Chapter Twenty-Eight

Nash

Chelle was already pulling away, and it was gutting him.

He’d been watching her all day, the boulder of dread in his gut getting heavier and heavier as he saw it all unfold. It was all there in the faraway look she had in her eyes during dinner, the sad smile she shot him during the goose story, and the soft sigh she’d let out while they sat on the loveseat and watched the fire turn to embers after everyone else had turned in for the night. So he’d taken her hand—he couldn’t help himself, being near Chelle and not touching her was pure torture—and led her upstairs to their room, promising himself that he’d start disengaging from the fantasy that all of this was real.

But not tonight.

He’d give himself one more night to show her how he felt, since there was no way he could tell her—she deserved better than to be put in that kind of awkward position of having to find a way to tell him she didn’t feel the same.

He opened the door to their room and stepped back, letting her enter first. Damn, he loved watching the woman move. The way her round ass filled out her jeans was a sight he was never going to forget.

“Are you just gonna watch me?” she asked with a sexy pout.

He strolled in after her, putting on that cocky smile that she always responded to. “Maybe.”

Then he sat down on the bench at the end of the bed and did just that as she turned completely and made her way over to him, until she was standing between his legs, her full tits and her hard nipples poking against her thin sweater. When she grasped the hem of it, he held his breath. He fisted his hands on his thighs to stop from reaching up and doing it for her, because for as much as he wanted to rip it off of her and feast on her until she was writhing with pleasure in his arms, he wanted to slow every moment down—make time stop.

She had other ideas. She lifted the dark blue material, inching it upward at first, only showing an inch of the white skin of her soft stomach, then it was her see-through black bra and her pale pink nipples. By the time she swept it upward off her head and gave him the full view of her amazing tits curving above her bra, he was hypnotized.

Chelle hooked a finger under his chin and tilted his face up. “Close your eyes.”

“Why?” he asked, blinking as he tried to work out the logic of it.

Her lips tilted upward in a small, sly smile. “Because I want you to do more than just see me.”

“Trust me, I do,” he said. “Actually, I—”

“Nash,” she cut in. “Close them.”

He did what he was told.

In an instant, everything went black as he fought the frustration of not being able to watch her, memorize every line, every freckle, every millimeter of her. It locked his lungs tight and made him clench the muscles in his ass as he fought every instinct, every want, every need to have all of Chelle and to take care of her.

She stroked her thumb across his jaw, her touch feather light. “Breathe, Nash.”

Fuck. He was messing this all up.

“Nash.” The air moved around him as she leaned in close, her warm scent encircling him. Then her lips brushed his earlobe. “Please.”

He exhaled the breath he’d been holding, and Chelle came into being on a whole new level. Check that. She came into being on a million different levels. It was more than just her scent that tied itself in ribbons around him. It was the half a second of tightened anticipation as he sensed her before she touched or kissed him. It was the way, when she trailed her fingers down the front of his sweater before reaching the hem and tugging it up over his head, that it imprinted on some primal part of him. The nearly overwhelming pleasure as she glided her palms over his bare chest that shot straight to his dick. Then she kissed her way down the side of his neck as she braced her hands on his thighs, and he felt her lower herself down between his legs. The second she undid the button of his jeans, he was already at the breaking point.

With his eyes shut tight, he was surrounded everywhere by Chelle. She was every inhale and exhale, every anticipated second, every hope and want and need mixed into the wife he never wanted to give up.

“Stand up,” she said, sounding as on edge and desperate as he felt at that moment.

He didn’t hesitate.

While her taking off his sweater had been slow and deliberate, she yanked down his jeans and boxer briefs in one fluid motion. He had just enough time to register the cool air on his hard cock before it was surrounded by the warm, wet heat of her mouth.

“Fuck,” he groaned out as she took him in deep, until he hit the back of her throat.

He dropped his hands to the top of her head, winding his fingers through the silky strands of her hair, and she hummed her approval on his cock as he pumped his hips. Her hands were on his ass, her fingernails imprinting on his skin as she met him stroke for stroke. Her tongue, her lips, the pressure as she sucked him in had him on the verge of coming before he was ready. His eyes snapped open, and the sight of Chelle with his dick in her mouth as she looked at him had his balls tightening.

Fuck that.

“You’re coming before I do.”

She pulled her mouth off of him but kept slow-stroking his dick. “You opened your eyes.”

“Good try,” he said as he scooped her up and tossed her on the bed, “but you’re not changing the subject.”

He stripped her jeans and panties off before she had a chance to respond. Whatever she was going to say morphed into a gasp of pleasure when he sank between her splayed legs. Forget teasing or drawing it out. He wanted her to come hard and fast all over his mouth, so he went after it like a man desperate to show how high they could go together. Tuned into the way her body responded—the hitch of her breath, the moment her thighs started to quiver on either side of his head—he cupped her ass and lifted it up off the bed, changing the angle until he hit right at the perfect spot, and she started begging him not to stop. She didn’t have to worry. Stopping was the last thing he was about to do, because all he wanted in the world was to make Chelle feel good.

“Nash,” she cried out as she came.

