Meeting Mr. Wright (5 page)

Read Meeting Mr. Wright Online

Authors: Cassie Cross

Tags: #romance

“She’s determined to get me on a date.”

“I doubt you have trouble with that,” he says, looking at me so intensely that I can feel the blush creeping up my cheeks. That seems to happen often whenever I’m around him.

“I meant that she’s determined to get me to go out on a date, not to help me find one.” I’m flattered anyway, which I suppose is what he was going for.

“So, yesterday when you said that you don’t date-”

“I meant that I
really
don’t date.”

I can tell that Nate wants to ask me why, wants to find out more about that particular promise that I’ve made to myself, but he knows this isn’t the time and it definitely isn’t the place.

“Phew,” he says, playfully wiping his forehead with the back of his hand. “I thought maybe it was me, that you were trying to let me down easy.”

I laugh. “It’s not you, trust me.”

“Well.” Nate shrugs as he looks down the dirt path sprawling in front of us. “How do you feel about a strictly platonic trip to the river? Because my brother and his bride aren’t coming back.”

I take a few steps forward, and soon we’re walking side-by-side.

“I think I can handle a strictly platonic trip to the river.”

 

N
ATE JOSTLES
open the rickety old door to the family’s boathouse, and I keep a safe distance on a small patch of grass a few feet away, close to the river. The place looks ancient, and even though it’s probably safe, it doesn’t look all that safe to me.

“I’m just going to stay over here,” I say, folding my arms across my chest.

“Nothing in here is going to get you.” Nate seems amused by my reluctance to believe there isn’t an axe-wielding murderer hanging out in there.

“I’m going to stay over here.” I repeat. “And don’t think about playing some trick on me to get me to go in there. I’ve seen enough movies to know what kinds of scary things happen in dark boathouses.”

Nate shakes his head and laughs as he walks inside. “Would you leave me here?” he yells from inside. “If something scary happened inside this dark boathouse?”

“I don’t know, maybe.” I reach into my bag and pull out my sunscreen, then rub it on my shoulders and arms before the sun has a chance to burn me lobster red. When I’m finished applying the sunscreen, Nate walks out, his arms full.

“What are those?”

“These are inner tubes,” he says slowly.

“I know what they are, but I want to know what you’re doing with them.”

“We’re going to use them as floating apparatuses. You see, that’s what they’re for.”

“No way,” I say, looking at the water. “I thought we were just going to sit on the shore and, like, sun ourselves.”

“Well, there isn’t much shore to speak of, in case you didn’t notice.”

“I can set myself up on the grass, I don’t have a problem with that.”

“What kind of fun would that be?” he asks as he tosses the tubes onto the ground.

“The kind of fun that keeps me stationary and on dry land. Because I have the kind of luck where I’d float off down a tributary or whatever and wind up in the Atlantic.”

Nate grins as he wraps his fingers around the hem of his shirt and lifts it over his head. When my eyes come to rest on the broad, tanned planes of his chest, I forget what I was even talking about. I’m preoccupied with maybe eventually putting my mouth on his body. Again. And again.

“Are you afraid of water, Callie?”

I shake my head to bring myself back into the moment, because I really don’t need to be thinking about how good he looks with his shirt off, even though he looks really,
really
good.

“What?”

Nate laughs. “Are you afraid of water?”

“I’m not so much afraid of water as I just don’t get into large bodies of it. Generally speaking.”

“I’ll tell you what,” he says, undoing a knot in the rope that’s wrapped around one of the inner tubes. “I’ll tie your raft to mine and I’ll keep us going in the right direction. If you drift off and float down a tributary or whatever into the Atlantic, I’ll be right there with you.”

I look at him skeptically. “You don’t seem all that worried about our possible castaway status.”

“Well, Ben and Gabby’s wedding is in a few days and I would do pretty much anything to avoid having to wear a suit.” He winks at me, and I swear my knees almost give out. Damn him.

I want to tell him that I think he’d look really good in a suit, but I refrain. That would only encourage him, and the last thing he needs is encouragement. “Okay,” I say. “But I’ll be keeping my eye on you.”

“I’m looking forward to it.” He tosses the tubes in the river, then steps in and turns toward me. “C’mon,” he says, holding out his hand to help me into the water. “Just lean back and relax. I’ll take care of the rest.”

 

I
HAVEN’T
been in the water very long before I realize that floating to the Atlantic on this inner tube might not be such an awful thing after all. I love the sound of the water lapping against the rubber, the gentle rustling of the leaves as the breeze runs through them. The tips of my toes skim the surface of the water, and I kick a little over onto Nate.

He grins as he looks over at me. “You don’t want to start something that you can’t finish,” he says, a wicked gleam in his eyes.

I start to flick some more water onto him when I hear a familiar throaty laugh. I sit up, balancing myself on the giant floating donut I’m draped over, and sure enough, Ethan and Emily are sitting together on the river bank across from us. Ethan is leaning over, looking like he’s going in for a kiss. I groan quietly.

“What’s the matter?” Nate asks, turning to see what I’m looking at.

I think I hear a soft ‘oh’ come from his direction, but I’m not sure.

“It’s nothing,” I reply as I lean back, trying to ignore them.

Nate’s quiet for a few seconds before he says, “He’s a dick for what he did to you.”

I look over at him, not really surprised that he knows about me and Ethan, but I am kind of surprised that he said something about it. “Gabby told you?”

