“Hungry?” Nixon released me and walked over to the basket.

“Starved.” I went over to help him, but he shook his head. “Nope, you sit right here.” He clicked a button on his keys that opened the trunk of the car and then picked me up and sat me on the edge of the Range Rover. “There now. Stay put while I get this all ready.”

Getting it all ready involved him laying down at least four layers of blankets — apparently it rained last night — and setting out different containers filled with lasagna and spaghetti.

After the food was laid out, he lit a cylinder candle and held out his hand. “Your dinner awaits.”

I jumped off the back of the car and took his hand. “Thank you.”

We sat in silence on the blanket while he poured me what I assumed was sparkling wine and put food on my plate.

I liked that he expected me to eat a lot. Maybe it was because he was Italian, or his last name said as much. Must be like our family, where not eating is a cardinal sin.

You feel sick? Eat.

You feel tired? Eat.

You feel happy? Eat.

The food looked delicious. I tried the lasagna first and moaned aloud, totally by accident, I might add.

“Shit.” Nixon dropped his fork and splattered lasagna onto the blankets. “Sorry, it’s just…” He looked away from me and gulped his wine. “Ah, slippery fork and all.”

“Right, because of the rain.” I rolled my eyes and took a bite of spaghetti. This time my moan was totally on purpose. Talk about foodgasm. Every flavor was perfect.

Nixon began choking.

“Are you okay?” I leaned over and hit his back.

He nodded and stole my wine, drinking half of it. “Yeah.” His voice was hoarse. “I just… was… choking.”

“Right.” I offered him my most disbelieving look.

Was he blushing?

Impossible.

“Who made the food?” I mentally patted myself on the back for my smooth subject change.

“I did.”

Laughing, I pushed him with my free hand while I took another bite and chewed. This time, I did not moan. I mean, I didn’t want the guy to die or anything.

“You don’t believe me?” His eyes widened a bit, then narrowed. “You think I’d lie about something as important as food?”

I put my hands up in the air in mock surrender. “Sorry, Nixon. Yes, I believe you, and if you ever get tired of running around in your little gang, you could become a world renowned chef.”

“My little gang,” he repeated. “You sound like Ma.”

“How?”

“She used to call us guys her little gang.” He pushed some food around with his fork. “Not so much anymore.”

Clearly he was uncomfortable. Another subject change already? “Did she teach you how to cook?”

“Oh yeah, my father hated it.” Nixon’s eyes softened as he leaned over and licked his lips. “I spent all my early years in the kitchen holding onto my mom’s skirts and testing all her food. She cooked a lot.”

A fuzzy memory ran through my head of a tiny little boy screaming at me in the kitchen because I got dough in his hair. I laughed. I’d forgotten all about it!

“What?” Nixon urged.

“Nothing.” I shook my head. “Or, well. It’s just, I don’t remember much from when I was little. Grandpa said everything was too traumatizing with my parents dying and all, but I remember being in a kitchen with this little boy and getting in a food fight.”

He chuckled. “What happened?”

“I think he got mad because the cook let me have a taste of the cookie dough first. Anyways, all I remember is that he threw dough at me, and I threw it back at him. We fought, and I think he tripped and hit the side of his head on the counter. I’m sure it left a scar.”

“Wow, you were a terrible child.” Nixon nodded his head. “I’m impressed.”

I hadn’t realized that he had scooted closer to me.

Slowly, I reached over and grabbed his hand.

“Do you remember anything else about your parents?” he asked softly. “Or would you rather not talk about it?”

“I don’t really know how I feel about it.” I shrugged as a breeze picked up, making me scoot closer to him. “I mean, the memories are so scattered.”

“Like a movie you can’t remember?” he asked.

“Something like that. I see pieces…”

“Tell me one…” He kissed my cheek. “If you don’t mind.”

“Alright, um… I remember things being really loud when I was little. We always had people over, lots and lots of people. I remember the dough thing… and a really pretty woman.”

Nixon’s head perked up. “I like pretty women.”

“Very funny.” I squeezed his hand. “I don’t know why I always remember her. I know it wasn’t my mom because I’ve seen pictures and remember her face a bit.”

“What did this pretty woman look like, hmm?” Nixon released my hand and began massaging my neck.

I focused on the memory, begging for it to be more clear, but all I could remember were her eyes. “She… she had really blue eyes. Like yours.”

He stopped massaging.

“And she had a really pretty laugh, it sounded like…”

“Church bells,” Nixon finished.

I jerked away. “What?”

He very sadly dropped his head. “I read minds. Why what were you going to say?”

I didn’t want to tell him that he was spot on. But only because I remember actual church bells close by. Another one of my flickering memories. I bit down on my lip. I knew it was a lucky guess.

