Nick
Good point. Not that he should be doing that, anyway.
Tina
*eye-roll emoji *
Nick
What about Rhett? He manages the gym, and I think he worked at a fast-food restaurant when he was a teenager.
Tina
I suppose that could work.
“This is what youdragged me out here for?”
Nick lowers his binoculars and grins. “Yeah, isn’t it awesome?” He’s wearing tiny shorts again, bright orange ones this time, but today he’s paired it with the official turquoise shirt of our local bird watching group, the Tit Peepers.
After arranging for Rhett to come work at Wings and Pizza for the evening, it appears Nick was busy planning the strangest outing I’ve ever been on. As soon as I’d delivered the food, he handed me an orange visor and hustled me onto the Spring Chickens’ bus. The dirty look Stephen gave me as I walked up the steps added a little pep to my step. Pep that quickly waned as I realized what exactly Nick had in mind for a last day of catering celebration.
“You know, in my five years of living here, I have never been bird watching,” I say, trying to muster up a little enthusiasm. When I was looking for a place to settle to open my restaurant, I chose Tuft Swallow because I liked the name. An interest in bird watching played no part in my choice.
“Me neither,” he calls out, raising his binoculars and looking off into the woods. “I should have done this sooner. It’s nice to be outside enjoying the scenery. Usually if I’m outside, it’s because I’m out for a run. I didn’t realize how much I liked nature.” He turns to grin at me, gesturing to his chest with one hand. “Plus, I look amazing in turquoise.”
I chuckle and shake my head as he turns back to look through his binoculars. He’s right about it being nice to be outside. I walk wherever I need to go, and I’m on my feet all day, so I get plenty of exercise, but there’s something to be said for actually being in the great outdoors in order to experience it, rather than pass through it as quickly as possible. It’s peaceful.
The birdwatching, on the other hand,thatI could probably do without. I wouldn’t know a Blue Jay from a Blue-Footed Booby if one flew by and shat on my head. I’m pretty sure the only bird I could identify on sight is the one on the box of the fruity cereal I used to eat when I was a kid. And even then, I’d need the box for reference to be sure.
An icy breeze blows past me, and I pull my hood up before shoving my hands into my pockets. If I’d known we’d be walking outside near sunset, I would have dressed much warmer. No wonder the Tit Peepers wear bespoke turquoise windbreakers when they’re out at this time of the year. I could use a windproof layer to stop the cool air from blowing right through my sweater.
Looking at Nick, though, you’d never even guess that it was cold out. The man is out here dressed for a hot summer day in what must be his shortest shorts, and a t-shirt that’s at least two sizes too small. I guess the Tit Peepers didn’t take a man of Nick’s size into account when they ordered shirts for their club. Not that I mind. He makes for a much nicer view than any bird out here.
I’m lost in my head, admiring the flex of his thighs, recalling the way he moved underneath me in bed and how it felt to be lifted like that when he was buried inside me, when Miss Martha clears her throat behind me, causing me to jump several inches in the air. I land awkwardly, rolling my ankle and smashing to the trail flat on my ass.
“Ouch, that must’ve hurt,” she says, a small smile playing at her bright pink painted lips. “I suppose that’s bound to happen when you’re too busy staring at a half-naked hunk to notice what’s going on around you. I’ve been trying to get your attention for three whole minutes.”
Groaning, I roll to a sitting position and rub my ankle. It’s a little sore, but not terrible, so I get to my feet before Nick can notice I’m down. I’m not sure why, but I sense that if he saw what had happened, he’d be throwing me over his shoulder and marching my ass home to rest. And as much as I’d like the throwing me over his shoulder part, I don’t think I’m ready for the celebrating part of the day to be over. I enjoy spending time with him. Which is weird. Because whatever else this little foray into birdwatching might be, it feels unmistakably date-like.
I dust the dirt and leaves from my ass and turn to Miss Martha. “I’m sorry, Miss Martha. What was it you wanted?”
The older woman scoffs and waves a hand. “It’s too late now. I wanted you to confirm my identification of what I thought was a Lesser Tufted Kink, but he flew away while you were undressing Nick with your eyes.” She chuckles. “You know, if you wait around a little while, he’ll take that shirt off. Nick almost never wears a shirt. He begged us to give him that one when he asked if you two could join us tonight.”
“It looks like it was made for a kid,” I say with a laugh. “How’d he manage to get it on?”
Miss Martha shrugs, her windbreaker swishing with the movement. “He got it over his head and arms, then forced itdown the rest of the way. I doubt he’ll get it back off so easily. Come to think of it, you’ll need to cut him out of it later. Lucky you.” She waggles her thin, sharply arched eyebrows.
The heat rises in my cheeks. She’s right. I am lucky.
Even though he’s frequently shirtless, when we’re alone, it seems more personal somehow. It’s strange. It’s the same skin, the same chiseled chest, the same slightly soft stomach, and the same muscular arms as when he’s shirtless at the gym or out in public, but when it’s just the two of us, it’s so much…more.
“If I had a man like that between my thighs, I’d never let him out of my bed,” Miss Martha whispers. “He looks like he knows what he’s doing.”
A pulse of warmth hits my lower belly, and a throb at that apex of my thighs catches me off guard.Is that all it takes, Tina? Come on. Get it together.I force myself to smile casually. “I wouldn’t know,” I lie.
Miss Martha cocks an eyebrow and leans in close. “Are you sure that’s the answer you’re going with? I’ve seen the way you look at him, and more importantly, I’ve seen the way he looks at you. Like he’s devoured you before, and he’s counting the seconds until he gets to do it again.”
Just then, Nick turns to me and smiles, his grin crooked as he takes in the sight of Miss Martha whispering in my ear. He lowers his binoculars to his chest, letting the strap keep them around his neck, and walks over to join us. “When I see two beautiful women with their heads together, I know something interesting must be going on. Care to let me in on the secret?”
