Fight with Me Page 57

“No,” he shakes his head in denial.  “I want to build a life with you. This isn’t just an affair for me. And you get a call from someone you don’t know who wants you to pose naked in a national magazine, and I don’t weigh in on your decision at all?  How is that supposed to make me feel?”

Fuck.

“Nate.” I step toward him and he loosens his grip on me, but his face is hard, his eyes pleading with me, and I take a deep breath and wrap my arms around his waist, press my cheek against his chest and hold on tight. “Stop, babe.”

His arms fold around my shoulders and he hugs me to him.

I caress his back reassuringly, kiss his chest and back away, still in the circle of his arms. I look up into his uncertain, weary face and smile, my anger gone. He loves me. He wants to protect me.

“I was never going to accept their offer, Nate.”

“Why didn’t you just turn her down?” he asks quietly.

“Two reasons:  One, because it felt nice to get the offer, and two, because ironically, I hadn’t talked it over with you. You know I’m not interested in that. But it’s really flattering that they thought of me, out of all the girls they could choose.”  I shrug and look at his chest. “I would hope you’d be proud of me.”

“Oh, baby, I am.”  He kisses my forehead and I feel the tension seep out of him.  “I’m so proud of you. But I can’t deal with the thought you of posing again. Please turn them down.”

“Like I said, I wasn’t going to accept the offer.  But Nate, you can’t just dictate to me what I will and won’t do. I’m not the kind of girl that will just go along with your orders.”

“I know, but damn it, it pissed me off.”

“So noted.”

“You’re not going to do it?” He asks quietly, tilting my head back with his fingers under my chin, pinning me with his gray gaze.

“No.”  I run my fingers down his smooth cheek.  “Besides, my brothers and Dad would freak.”

“They’re not alone.” He kisses my forehead once again and pulls out of my arms, takes my hand and leads me toward the kitchen. “Come, I have something for you.”

“I hope it’s food, I’m starving.”  He smiles back at me.

“You’ll see.”

“So many surprises this weekend, Mr. McKenna.”

“I like surprising you. We’re going outside.”

I look down at my bare feet.  “Should I grab some shoes and a jacket?”

“No, you’ll be warm enough.  Here.”  He lifts me effortlessly into his arms and cradles me against his chest.  I wrap my arms around his neck and kiss his cheek and breathe in his clean, Nate scent.

“You smell good. I like it when you carry me.”

He smiles down at me, opens the sliding door, and walks out onto the deck.  The sun is setting on the water, turning the sky orange, red and purple.  It’s stunning.

He walks to the stairs leading down to the beach and starts descending them.

“You don’t have to carry me down all these stairs.”

“You’re fine.” He responds and easily moves down the staircase.  We arrive at the gazebo and I gasp.

“Surprise.”

Chapter Twenty Three

Nate lowers me to my feet and I stand in front of him, his hands resting on my shoulders, transfixed.  The gazebo has been transformed into a lovely, romantic getaway.  The fire pit in the center of the rustic space is ablaze, there is a table set up on one side, filled with silver-dome covered plates and a bottle of champagne chilling in a silver ice bucket.  An ottoman has been pushed flush against one of the plush outdoor loveseats, and there are large, colorful pillows and blankets propped on it.

White Christmas lights have been strewn along the perimeter of the space, both along the ceiling and the railing, adding a soft glow.

Added to that is the amazing orange, red and purple sunset happening over the deep blue ocean, and I’ve never seen anything so beautiful in my life.

“Say something,” Nate whispers.

“Wow,” I murmur.

Nate turns me around so I’m facing him, his gorgeous gray eyes dancing with humor.  “What do you think?”

“You went all mushy and romantic on me.” I cup his cheek in my palm.

“Luke can give you mushy and romantic on the screen, but it’s my job to give it to you in real life, baby.  Get used to it.” He leans down and gently lays his lips on mine, kissing me in the way only Nate can, and I sigh.

“Let’s feed you.”

We walk to the beautifully set table and Nate lifts the silver dome lids off the platters.  There are finger foods on display that are amazing and too lovely to eat.

“Okay,” Nate says, pointing at each dish.  “We have chorizo-stuffed clams, bite sized Caprese salad on crostini,” he smiles down at me, “which means cheese, tomato and basil on toasted bread, crab-cakes and bacon-wrapped steak.”

“Holy shit, this looks delicious.”  Nate hands me a plate and we dig in, piling food on our plates.  He pours us each a glass of champagne and leads me over to the plush lounging space.  We are sitting side-by-side, Indian-style, our plates in our laps, facing the ocean.

“A toast.”  Nate holds his glass aloft and I follow. “To you, Julianne. For making me feel alive and happy, no matter where we are.”