Page 48 of The Write Track
He laughed and shook his head. “No, I do not. I want Preston to think we’re doing something, though.”
He plopped down next to me on the couch and slid his arm around my shoulders. “Show me something good,” he ordered.
I was thrown. “Like what?” Did he expect me to get naked or something? Was this the part where I was going to see the “real” Nathan?
He seemed to grasp what I was worried about. “Knock that off,” he warned. “I’m not making a move on you. I figured we could watch some funny videos to amuse ourselves.”
That was surprising. “Seriously?” Suspicion lingered as I gave him the side-eye. “What kind of videos?”
“Porn, of course,” he teased, shaking his head. “I like funny cat videos.”
“Do you have a cat?”
“No, but I would like one someday. I also like videos of kids who swear. I don’t have kids either, for the record.”
“But one day?” I prodded.
The question seemed to stymie him. “I think I would like a kid,” he said finally, struggling through the words. “I want to be a better father than I had. It’s not something I think on too often, though.”
“I want to be exactly like my mom.”
“Yeah, neither of us had much luck with fathers, huh?”
“It sounds like yours is still around.”
“Kind of. He actually wants to come for a visit.”
“How come you don’t sound happy about that?” I was honestly curious.
“Because he’s critical. I don’t think he actually wants to be critical or even realizes he’s doing it. He is, though, and I’ve stopped caring about trying to get him to approve of my life choices.”
“I’m sorry he’s that way. I know how that is.” I thought of Preston and scowled. “Just for the record, you seem pretty great. I heard horror stories when I first moved to Savannah—people warning me that you went through women like tissue paper—but you don’t seem so bad to me.”
His grin was impish. “I could hit on you if you want to hate me.”
“I’m fine with how things are.” I pulled out my phone. “I happen to like videos of swearing kids too. Let’s find some good ones.”
He settled in at my side. “That sounds like a plan to me.”
TWO HOURS LATER, I’D FRESHENEDUPand was ready for dinner.
“What do you think he’s having catered?” Nathan asked. He was in his same khaki shorts and polo shirt from before, but he’d messed up his hair.
“What’s up with that?” I pointed.
“I want him to think somebody has been running their fingers through it.”
“Oh.” I didn’t think about it long. “You’re good at this.”
“I just have a diabolical mind. I’m serious about the food, though. He seems like the type of guy who would try to cater sushi in the woods.”
I made a face. “He loves sushi.”
“You don’t?”
“It’s raw fish. It’s not food.”
His grin told me he agreed, then he faltered. “Wait… you don’t think he would try to cater sushi out here to prove what a big man he isandmake you unhappy at the same time, do you?”
