aid kit?” he asked. When his eyes met mine, we both stilled as electricity charged the air around us. He swallowed hard and then forced his eyes down. “If it needs stitches, you’re on your own,” he said with a nervous laugh.
But I couldn’t find it in me to laugh. I didn’t know why.
His eyes lifted to mine again, probably at my lack of response, and I watched his tongue dart out to wet his lips.
“First aid kit?” he said softly, distractedly.
“Second drawer,” I said as I motioned to the cabinet behind him. I missed his touch when he released my hand to go get the kit. He grabbed it and then he was handing me a clean dishtowel. “Put pressure on it,” he offered.
I certainly didn’t need to be told how to treat the minor injury, nor did I need him to dress it, but when he told me to sit down at the table, I did it anyway. And when he brought the second chair around to face the chair I was sitting in, I held my breath. Sure enough, when he sat, his legs shifted until one was between my legs. I barely heard anything he said as he carefully cleaned and dressed the wound, which wasn’t bad enough to warrant a stitch. It barely needed a Band-Aid, but something about him fussing over me was fucking with my head, and I found myself reluctant to tell him just to leave it alone.
“Feel okay?” he asked when he finished putting the bandage in place.
“Yeah,” I said quietly.
Nathan was still holding onto my hand, even though he was finished, and I found myself reluctant to pull free of his hold. He was the one to move first, and I suspected that was because he was starting to feel the same charged energy surrounding us.
“I’ll clean this up,” he said as he stood and then motioned to the small pile of vegetables. My senses cleared once he was out of my immediate reach, and I quickly closed up the first aid kit and returned it to the drawer while Nathan threw out the ruined vegetables and began washing the knife and cutting board. I’d cut enough vegetables that I could get started on the cooking and I did my best to ignore Nathan, even though his body was just inches from mine.
It was strangely comforting to be working side by side with him. I was most definitely in lust with him, but even with the desire simmering between us like a live wire, I still found myself watching his movements as he cleaned the dishes and then began wiping down the sink. He kept casting me glances, but didn’t say anything.
“You mind getting me the beef from the fridge?” I asked. Nathan nodded, and then he was moving to the refrigerator. I watched his eyes settle on the door for a moment and I knew what he was thinking. I was thinking it myself. How good it had been last night. I wondered if he was also thinking about how good it could be again. He cast me a glance over his shoulder, and I barely managed to hide my smile at the flush of color that stained his cheeks. When he returned to my side and handed me the bowl full of sliced beef, I had to remind myself why it would be a bad idea to let the bowl hit the floor and reach for him instead.
“Thanks.”
“Should I set the table?”
The idea of being that close to him again had me shaking my head. If we ate at the table, he likely would end up bent over it this time around. But before I could suggest that we eat in the living room, which had enough furniture to ensure we didn’t end up anywhere near one another, my watch vibrated and I heard my phone beep. I glanced at my watch and recognized the code immediately.