Rory didn’t know a whole lot about Nash’s home life. Nat, of course, would know the most, but she’d certainly never shared anything with Rory. Rumors were, his momma had caught his daddy cheating on her and had left them both without looking back. Though rumors in Havenbrook were usually only partially rooted in reality.
But the Big Nash she knew…well, there were more than just rumors to substantiate the claims that got passed around. He went through women faster than underwear, and she’d witnessed it enough firsthand to know it wasn’t just a rumor. Was her Nash like that, too?
She wanted to ask so many things, but she worried she’d overstep some invisible boundary she was too naïve to realize was there. Instead, she said, “I suppose he was busy workin’ to support y’all.”
Nash huffed out a laugh, though his face didn’t show any humor. “Something like that.”
Rory sensed that was as much as she was getting out of him, so she guided them to less sensitive subjects, touching briefly on a last-minute addition to her master bath she’d thought of. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d had a real, grown-up conversation at supper, save for with her sisters, and she loved every second of it.
After she’d devoured the last bite of her sandwich, she grabbed their plates from the table, shooing away his hand when he tried to take them from her. “You cooked. I’ll clean up.”
“Fair enough.”
While she made quick work of their few dishes, he uncorked the wine bottle to top off her glass before grabbing another beer from the fridge for himself.
“I didn’t interrupt your plans tonight, did I?”
“Not really. I was just gonna veg out on the couch.” She bit her lip to stop the question from tumbling out, because she didn’t know if hanging out in her living room was part of their deal or not. They had sex—alotof sex, at all hours of the day and night—but except for that first evening together, they hadn’t done anything quite so…mundane. He’d shown up here, though, had cooked her supper and asked about her day as if it’d been no big deal. She could treat this just the same. “You wanna Netflix and chill with me?”
“Why, Rory, that’s awful forward of you,” he teased.
Her brow furrowed. What was so forward about hanging out on the couch and watching TV? She hadn’t told him they’d be doing it naked. “How so?”
A slow smile spread across his face. “What do you mean by ‘Netflix and chill’?”
She rolled her eyes. “I think it’s pretty self-explanatory.”
“Humor me.”
She gestured toward her couch and TV, feeling stupid now for even asking him in the first place and wishing she could just take it back. If he didn’t want to do it, fine, but he didn’t have to balk at the suggestion. “Lounging around watchin’ Netflix.”
A low laugh rumbled out of him, and he set his beer bottle on the counter to his side, grabbed a handful of her dress, and pulled her right up against him.
He skimmed a hand under her skirt, his fingers grazing the outside of her thigh as he brushed his lips against her ear. “The only way it’d be Netflix and chillin’ is if I’m buried inside you while we watch.”
Her body relaxed under his touch, so much so that she nearly missed his words. When they finally clicked in her brain, she jerked back, pushing against his chest to look up at him. “What?”
“I’m certainly not protestin’—to either, actually. Just wanna know what I’m gettin’ into is all.”
“Oh. My. Word.Nash!” She slapped his chest like he was her cause for embarrassment, when that honor lay solely on her shoulders. Groaning, she covered her face with her hands and banged her forehead against his chest.
Laughing low, he rubbed a hand along her back. “What’s the big deal? It’s just me.”
Without lifting her head from his chest, she shook her head. “’Fraid not.”
“What—” He broke off as his body rumbled beneath her when he finally seemed to get her meaning.
“Don’t laugh! This ismortifying. Do you have any idea how many people I’ve told I was doin’ that?”
“How many?”
She simply groaned in response, too humiliated to even calculate the number. Edna, for one thing. Her momma. Her freakingdentistthe last time she’d been there for a checkup. The only thing keeping her from drowning in a pool of self-pity was the hope that maybe none of them had a clue either.
“I’m sorry,” he said through laughter.
“You are not, you liar.” She pinched his underarm, which only made him laugh harder. “It’s not funny!” Somehow, she managed to restrain herself from stomping her foot, but just barely. “How the hell was I supposed to know what it meant? Is there a class I can take for all the shit I missed out on?”
Nash’s chuckles died down then, and he pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “I’m sorry for laughin’. Sometimes you say things that remind me—” He cut himself off, but it didn’t take much to guess what he’d been about to say.
