I put my hand out. “Give me your phone.”
“What? So you can hack into my accounts and sabotage me?” Nathan says.
“No, idiot. So I can take a photo of you and Ballantine together. The women who follow you must be missing your face.”
Nathan passes me his phone hesitantly, which makes me roll my eyes. I move around, taking a couple shots of him and Ballantine, and then one of his face in profile with his hat tipped back. He’s got more five o’clock shadow than normal, and his chestnut hair is peeking out around the brim, a lock of it falling into his eyes. Not for the first time, I curse the fact that the devil is so damn handsome.
“Here,” I say, giving him the phone back. “Those will keep your rabid fans happy.”
Nathan sighs, sounding genuinely annoyed for a moment. “I don’t have rabid fans, Candice.”
“Well, they’ve been commenting on every post I make, asking what you’re up to. They even think the two of us might be a thing,” I say.
Nathan’s head whips up and he looks me dead in the eyes. “What?”
“Well, I tagged you in a few posts, and credited you with the photos you took of me the other day. I guess it just looks a certain way…” I trail off, unsure what the dark look on his face means. “Is that a problem?”
“No, Viper, not a problem at all.”
“So why do you look so…so…mad?” I ask. “Is it that bad? That people think we’re together?”
This has Nathan tipping his head back and laughing, which nearly sends his hat flying.
“I keep forgetting,” he says, after he’s done laughing.
“What?” I snap. “What do you keep forgetting?”
“I keep forgetting that you’re so inexperienced. That you have no idea what it looks like when a man is barely reining himself in around you.”
My whole body flushes at Nathan’s words. “I’m not inexperienced. I’m not—I’m not a virgin,” I manage to say.
“I didn’t mean to offend,” Nathan says sincerely. “But you told me a man had never made you feel good before.”
“Well, yeah, because Ralph doesn’t know what he’s doing and I get nervous,” I say.
“And like I said before, that’s a damn shame,” Nathan tells me.
He takes a step towards me, and reaches out and tucks a stray piece of hair behind my ear. Just like before, I can’t help but want to lean into his warmth.
“You deserve to feel good,” he says softly. “You deserve someone who cares enough to pleasure you.”
A shiver goes through me at hearing the word pleasure come from Nathan’s lips.
“What did you mean about not being able to rein yourself in?” I ask, almost afraid to hear the answer.
Nathan looks pained now, like he’s forcing himself to hold the words in. The hand on my cheek stills, and the wind whips around us.
“Tell me,” I demand.
“I meant,” he says, “that every damn time I see you I have to force myself to look away. I meant that you’re so beautiful it fucking kills me—sears me right to my core. And I think it’sterrible that a woman like you, wild and confident and free, hasn’t found a man to love her right. The way she deserves.”
As I absorb Nathan’s words and their meaning, heat fills me, banishing the Montana chill. Nathan Booth wants me. Nathan Booth thinks I’m beautiful. Nathan Booth thinks I’m wild and confident and free. It all sounds too crazy to be real.
“You’re lying,” I say.
“Am I?” he asks. “Is this a lie?” He strokes his hand down my cheek, and then onto my jaw. “Is this?” He tips my face up gently with his hand, and then leans in, his lips hovering above mine. “Tell me, Candice. Does it look like I’m lying, now?”
I shake my head.
