When I'm With You

At this point, I wasn’t sure when they would stop, but Nate was determined to make a point and I was loving every second of it. Which is why I decided to pass them out at nursing homes. Seeing the look on some of the elderly patients was the best feeling in the world, but hearing that I was the only one who had visited the vast majority of them in years solidified my decision to share Nate’s love. Of course, I planned to talk to him tonight when he came over for dinner now that I had given the majority of them away. I probably would have kept each one, but after almost breaking my neck on one of them earlier, I realized that I couldn’t keep the overwhelming amount I had.

I hear his truck pull into my driveway right when I pulled dinner out of the oven, and I felt giddy with happiness that he was here. I continue getting dinner ready as I dish out the lasagna onto our plates and the sounds of him greeting Bam reach my ears.

Just when I had put them down on the table, I feel him.

His arms go around my middle and his mouth presses against my exposed neck, making me shiver. I straighten and wrap my arms over his as he continues to kiss up my neck until he has his lips at my ear. “You smell good enough to eat.”

“I think that’s dinner,” I joke.

“No, definitely not dinner,” he rumbles and presses his erection against my back. “I love food, but food doesn’t make me hard.”

“You’re a man. Food is like number one on the makes you hard list.”

“Not true,” he groans when I push against him. “You’re number one through fifty on that list.”

“And what’s fifty-one?”

“Probably porn, but I haven’t tested that since I haven’t watched a single one in weeks.”

I throw my head back against his shoulder and laugh.

“Damn, it’s good to have you in my arms.”

Still laughing, I turn to look up into his eyes with a smile. “You’ve been in my bed every night. Me in your arms. You’re good for my ego when you act like you haven’t seen me in years.”

His lips are smiling as he gives me a brief kiss—one that had dinner not been ready, I’m sure we would have gotten lost in—before resting his forehead against mine.

“Hi,” he whispers.

“Hi.” I sigh.

“Thanks for making me lasagna. I’ve been craving that for days.”

I shrug as if it’s no big deal. The last thing I’m going to admit is that I hate cooking the dish and only did it for him. Hell, no. Not when he’s looking at me like I’m the answer to his prayers.

“Come on; let me let you feed your man before I forget about dinner and demand dessert first.”

He has to turn and literally push me into my seat after that comment because the thought alone is enough to make me want to forget all about dinner myself.

“Are you ready for your show next weekend?” he asks a little while later, after he’s devoured his third huge plate of lasagna.

“As ready as I’ll ever be, I guess. I’m nervous, but Annabelle seems confident that I shouldn’t be.”

“It’s normal to be nervous, Em. This is your first solo show? Right?”

I finish swallowing my bite before wiping my mouth. “Kind of. I had one when I had just finished school, but it wasn’t this big. Things kind of got a little crazy when Annabelle discovered me. She’s featured my paintings for the last two years, and they sell within an hour of going on display, so I know I shouldn’t be worried, but it’s a lot different when you’re the only artist on display. More pressure somehow, I guess.”

“She’s the one?”