“Nate,” I whisper, and once again before I engage my brain, I say, “I think I’ve bitten off more than I can chew.”
“I’d prefer it if there wasn’t any biting or chewing,” he teases in a soft voice, his eyes a raging firestorm of want and desire as they roam over my face. “At least on your part.”
The words, “I’m not that experienced,” leap from my mouth. I don’t bother telling him that “not that experienced” means I’ve only been intimate with one guy who knew as much about sex as I did.
The muscles in his jaw tense, and his entire body stiffens. His hand falls from my face as I mentally kick myself for opening my stupid mouth.
“Maybe this isn’t a great idea,” he murmurs. A quick pause and then, “I don’t want—”
The back door bangs open. Nate jerks away as someone comes rushing in, a new set of footsteps on the kitchen floor. We both turn as Jason, wearing one of Gram’s toques, comes crashing in like a damn bull.
“Someone egged the house,” he says, breaking the intimacy and what might have been had I not opened my mouth.
In the end, though, maybe it was for the best. I’ve never had a hookup in my life, and I definitely shouldn’t start with a guy like Nate.
I don’t think.
Chapter Eight
Nate
“What the hell?” Nate says, as Jason’s attention bobs from me to Kira and back to me again. He’s probably trying to decide if he walked in on something.
He waves a finger back and forth between us. “Wait, were you two—”
“I was showing Kira how to make spaghetti sauce. She doesn’t cook much,” I say, downplaying what actually transpired right here in the kitchen in front of a hot stove, as I step farther away from her. “Are you sure it was eggs?” I ask, a ploy to switch gears in his brain.
He blinks, and nods. “Yeah, man. There are shells all over the ground.”
Kira touches my arm to get my attention, and I jump like I’d been tasered. Her head rears back at my overreaction, but her touch… Fuck, man, her touch goes straight to my dick, and makes coherent thought near impossible. She pulls her hands away fast, and I get it, I’m a total douche bag. I started this, now I’m trying to hide the fact that I nearly took her to my bed, and that hurt look on her face is like a punch to the gut. Yeah, she deserves way better than that.
“I…that must be the noise I heard earlier,” she says.
“Right,” I say. “What time did you hear it?”
“Around three. I looked at the clock. I thought it might have been one of you guys home early, even though I didn’t see a car in the driveway.”
I nod. “What I don’t get is why anyone would want to egg Gram’s house? Everyone loved her, right?”
Jason cracks his knuckles. “Whoever did it is going to have some explaining to do. To my fist.”
“Show me,” I say, and slip my boots on at the back door. I follow him outside, walking around the shells on the ground to glance up to Kira’s bedroom window where sticky, half-frozen egg coats the glass.
Kira comes out, too, hugging herself as the cold air sweeps over us. She begins to pick up the shells. “Leave them,” I say. “Go on back inside, Kira. It’s cold out here. Jason and I will clean this up.”
From the side of the driveaway, Sam’s car, with its ridiculously loud muffler, pulls in. His door slams, and he comes around back. When he sees us all standing there he says, “Christ, gas just went up again. I think the pumps should come with porn clips, so you’re not the only one getting fucked while filling up.” Jason laughs, and Kira’s eyes go wide. As if realizing we’re all standing around outside in the cold, some of us underdressed, Sam’s eyes narrow, and he says, “What’s going on?”
“Someone egged the house,” I say.
“What the fuck? Who would do that?” Sam takes off his ball cap, scrubs his hand through his mess of dark hair, then readjusts the cap on his head.
“No clue,” I say.
“Maybe it’s someone who doesn’t want me here,” Kira says quietly. She points up. “It looks like they specifically aimed for my bedroom.” She shivers, but I get the sense it’s not from the cold.
“Who wouldn’t want you in town?” I ask. “Did you make enemies here when you were young?”
She goes quiet and glances down in thought. “I don’t think so. I was home alone when this happened, though. I don’t even think I even had the door locked.”
“No one locks the doors around here when they’re home,” Jason says. “Even when they’re not home.”
Off in the distance mooing reaches our ears.
“Looks like your girl heard your voice,” Cody says, coming around the corner. He goes still when he sees us all. “What’s going on?” I point upward to the window and he follows my gaze. “Shit man. Who did that?”
“I’ll go see Bridgette in a bit. Let’s get this cleaned up first. Jason can you grab the ladder from the shed.” I cast a glance Kira’s way. “Would you mind filling a bucket with warm soapy water, and I think there’s a sponge under the sink.”
“I’ll help her,” Sam says.
Kira and Sam disappear inside, and when Jason goes for the ladder, I glance at Cody. “Any clue?”
“Nope.” He shoves his hands in his pockets and kicks some of the shells into the surrounding woods. They’ll decompose so I’m not too concerned about them.
“Maybe they had no idea it was Kira’s room. Maybe they thought it was yours,” I say.
He grins at me, knowing exactly where my thoughts are going. He’s been breaking hearts around town for as long as I’ve known him. One of his girls might not be so pleased about that.
“Come on. This isn’t about me. Kelly’s not still holding a grudge. We patched things up the other night. If you know what I mean.”
I laugh and shake my head. “Yeah, I’m not an idiot.”
Jason comes back with the ladder, and leans it against the house, as Sam materializes with the bucket and sponge. I take them from him and head up the ladder. “You guys go on inside. I got this,” I say, partly because I want to clean it for Kira, and partly because I need a minute alone after that near kiss that could have led to so much more.
Kira is a nice girl, a girl who deserves better than me, and when it comes right down to it, I’m not looking to get involved with Gram’s granddaughter, no matter how strong the pull is between us. Fuck, man, I’m pretty sure I never felt such tension before. It was so damn thick and heavy it made breathing near impossible. Or that could have been the heart palpations. My heart hadn’t raced like that since I kissed Carrie Bell in the closet in eighth grade, during our seven minutes in heaven.