“Dance with me.” Nixon stood and held out his hand.

“In front of the cows?” My voice squeaked.

“Uh, yeah.” Nixon looked from the cows to me. “I don’t think they’ll mind. Why, what kind of dancing were you thinking of doing? Were you hoping to embarrass the cows and get them to moo?”

Narrowing my eyes, I swatted him with my hand.

“Come on.” My body was flush against his before I could protest.

Chapter Nineteen

Nixon smelled like hot guy. Seriously, they should bottle him up and put him in stores. He’d make millions, not that he needed it.

My stomach clenched. Everything he had done. I shook my head. It didn’t compute, why was he helping me, including me in his Elect group?

“Nixon.” Pulling away so I could look in his eyes, I stopped myself from throwing up from nerves and just blurted out. “Are you leading me on?”

His blue eyes widened and then he reached out and grabbed my shoulders. “What?”

“L-leading me on.” I looked down at my shoes again. There went my bravery. “I mean, are you doing all this so you can just — I don’t know, throw me to the wolves later?”

“You don’t trust very easily do you?” he asked.

I shook my head.

“I don’t blame you.” Sighing, he pulled me back into his arms and began swaying. “And no I’m not leading you on. I’ve told you before. I want to protect you… in the beginning, you were just another new kid that I needed to show the ropes to, but now…”

“Now?” I repeated.

“Now you’re the girl who moos?” he offered, chuckling.

I tried to pull away from him, but it was impossible.

“You’re…” He stopped swaying and looked away from my face for a few seconds. “You’re beautiful… In a way, I’ve been searching my whole life for you.”

“Wow, easy on the corny movie lines.” I laughed.

He didn’t.

“I’m serious.” His eyes darkened and I was reminded again how protective and unpredictable he could be. “I just wish you would rem—”

His lips were on mine before he finished the sentence.

With a growl he picked me up and wrapped my legs around his body and laid me down against the blanket.

Nixon’s body hovered over mine. A moment of indecision flickered across his face as he pulled away and cursed. For some reason, I didn’t allow him to think about what we were doing. I just wanted to feel him. I wanted this moment to be ours, away from the school, away from the drama, away from everything.

My lips touched his. With a sigh, he leaned his forehead against mine and ran his fingers through my hair as his teeth grazed my lower lip.

“You have no idea…” He breathed across my lips as his hands moved to my neck and lifted me closer to his body. “How much I want you.”

My breathing was ragged as his lips crushed against mine. All I could taste was him. All I could smell was Nixon. A mixture of the outdoors and spice invaded my senses as his tongue slipped around mine, making my world explode with pleasure and sensations I’d never experienced before.

Shaking, I moved my hands to the loopholes of his jeans and tugged his lower body until it met mine with such force that I let out a gasp.

Taking full advantage of my mouth being open, Nixon’s mouth pressed against mine so hard it almost hurt. My fingers clenched against his hip bones as he settled between my thighs.

I’d never made out with a guy before, but everything felt so good I didn’t want to stop, nor did I really care that there were cows nearby or that we were outside on our first real date.

I just wanted him all to myself.

Nixon swore as I kissed him back as hard as I could, my teeth biting down on his lips. He paused and growled against me. With little effort, he flipped me around until I was straddling him.

My hair fell across my face as I leaned down and kissed him softly on the lips.

His hands moved to my h*ps and then he gently pushed me back and stared. His icy blue eyes nearly glowed in the dark. My chest rose and fell, and he moved his hands to my jacket and nodded, as if asking permission to peel it from my body.

Um, yes please. I held out my arms as he pulled it off, leaving me in nothing but my nearly see-through dress and lacy bra.

For a minute, I thought he died. His breathing turned shallow. He closed his eyes and mumbled, “It was always supposed to be like this. Always.”

“Like what?” I whispered.

“Like this.” His fingertips skimmed my br**sts and moved across my h*ps until they finally settled on my backside. “Like this,” he repeated as his hand reached for my face and traced the outline of my lips with his fingertips. “And like this…” That same hand moved to my chest. My heartbeat had to be erratic — I couldn’t even think clearly. But he seemed too intent, so serious about us being together. There had to be more, not that I cared. I mean, I had Nixon at my mercy, and really, all I wanted to do was take advantage. He was so beautiful.

“I—” Nixon swallowed. “I have to kiss you. I have to have you — all of you.”

I felt my eyes hood with desire as I nodded my consent. And then he tugged me down to him and kissed my neck. I arched against the sensation of his hot lips on my collarbone and then…

I heard sirens.

“Stay,” he mumbled as he continued kissing me. “They won’t see us.”