Enlightened (9 page)
Nathan may have made it out as a joke, but I knew him well enough now to catch the note of hurt that seeped into his tone, presumably from the idea of leaving his beloved apartment, and I frowned, hating the fact that it was me causing him hurt. Perhaps if we did a bit of redecorating and made it “our” apartment as opposed to just “his”, then I’d get used to the space? It was probably worth a try. I wanted to reassure him, especially as he’d just been so open and honest with me, so I didn’t give Nathan my stock answer of ‘no’, instead I kissed him again and then leant in close to his ear. ‘Let’s see how we go in the next few weeks, OK? Maybe I could try …’
If I’d ever had any doubts about Nathan’s feelings towards me they would have been cleared up that very second, because upon hearing my words he leant back and gazed down at me with a huge grin on his lips. Wow, that smile was incredible, and the happiness in Nathan’s eyes was un-mistakable, he was clearly overjoyed. Well, that settled it then, I either needed to get over my jealousy and move in here, or somehow have to break the news that I still wanted him to move out of his beloved apartment.
Tiptoeing along the corridor towards the kitchen I fiddled with my hair nervously as my mind ticked over my options. I needed to approach this subject with the upmost care and delicacy. It wasn’t one of those things I could carelessly toss out into the air, otherwise Nicholas would freak out and lock himself in his piano room for the remainder of the day – or perhaps even the entire weekend if I was unlucky.
The wedding flowers.
This was one of my allocated tasks for the wedding, and today was my first appointment with some florists to see bouquet samples and possible table arrangements. The quotes I’d had were astronomical, and even though Nicholas and I weren’t hard up for cash this was one of those times that I wished I was creative so I could do my own displays and save us some money – perhaps add it to the charity donation we were making as part of the wedding – but unfortunately, that wasn’t the case, I was terrible at anything artsy. I’d hoped that Stella and her spectacular flair for interior design might have been able to create some fantastic floral work, but regardless of her recent illness, apparently her style skills didn’t quite transfer into the actual making of things, so it looked like I’d be calling in a pro.
Now we’d picked the venue for the wedding I knew I either needed a florist in the Lake District, or one who was willing make the trip north. The three florists I’d arranged to see were from various parts of the country, but willing to travel within the UK for an additional fee if I liked their selections. Today’s outing had all been arranged weeks ago – Stella was supposed to be accompanying me and we were going to make it into a lovely girly day out, but after her flu last week she was still really run down and had called and cancelled, apologising profusely, and saying that she simply didn’t have enough energy for a shopping spree. Louise, my second bridesmaid, was working in the bookshop today so I was officially partnerless. I didn’t fancy making decisions like this on my own, so that left only one option: Nicholas.
I was sure I could persuade Nicholas to come and look at a couple of bouquets if I engaged my best coercive skills, but unfortunately today’s meetings wouldn’t just be a quick trip to a florist – no, my appointments were in Earls Court.
Or more specifically, the National Wedding Show at Earls Court Exhibition Centre.
Pausing on the threshold to the kitchen I closed my eyes and grimaced. With over three hundred stalls ranging from florists and bridal boutiques to photographers and cake makers it was going to be stuffed full of cooing brides, over excited mother-in-laws, and soppy romantic music. Basically, it was Nicholas’ worst nightmare come true. My poor, emotionally deprived man would hate it, I just knew it. If I’d felt comfortable making the decision on my own I wouldn’t even bother to ask him, but this was a big deal and I wanted –
needed
– a second opinion.
Taking a deep breath for courage I entered the kitchen and immediately forgot my worry as I felt my lips tug into a smile at the sight before me. Nicholas, my usually immaculate and well-presented gentleman, was stood at the kitchen counter in a pair of loose pyjama bottoms and a crumpled, dark grey T-shirt with stylistic piano keys printed across the shoulders. I loved this particular T-shirt on him. It was tight across his muscles in all the right places, and from memory, had the same colourful logo across the chest too. The most incongruous things though, were his unshaven stubbly jaw and his dark hair, which was in absolute disarray on his head flopping all over the place and looking so unbelievably sexy that I found myself biting down on my lower lip and squeezing my thighs together. Blimey. Nicholas looking rough and ready, what a sight to start the day.
His legs were spread, his broad shoulders slightly dipped as he studied a newspaper on the counter intently, and I was suddenly filled with the overwhelming temptation to forget the stupid flowers and drag him onto to the kitchen floor to have my wicked way with his delicious body. Heaving out a breath I forced the lust to the back of my mind and instead approached behind him and slid my arms around his waist so they were linked on his flat belly. Pushing onto my tip toes I rested my chin on his shoulder and placed a kiss on his neck. Hmmm, he smelled just as good as he looked; warm and sleepy with a hint of his aftershave still remaining from the night before.
