Chapter Twenty-Six
Kenzi giggled as Nash wrapped a tie around her head as a blindfold. The silky fabric held his scent, a combination of aftershave spices and body spray and him. She breathed in the scent, memorizing it.
“Can you see?” Air caressed her cheeks as he waved his hand in front of her face.
“Not a thing.”
“Perfect.”
“Why am I doing this again?” She groped the empty space in front of her, feeling tipsy without being able to see where she was standing in relation to the furniture. She spent hours upon hours in her office and would joke that she could make her way around blindfolded. But now that she was being put to the test, she had a hard time mapping out the space in her head. Why did she suddenly think the coffee table was going to jump out and bruise her shin?
“We need an impartial judge.”
“What makes you think I’m impartial?” Her hand made contact with Nash’s side and she patted her way around his middle, up his nicely formed chest, across his rounded shoulder, and down his arm to his hand. He didn’t stop her exploration, and she enjoyed every second of it—probably a little too much. All right, a lot too much.
“You can’t help yourself when it comes to ice cream.”
She hugged his arm. Ice cream. Nash. There were a few things in this world that she couldn’t seem to help herself over, no matter how much restraint she should be showing.
The sound of men’s leather shoes on the wood floor let her know someone else was in the room, so she reined in her not-so-innocent thoughts about pressing herself against Nash and seeing how long it took for him to kiss her again. She wasn’t counting their first kiss as a real kiss. It was more of an accidental kiss—unpremeditated and not followed up with another. What would a real kiss from Nash be like? She’d spent enough time daydreaming about it to make an educated guess.
“He hasn’t been wooing you into his way of thinking, has he?” asked Charlie. His deep voice was full of concern.
“Charlie, I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Nash was all mocking innocence.
Kenzi poked him in the side. “Actually, I was surprised when this popped up on my calendar, because he hadn’t said a thing.” She poked him again. “All weekend long.” Poke.
He grabbed her hand to keep her from jabbing at him. “Charlie made me promise not to.”
“And I’m glad to see he’s a man of his word. Why don’t you sit down and we’ll get started.”
Nash pulled gently on her hand, which he still held in his. For an executive, he had strong hands. She enjoyed the feel of them encasing her own and brushed her thumb over his knuckles. Not being able to see had heightened her other senses. “Is this a scar?” She scooted forward, not trusting herself to take large steps.
“Just a little one.”
“How’d you get it?”
“I, uh, punched something.”
“Really?” In the two weeks she’d known him, she hadn’t once seen Nash come close to the level of anger it took to throw a punch. “What?”
“A guy’s face.” He spoke in her ear, like he didn’t want Charlie to hear.
“What?” Kenzi stopped inching forward. “Why?”
“Self-defense. He came at me and it was either lay him out or be pounded to a pulp.”
Kenzi started moving again. “You’re going to have to tell me the rest of that story over lunch.” She could respect that he didn’t want to talk about a bad experience right now. But she wanted to know these things about him, about his past and his life before they came together.
He didn’t answer her. Instead, he turned her around and the backs of her legs touched a chair. “Okay, have a seat.”
She felt for the edge of the chair before lowering herself all the way.
“Are you sure she can’t see?” asked Charlie.
“Double sure. I’ve been sticking my tongue out at her for ten minutes and she hasn’t said a word.”
“You have not!” Kenzi giggled and swatted at where she thought Nash was standing, but only hit air.
