Because this is Nolan. I fell in love with him when I was about ten years old. I wrote his name in my notebooks. His sister and I planned that one day we’d be true sisters when I married him. And then I threw myself at him like the silly teenager I was, and when he moved away, I figured I’d never see him again.
Lifting her chin, she stared at her reflection once again. I can do this. It’s been many years and a lot of water under the bridge. This is just Nancy’s older brother. We’re going to do this job for Nancy and then that will be it. Her lips curved slightly as a new thought hit her. Maybe after this, it won’t be so awkward.
Her heart had pounded when he stepped into the doorway of Nancy’s office yesterday and it hit her that he was supposed to be her pretend husband. Emotions had crashed into her, each fighting for dominance. Embarrassment over her actions when she was a teenager. Longing for someone she could never have. Anger at Nancy because her friend knew how much she had loved her brother when they were younger. Even Rita’s strange delight at the situation had not seemed to penetrate.
The oven timer went off just as the front doorbell rang, jarring her into action. Shit! Not wanting to leave him waiting, she rushed to the front door and threw it open. Before he had a chance to greet her, she turned and ran back to the kitchen and yelled over her shoulder, “Come on in! I don’t want the dinner to burn!”
As she bent to pull out the barbecue chicken, she winced at her un-welcoming welcome. Placing the dish on top of the stove, she slammed the oven door shut and turned, jumping as she realized Nolan was right behind her. His eyes jumped up to her face, but for a second she could have sworn he’d been staring at her ass. Maybe I should’ve worn the dress. “Oh, you scared me. I was just thinking that I offered a very rude greeting. Actually, hello! Um… did you have any problem finding my apartment?”
A slow smile spread over his face as he reached behind his neck and squeezed. “No, it was easy to find. And don’t worry about the greeting, it was fine.”
“Okay. Um… good.”
Time seemed to stretch out between them in awkward silence. Her gaze took him in, wishing she could find something about his appearance that was not attractive. Something that would make it easy to be glad that she had not ended up with him. Perhaps a large wart on the end of his nose. But, alas, no. He was every bit as gorgeous as he had been when he was younger, only more so with added maturity. Always tall, his body had bulked out, she was sure with all the exercise he got as a SEAL. She remembered he was one of the earlier boys to begin shaving, and even now his five o’clock shadow gave his face a devil-may-care appearance. And his whiskey-colored eyes—staring straight at me!
“What would you like to drink? I have iced tea, beer, or wine.”
“Beer would be good. Whatever kind you have is fine.”
Glad to have something to do, she turned to the refrigerator and pulled out two longneck bottles. Popping off the caps, she handed both to him. “You can put these on the table, and I’ll get our dinner.” She had already set the plates and cutlery on the table and soon placed the barbecue chicken, coleslaw, and mac & cheese in front of them. Earlier, she had wondered if fixing dinner was a good plan but now was glad they had something to focus on to ease into their conversation.
Sitting at her small table, she watched as he dug into the meal, his groans of appreciation causing her to relax.
“This is delicious. You really can cook.”
“It’s not fancy, but I like homemade when I have the time.”
“It’s as good as any I’ve had at a barbeque restaurant. Hell, better than most!”
“Thank you, but I have a feeling that after some of your meals in the Navy, anything would taste good.”
He chuckled while nodding. “I’ve had some pretty bad meals, that’s for sure. And times where I was just glad we had something to eat.”
By the time they finished her homemade apple pie and he had scraped the plate on his second helping, their small talk had become easier, and they worked side-by-side washing off the plates and putting away the leftovers. Grabbing two more beers, she led him over to the sofa where she’d placed a couple of small spiral notebooks and pens on the coffee table.
Sitting on one end, she twisted her body so that her leg was tucked under her and grabbed her notebook. Seeing his wide-eyed stare, she mumbled, “I thought it would make note-taking easier if we had something already here.”
He chuckled and said, “I’m glad you’re prepared. I guess I hadn’t really thought this evening through very well.”
Tucking her hair behind her ear, she was uncertain what he meant by that. “I’m used to taking detailed notes when I meet with a client. That way, I can go back later and remember things that were said.” A slow smile stretched across his face and her heart stuttered, dreading that he still had this effect on her.
“I’ve always had a pretty good memory, but I like that you’re prepared.” He leaned forward and grabbed the other notebook and pen, twisting his body toward hers. “So, where should we start?”
She opened her notebook to the first page, embarrassed to admit that she had already jotted down a few ideas. “Well, how about