‘Morning, sweetheart,’ he murmured. ‘You slept in.’ Swivelling in my arms Nicholas turned so I was met with a close up of his tousled gorgeousness and a contented sigh slipped from my lips. Lifting his arms he rested one lightly on my shoulder and used the other to grip my bum and pull me firmly against him so our hips were melded together and our faces just inches apart before dropping a soft, lovely kiss on my lips.
‘Hi,’ I replied, my eyebrows raising as I felt the stirrings of his groin hardening against my tummy. He was always so horny in the mornings, but at that thought I had to grin because actually given half a chance Nicholas could get horny pretty much any time of the day. Shifting slightly so I could glance down between us I blushed as I saw a glimpse of hard, pink skin poking from the slit in his pyjamas. He clearly wasn’t wearing any boxers, a fact which suddenly made me feel shy – a ridiculous reaction given how long we’d been together. Shy, but also quite lusty. Perhaps my kitchen floor sex plan would become a reality after all.
‘I was thinking we could have a lazy day in bed today. I could do with a break after all the concerts and wedding plans recently and I’ve got nothing in my diary at all. What about you?’
Bugger
. Talk about ruining my horniness. It was like he’d thrown a bucket of ice water over me. Well, it was now or never, I might as well just get it out there I suppose.
‘Um … I do have some things I need to do today.’ Looking up at him hopefully I found myself twiddling with my hair – my little tell, as he called it – and I just knew that he’d be internally trying to work out why I was anxious. ‘Actually, I was hoping you might help me out.’
Both of his hands now rested on my waist, gently massaging me as he slowly circled his hips to rub his erection against me, all the while giving me a considering look. Talk about distracting. ‘Of course … what do you need my help with?’ Nicholas has often said I was transparent to him, and I was almost certain from his slightly narrowed eyes and marginal tension in his shoulders that he knew he wasn’t going to like my answer.
As his arousal became harder against me I genuinely struggled to remember what the heck I needed his help with, and had to forcibly focus my mind. Wedding. Flowers.
Not
sex. ‘Stella was supposed to be helping me pick out a wedding bouquet today, but she’s still not on top form after her flu. I don’t want to do it on my own, so I was hoping you might help me?’
Beneath my hands I felt his muscles relax, ‘Is that all? Of course I’ll come with you.’
That was the easy part out of the way – now to drop the real bombshell. ‘Great! Thank you, Nicholas,’ I gushed, before biting my lower lip and taking a deep breath, ‘The thing is, it’s not just a florist shop we need to go to … I arranged to meet with several florists today because there’s an event they will all be at together.’ The tension in his muscles returned, this time accompanied with a much deeper eyebrow lowering. The only good thing was that he stayed quiet so I could get it all out in one go. ‘It’s at Earls Court Exhibition Centre.’ Clearing my throat I chucked the last nugget of information at him. ‘This weekend is the National Wedding Show … that’s where my appointments are.’
I could literally feel his arousal ebbing away as my words sunk in. Poor man. In general Nicholas was opening up to me far more regularly, but I still struggled to really read him because as much as he was beginning to let his guard down, he still kept quite a good deal hidden. Right now though, his emotion was blindingly obvious; he didn’t want to go to the event –
at all
– but he was torn because he felt like he should accompany me.
‘I’m not sure, Becky …’ he started hesitantly, ‘It’ll be crowded, hot, and full of overly hormonal woman fighting for the best deals, won’t it?’
‘No! It’ll be nothing like that!’ I replied cheerily, brushing off his concern, even though I suspected that it would be
exactly
like that. ‘There’s a bar … with free champagne,’ I blurted in desperation, although given how rich Nicholas was, the pull of free champagne was probably dimmed slightly by the fact that he could buy as many bottles as he liked without even marginally denting his finances.
He clicked his tongue in annoyance and shook his head in apparent exasperation, ‘Exchanging a lazy day of sex with being squashed in a hot, busy room whilst we’re hassled to death.’ Exhaling a long breath Nicholas stared at me for several more seconds before finally nodding curtly once. ‘Let me go and change and we’ll leave,’ he mumbled petulantly as he slid from my arms, ‘It’s just as well I love you,’ he muttered, dropping a kiss on my forehead as he lumbered from the room with far less grace than usual, leaving me giggling in his wake at his continued struggle to be a ‘normal’ boyfriend. Bless him.