Her breathing was still erratic when he rolled on a condom, climbed up onto the bed, lifted her up, and lowered her down on his hard cock. Holding her hips, he moved her up and down as she came back to herself, her lust-hazy eyes clearing somewhat but that satisfied smile of hers staying in place.

“You wanted to watch, huh?” she asked as she leaned forward, dangling her full tits just above his mouth.

He didn’t answer. He didn’t need to. Because the truth of it was that he’d always want to see her, to feel her, to be with her. This wasn’t just a good time until he won the bet and she went to court to confirm she’d met the requirements of that crazy will so she could save the foundation from her jackass uncle. This was so much more. It was everything. Chelle Finch was everything—and he’d never be able to get her out of his system. He didn’t even want to try.

The realization hit him a half second before his orgasm sucked all of the air out of his body, and the last thing he saw before pleasure forced his eyes closed was the woman he loved.

This was where he was meant to be—with her, always.

And it was the last place he’d get to be after the divorce proceedings started.

A few minutes later, Chelle was curled up on Nash’s chest, with his arms wrapped around her while they watched the snow fall outside the window in comfortable silence. Silence wasn’t normally his thing. There was usually too much he needed to say to make sure things were taken care of, that no one forgot anything, and to give someone the information they may not have even realized they needed. But with Chelle? He could lay in the bed, quiet, and know that these kind of moments with her were about as good as it could get. He could relax.

“What were Christmases here like before?” she asked, her voice soft and quiet as she traced a swerved pattern across his chest with her fingers.

“You mean with Grandma Betty?”

Chelle nodded, and a million images flooded Nash’s brain. Decorating the tree. Chasing down Maurice so they could include the goose in the annual family Christmas photo. Eating the dozens and dozens and dozens of cookies that Grandma Betty ordered in from a local bakery. Spending Christmas Eve pretending to sleep in a huge blanket fort with his cousins, brother, and sister, and laughing so hard at the dumb jokes Macon made that chocolate milk came out of Nash’s nose. It wasn’t just that the Christmases were fun, it was that it had been one of the few times growing up when he wasn’t on duty, watching out for his parents, Macon, or Bristol.

“They were amazing.”

“Your family is pretty great.” She propped her chin on the back of her hand pressed to the spot above his heart and looked up at him. “Is this always a cousin thing, though? None of your parents are here.”

Nash let out a weary sigh before he could stop himself.

“Shit,” Chelle said as she scrunched up her nose and squeezed her eyes shut. “I hit on a sore spot? Sorry. You don’t have to say anything. It’s not my business.”

But he wanted it to be her business, just like he wanted all of her headaches to be his. He brushed a kiss across her temple and circled his palm over her bare back as she sprawled over his chest. “It’s okay, I want you to know.”

She comically opened only one eye and, squinting up at him, asked, “You do?”

“You’re my wife.”

Her lush lips flattened into a thin line as she pressed them tightly together, and she dropped her gaze to the base of his neck before letting out a shaky breath. “We both know that’s only true for the next few days.”

“But it’s true now.” He stopped himself before he could let out a promise that it would always be. She wasn’t ready for that. He needed time to bring her around. Unfortunately, he only had a few days. It wasn’t enough, but it would have to be.

So instead of saying all of that, he glided his palm up and down her spine in slow, reassuring strokes. “This has always been a cousins-only event. I think Grandma made it that way because she knew none of our parents are exactly parents-of-the-year material. Dixon’s are probably the closest, but they’ve definitely got their reasons for not being here. Griff’s mom is dead and his dad is a true piece of shit. My parents fit somewhere in the middle. They love Macon, Bristol, and me, but they have their own way of showing it.”

When a person was with either of his parents, it was easy to feel like the center of their world, but as soon as they were out of sight, they were out of mind. It wasn’t personal. It worked the same for money or meetings or friends.

“Both of my parents grew up without a real concept of how to get things done in the real world, about the importance of paying bills when they were due, or getting forms for school signed, or all the logistical stuff it takes to make a household function. They’re good people, but they need someone to take care of that for them.”

Chelle kissed his chest above his heart. “And that someone was you.”

“Yeah, but I don’t mind.” Sure, sometimes it was exhausting, and he’d skipped out on trips or experiences or even owning a fish because he couldn’t take care of one more thing, but that’s just the way it was for the responsible, oldest child. “It’s just easier that way, and I can make sure everyone is taken care of.”

She lifted her face and looked up at him, a smile teasing the corners of her mouth. “That explains your mansplaining.”

He stopped mid-stroke, feeling a bit like the room had gotten brighter somehow. “I like to help.”

“And who helps you?” Chelle cocked her head in question and pursed her lips, as if trying to stop herself from saying something else.

“I’m fine,” he said, the words coming out more defensive than they would have usually. “I’ve got everything and everyone taken care of.”

Chelle let out a soft sigh and snuggled against him, so there really was no daylight getting between them. “You’re a good guy, Nash.”

It wasn’t “I love you.” It wasn’t “I want to make this fake marriage real.” It wasn’t forever. Not yet. But he’d figure out how to make that happen over the next few days. He had to. There was no way he could sit back and watch Chelle walk out of his life for good.