“My brother did, actually. He told me about what Ethan did and that his ex was coming, too. Gabby told me that the ex was you, and that you didn’t want to make anyone uncomfortable this weekend, so to make sure that I didn’t say anything about it. Not that it would’ve been hard to figure out that there’s a history between the two of you, given the way that you look at him.”

I’m surprised to hear that my face gives so much away; I thought I’d learned how to sufficiently school my expression when it comes to Ethan. “How do I look at him?”

“Like you want to rip his heart out of his chest.”

“Then who thought it would be a good idea to put him and his new girlfriend in the room right next to mine?” I ask.

He sits up, and the water sloshes around him. “Shit, seriously?”

I laugh. “Yes, seriously.”

“Do you want to move? You shouldn’t have to deal with all that. We can find another room for you; there are plenty. I’ll help you with your things.”

It’s nice that he’s so concerned for me, and I’m glad that in addition to being so incredibly hot and so incredibly great in bed that he also seems to be a good person. I don’t allow myself to think too much about it; seeming and being are two different things. I’ve been fooled by appearances before. The man on the other side of the shore is proof of that.

“I can stay where I am, it’s okay,” I reply, pulling my hair back into a ponytail. “I don’t want to be petty about it.”

Nate gives me a long look before he speaks again. “If you feel uncomfortable, you’ll tell me?”

I feel a tingling warmth beneath my skin when he says those words. “I will.”

“I’ll kick his ass if you want me to.”

Nate’s so at ease out here, his left arm folded behind his head, the rope to my inner tube loosely grasped in his right hand. His legs are so long that they’re knee-deep in the water, creating a nice drag that keeps us moving down the river at a very slow, leisurely pace.

“That’s a sweet offer,” I reply. “But I’d appreciate it if you just keep us steady on our course here.”

He lets out a laugh through a wide, lazy smile. “You’re really not into the outdoors, are you?”

“I’m more of a fan of air conditioning. And I like looking at nature, just not really participating in it.”

“Have you ever been to Colorado?”

I shake my head. “Nope.”

“You’d change your mind if you came to Boulder. It’s gorgeous; you can’t help but want to be outside all the time.”

I want to tell him that if he knew me better he’d rethink that statement. I could help it, and I would help it. But he looks so happy that I decide to ask him a little bit about himself instead.

“Gabby told me that you manage a sporting goods store there, is that right?”

“I manage a chain of them, yeah. I worked there while I was in college, and when I graduated a few years ago they promoted me to store manager. Now I’m regional manager.”

“That kind of job seems like it would suit you.”

“It does?”

I nod. “Well, you rappel, as we both know. And you’re an expert inner tube navigator.” He smiles, and it seems to make him happy that I remember how he got that scar on his hand. How could I forget? Asking about that scar in the airport bar led to one of the best nights of my life.

“I take it your job keeps you in the air conditioning?”

“It does, as a matter of fact. I own my own business.”

“Really?” Nate raises his eyebrows, and I get the feeling he’s impressed with me.

“Really.”

“A business that specializes in businessing, or…”

“I’m a web developer. I make websites for small businesses and charities. Things like that.”

“Wow,” he replies, raising his eyebrows. “That must be nice.”

“I like being my own boss. I get to set my own hours, which is pretty great.”

“There’s a ‘but’ in there, I can tell.”

I bite my bottom lip, dragging it through my teeth as I think of a way to address that ‘but’ without sounding like I’m ungrateful or unhappy. “I’m proud of the work that I do. But…sometimes it just feels so insignificant. When I was younger, I always thought that when I got out of college and started doing my own thing that I’d be making a real difference. That I’d be changing the world.”

“We can’t all cure cancer,” he says, skimming his fingertips along the surface of the water. “Besides, I think scale is overrated when you talk about change. Just because it isn’t big doesn’t mean that you’re not doing it.”

“What do you mean?”

He shrugs. “Maybe you
are
changing the world.”

“Doubtful,” I reply. “None of my clients have ever said, ‘Wow, Callie. That’s a groundbreaking font choice.”

Nate laughs and kicks his legs out of the water, sending a shower of droplets raining down in front of us.

“Maybe not, but you make a website for a business, and that increases their exposure, helps them generate sales and revenue. One of those business owners might take that money and help build a community center or start an outreach program. Or maybe they’re taking the money that website helped them earn and sending their kid to college. Maybe that kid will do something great, and you’ll have had a hand in it. You just have to look at things a little differently.”

I turn to him, absolutely speechless, completely in awe. I haven’t ever thought of it like that before. And even though I don’t dare tell him this, a small part of me is beginning to look at
him
differently, too.

Nate and I continue floating along the river for a little while longer, the two of us silent more often than not, just enjoying each other’s company and the beauty of the nature surrounding us. Soon, clouds roll in, and small droplets of rain plink against the water. Nate paddles us over to the riverbank, and once he’s on solid ground he reaches down, clasps my hand, and helps me up. I’m surprised to see that we haven’t really floated all that far; the boathouse is just a hundred yards or so away. Nate picks up the inner tubes and slides his arms through the middle of each of them, then anchors them over his shoulders.

I follow him down a narrow dirt path, and when we reach the dock I slip on my shoes and wrap my towel around my shoulders. Nate throws the tubes in the boathouse and hurries back down to the dock. I hand him a towel after he puts his shirt on, and I shiver when the wind picks up, chilling me to the bone.

“Here,” Nate says, draping his towel over me. He takes my bag and slings it over his shoulder, then wraps his arm around me and tucks me into his side, blocking most of the wind and a good bit of the rain.

We walk back to the house at a fast clip. Nate, who’s soaking wet, and me, feeling warmer than I can ever remember.

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