Thank God the traffic hadn’t been busy today. We’d made it to Earls Court and managed to find the parking space that I’d pre-reserved when I booked the tickets, all within half an hour of leaving Nicholas’ house. Nicholas hadn’t complained again about accompanying me, but he had been rather quiet during the drive and if we’d ended up stuck in traffic as well that might just have topped off his brooding mood and caused him to turn for home.
Following the signs pointing us from the car park up to the front steps of the building and into the main hall we stepped through the doors and were immediately met by a cacophony of sounds and sights, and as Nicholas had predicted, it was totally rammed with people.
Crap
. Even to me, the supposed blushing bride, this place looked like a nightmare. God only knows what Nicholas was thinking. I got a pretty good idea about a second later when his hand found mine by my side and took hold with such a tight, panicked grip that I almost winced before turning my head to look up at him. The urge to laugh was almost impossible to hide; Nicholas looked like a deer well and truly stuck in the headlights. His face was pale, eyes wide, and a sheen of sweat was actually forming on his brow. I knew he hated crowds, he’d told me previously that the only way he survived his concerts was to lose himself in his piano music, and now I was going to make him traipse around his own personal version of hell. Oops. I suppose the fact that he was even willing to do this showed how much he cared for me.
‘We’ll be as quick as we can,’ I promised. Stella and I had planned to spend the morning checking out bridesmaids’ dresses, then grab some lunch and free champers, before going to my florist appointments and looking around at the flower arrangements and table decorations. But there was no way I could do even half of that now. Firstly we were far later arriving than I’d originally planned – my accidental lie in was the cause of that – but in addition to the lack of time, the very thought of making Nicholas look at bridesmaid dresses as well as flowers was nearly enough to make me laugh hysterically. The free champagne might not be a bad place to start though, it was gone lunch time, after all, and it could work to loosen him up a bit.
Checking my map I saw the bar was to our right, as was the first florist I needed to see, so I tugged my reluctant man through the throngs of people and after depositing a full glass of sparkling wine in his hand I watched in amusement as Nicholas downed it in one and then looked at me with a raised eyebrow.
‘You know I have a plan to get you back for this hell,’ he said with a smirk. ‘Next weekend I’m going to take you to a ballroom dancing event, and I’m going to make you dance every single dance I know.’ His mouth tweaked with one of his half smiles and I laughed at his statement. Nicholas knew how much I hated formal dancing. I could wing it on the dance floor of a club for a while and enjoy myself, but actual choreographed dancing that involved skill, timing, and rhythm? I was disastrous.
Worse
than disastrous. I tried ballet as a child and was told that as well as having two left feet, my co-ordination was akin to that of a newly born foal, as in, completely absent.
However, the idea of Nicholas being able to dance was rather appealing, and not one we’d ever discussed before. ‘You can dance?’ I asked curiously, swapping his empty glass with my full one, which he immediately took to his lips, although thankfully with a more refined sip this time. It had never crossed my mind that Nicholas might be able to dance, it seemed quite a soft thing for a tough, closed-off guy like him to know.
‘I can,’ he stated, slipping an arm around my waist and pulling me in closer where he started to slightly sway his hips in demonstration. Now that I thought about it, his hips were clearly skilled in other rhythmic and naughty activities, so dancing would probably come pretty easily to him. ‘I learnt at school. Nathan and I did as many after -school clubs as we could to avoid the house.’ Which I took to mean, to avoid being around his abusive bastard of a father. ‘During certain terms the only clubs available were dance ones, so I did lots of classical dancing and even some salsa for a while.’
Ho-ly
shit. The idea of Nicholas salsa dancing almost blew my mind; hips gyrating, torso slick with sweat as he moved to the hot, sensual beat of the Latin music … what a thought. It was enough to make my groin wet and throat suddenly dry, and I snatched back my glass to have a sip and moisten my parched mouth.
‘Maybe I’ll teach you one day,’ he murmured, lowering his lips into my hair and still lightly swaying his hips against mine, ‘After all, I seem to have failed to teach you how to play the piano with any great skill, so I may as well try something else.’ His dig at my piano skills bounced right off me because he was right, I was still dreadful no matter how much practice I did.
‘You didn’t exactly give me much time to learn though, Nicholas, did you?’ I responded in a pointed tone, keen to tease him back and distract my mind from my raging arousal. ‘You would drag me off to the bedroom almost as soon as I arrived for my lessons. It’s no wonder I’m still crap.’ Grinding his hips firmly against mine he flashed me a welcome smile, and I was relieved that our banter was relaxing him, even if it was getting me turned on almost to the point of no return.