Total pages in book: 29
Estimated words: 27617 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 138(@200wpm)___ 110(@250wpm)___ 92(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 27617 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 138(@200wpm)___ 110(@250wpm)___ 92(@300wpm)
Twelve
Kayla
“Is everything okay?” Nathan had ushered us out of the office before I could ask any questions. And believe me, I tried to ask questions, but he continued to cut me off and rush me out. It makes me think something might be wrong.
“The storm is coming. I want to beat it.”
He’d said that the storm wasn’t coming until next week. That he needed to go up there to drop some things off and to make sure everything was good to go for his stay when he came back. It was only supposed to be a day trip. He might be talking about another storm. Maybe that’s what has him so scatterbrained. A word I never thought I would use to describe Nathan.
I should enjoy this alone time with him. I know I’m going to miss him when the break hits. Christmas was looking extra lonely this year. I thought that was what I wanted. Now not so much. I want to be with Nathan, but I’m not supposed to be with him. It makes my insides ache.
“Won’t you get caught in the storm later?” I look up and out the window thinking we might get caught in it right now. I really want to see his cabin. The place sounds like a wonderland. I bet it is breathtaking when covered in snow. A small part of me had wanted him to offer for me to spend the holidays up there with him when I told him I didn't have any plans. Well, except for the ones with my Kindle. It was a terrible thing to want, knowing we aren't supposed to be crossing this line.
“It will be okay.” He rests his hand on my thigh. I stare down at his big hand that’s spread out across my thigh. It’s warm and heavier than I thought it would be. Nathan really is a big man. I wet my bottom lip, knowing I’m getting turned on. I’m not sure if it’s because of where his hand is or merely that he’s touching me. I didn't know hands could be sexy, but that is Nathan. He discovers the unknown.
“What is the fetish where people are attracted to feet called?” I ask. I know that’s a thing. There might be one for hands too. If that’s so I might be one of those people.
“Podophilia.” He glances over at me. “Is that something you’re interested in?”
“You want to show me your feet, Nathan?” I say through a laugh.
“If you would like.”
I laugh harder. “I’m sure your feet are lovely, but I’m in no rush to see them.” I was in a rush to see other parts of him though. “Is there one for hands?” Nathan actually looks like he’s thinking for a moment.
“Cheirophilia.”
“You really do know everything.” I watch out the window as snow starts to fall. Okay, he might not know everything. The snow is already coming down hard. What if we get stuck out at his cabin together? I don’t know if that would be terrible or wonderful. I’m still not sure if there can be a Nathan and me with all of the department rules. The only real loophole is to get married, and I’m guessing Nathan isn't going to marry me so we can actually date.
It would be hard to keep my hands off him. Not only would we be trapped together all alone but in a cabin while snow falls with a fire in the fireplace. That’s a romantic dream come to life.
“Is it too hot in here?” Nathan turns the heat down in the car. “Your cheeks are flushing.” I reach up and touch them. I think that blush is because my mind was starting to drift to Nathan kissing me on the couch in front of the fireplace.
“I’m fine.” I drop my hand from my face. It lands on Nathan’s. Before I can pull it back, he’s tangling our fingers together. “I’m not sure we’re supposed to be doing this.” I give his hand a squeeze. “I could get fired.”
“If they fire you, I’ll quit.” I shake my head. “I’m sure there is a loophole. I’ll read over the rules in the handbook. It will be okay. It has to be.” He squeezes my hand. That’s the second time he’s had to reassure me everything will be okay. On two things I’m pretty sure he might be wrong about. A first for Nathan.
I reach for the radio and find a station that’s playing Christmas music. I sing along with the music. “Am I annoying you?” I start to reach for the volume to turn it down. He stops me.
“I enjoy hearing you sing.”
“Now I know you're trying to be nice. I’m a terrible singer. So much so I played an instrument in high school so I didn't have to do choir. It was one or the other.”