After a brief trip to the bar, he came back and he handed her the mojito, then gestured for her to sit down. He sat next to her, stretching his long arm behind her on the bench and drawing her closer to him.
Nate didn’t like to talk too much about the old days. He did it with guys like T.J. because they expected him to and frankly that was the only thing he and T.J. had in common. The old days.
But reminiscing about what was instead of focusing on what is had never seemed wise to him.
“I think you asked about why I’m here,” he said.
“I did. I’ve always thought … well, since I started working at the club you seem the least likely to actually be happy here in Miami. Why didn’t you stay in New York or head to L.A.?”
He shrugged. He’d thought about it. But to be honest, he had been injured and unsure and he’d needed the support of his brothers around him. And frankly, they weren’t going to give up their homes to move across the country.
“It just felt right,” he said.
She laughed as she turned to look up at him. “I can’t believe you made a decision based on your gut. I mean one that would change your life.”
“Why not? When I played baseball I made gut decisions all the time.” It was one of the things he thought had made him stand out.
“I never thought about it like that.”
“Most people don’t. So that’s it. My brothers were here. I’d invested in the club so I technically had a job, at least on paper, and my sports career was over so I came home.”
“You sum it up like you are stating facts,” she said, her voice soft and pensive. “Was it really that easy or did you struggle to give up your dream?”
“My dream?”
“Baseball,” she said.
He had had a rough patch but had worked through it. “The sad thing about me, Jen, is that I realized I didn’t want to be just a baseball player.”
“What did you want to be?” she asked, moving closer to him.
He knew he could talk about himself all night with her as an audience. Most people didn’t listen well and were just waiting for a chance to talk about themselves but Jen was engaged in what he was saying. He wasn’t sure why. Did she really want to know the man he was?
“Famous,” he said. “I know, shallow, right?”
“I wanted that, too,” she admitted.
He thought she was being kind and trying to make him feel better about his rather shallow goals. Cam always said that Nate was too pretty and that had made him believe he could skate through life. But Nate ignored what his brother said. He’d worked hard to be good at baseball and he’d done it because he thought it would pay off.
In a way, it had.
“Really?” he asked.
“You think I’m joking around?”
“Of course not. But I don’t know anything about you.
I know you weren’t a baseball player. Our paths would have crossed before tonight.”
“Indeed, they would have,” she said.
“So?”
She took a deep breath and then a sip of her drink. The mojito was smooth and minty and he saw her savor it as it went down. Since she hadn’t lingered over her drink like that before, he suspected she didn’t want to talk about herself now.
“Tell me, honey. Your secret is safe with me.”
“Honey? You don’t know me well enough to call me that.”
“Jen, I will before the night is over.” “Isn’t that a little presumptuous of you?” she asked.
“No. You are just as interested in me as I am in you.”
She nodded. “I am. I hate to say it but I really do want to know the man behind the flash.”
“Good. I hope you find him to your liking,” he said.
“You’re impressing me so far,” she said.
He took another sip of his drink. The February breeze blew around them stirring a tendril at the side of her face. Each time the wind blew, the strand of hair brushed over her high cheekbones and caught on her lips.
He reached up and brushed it back, tucking it behind her ear. “There you go.”
“Thanks,” she said, but her voice was softer, huskier than it had been moments earlier.
“What did you want to be famous for doing?” he asked.
He couldn’t stop touching her skin. It was soft, maybe the softest he’d felt in a long time. The women he usually kept company with were concerned about their looks and how they appeared to others—seldom did they let him touch them except in bed when they were making love. But Jen let him touch her face.
He stroked his finger over her lower lip until she pulled back. Her lips were parted and her breath brushed across his finger.
“I can’t think when you do that,” she said.
“Then don’t think,” he replied. He tightened his arm along her shoulders and drew her closer to him. Her mojito glass brushed against his chest wet and cold.
She licked her lips and her eyes started to close as he lowered his head. He wanted this night to go on forever but he knew he couldn’t sit here on the rooftop another minute without kissing her.
She tempted him on so many levels and he wasn’t sure how to deal with a woman who had that effect on him. He wanted to pretend that it was simply the unknown and the curiosity of being with someone who seemed so natural here with him. He didn’t have the feeling she was with him because she wanted to meet his famous friends or have her picture in the papers.
And that was a heady aphrodisiac.
Jen was surprised by her reaction to Nate—a non-dancer. She shook her head reminding herself dancing wasn’t her life anymore. It still was a shock to think of her world the way it was now.
“I’m sensing you aren’t thinking about kissing me anymore.”
She pulled back, nibbling on her lower lip. The smell of hibiscus filled the air from the potted plants that were stationed near the edge of the railing.
“No—I mean yes. I was thinking about you. How different you are than the other men I’ve dated.”
“I don’t want to hear about the other men in your life,” he said, his voice sounding tight.
“Why not? I’m just your one-night girl, right?” she asked. It was imperative to her that she keep her focus here. No matter that Nate was a life-changing man for her. The first guy she’d wanted to kiss since Carlos.
He tipped his head to the side, staring over at her. “Normally, I’d say yes, but I’m jealous, honey. I don’t want to hear you talk about other men when you’re with me. I want to be the only man on your mind.”
She understood that. She was finding herself struck with an uncharacteristic shyness as they sat here alone. It was because he was so different for her … no, he wasn’t, she thought. She was the one who was different. She wanted to own this change and not let it own her.
“You are staring very fiercely at me.”
“I’m sorry. I just had an epiphany.”
He leaned in. “That you should be kissing me?”
“Actually, yes,” she said. She should be kissing him. Like Alison had said, life was short and having fun wasn’t overrated.
She