Sweet Imperfection (10 page)

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Authors: Libby Waterford

BOOK: Sweet Imperfection
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“The Pig’s Ear,” Emma said.

“Which they did not have on the menu, because I asked.”

Nate laughed. “It’s wonderful you could come for a visit, Ms. Delvaux. My parents live only a few hours away, but I can never get them to come into the city.”

“Please call me Juliette. And what do your parents do?”

As he answered, he admired her segue into the personal interview he’d half expected. She was a master at gentle interrogation, eliciting all manner of information about his family, his work, his friends, without seeming to be pushy or prying in the least. He remembered belatedly that she was a human resources executive at Google. Nate wondered exactly what Emma had told her about him. It certainly seemed as if she was vetting him as a potential romantic partner for her daughter. Juliette managed to grill him elegantly while getting a simple but lovely meal of pasta and salad on the table.

When the topic of marriage came up somehow organically in the conversation, Emma finally took pity on him.

“Mom, that’s enough. Nate isn’t applying for a job.”

“It’s okay, Emma,” he said. “I was married briefly. We split a little over a year ago.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Juliette said, not unsympathetically.

“We weren’t right for each other,” Nate said. It gave him a strange kind of relief to say it out loud. “She wasn’t my…other half.” He looked right at Emma, who wouldn’t hold his gaze.

“Well, compatibility certainly helps in any relationship,” Juliette said briskly. “Now who wants some ice cream?”

Emma rose hastily, clearing dishes, waving off Nate’s attempts to help her. “Maybe in a little while, Mom. Let me clean up and then show Nate the house.”

“Good idea, but let me finish this. You two go explore.” Juliette shooed them away, and Emma stopped to give her mom a quick peck on the cheek.

“Thanks. Yummy dinner, Mom.”

“Absolutely the best meal I’ve had in months,” Nate said truthfully. “Thank you, Juliette.”

She smiled, and a hint of blush on her cheeks made her look young enough to be Emma’s older sister.

He’d seemed to pass inspection with one of the Delvaux women. Would he be so lucky as to make it with two?

 

***

 

“We’ll avoid the basement for now. It’s partially finished, but it’s not a priority. I have a few things down there, paint cans and whatnot, but for the most part, it’s empty. We can start at the top and work our way back down.”

Emma spoke in a long rush to avoid having to talk about any of the things they actually needed to talk about. It had been fine when they were with her mother, but now that she was alone with Nate, she was strangely reluctant to have any of the conversations she knew they needed to have. Conversations about why he’d left her the other night, why he’d tried to get in touch with her right after, why she’d avoided him, why he’d shown up on her doorstep with pretty yellow flowers. The flowers had softened her heart, and his adorably brave performance under her mother’s not-so-subtle questioning had melted it further. His arm hairs, on fine display against the white linen of his shirtsleeves, rolled up to the elbows, had other places on her body melting as well.

“It’s a fine house,” he said, following her up the staircase to the second floor.

“Thank you. I’m quite in love with it. Here are the steps to the attic.” She’d taken him through two bedrooms, and they were in the farthest corner of the house. This was the room her mother was using as a guest room. She’d originally envisioned this as the nursery, so she’d painted pale green walls and clean white trim. Emma used a step stool to reach the trapdoor that let down a ladder to the attic.

“We don’t have to go up, but eventually I’d like to put in a real staircase and make it a useable space. It’s currently empty except for dust.”

“Let me take a look.” Nate climbed the ladder easily.

“There’s a light switch on the right hand side,” she called as he disappeared into the darkness. After a moment, the light clicked on. Emma took a deep breath. What was she doing? She was still terrified of making a mistake. They were dancing around each other like fencers without blades, wary and ineffectual.

The light switched off, and he descended, carefully raising the ladder and latching the trapdoor. “You’re right,” he said. “That area shouldn’t be wasted. You actually have some good light in there. I’m surprised no one has finished the space before now.”

“Probably too convenient for stashing junk,” she said. “I’m not big on storing things I’m never going to see or use.”

“Me either.”

“So this is the guest room,” she said quickly.

He glanced around, then turned his gaze on her. She felt the shift in his mood, and her mouth went dry.
Stop being a coward
, she berated herself.

“Why are you here, Nate?”

“I’m here to apologize.”

She stared at him. He said nothing else. “Well, go on then.”

He smiled. The crinkles around his eyes almost distracted her from his words, but Emma forced herself to pay attention.

“I’m sorry, Emma, for the way I behaved the night of the dance. I completely overreacted, and after wandering around in the rain for a while, I realized what a jerk I’d been. I tried to see you, but I didn’t know your room number, and you wouldn’t return my calls. I-I felt terrible. You shared something very private with me, and I didn’t really listen to you. I let all of my baggage get in the way. I’m so sorry.”

Emma nodded. His tone was heartfelt, and she couldn’t deny him forgiveness even if she wanted to. “Apology accepted. I was hurt when you walked out on me after I’d shared that with you, but I understand it’s a difficult subject.”

“See, you’re too understanding. When I told you my sad story, you listened, you were there for me; you stayed with me. I didn’t do the same for you, and I’ll always regret that. Besides, I’m tired of carrying so much baggage around. I’m ready to move on.”

Emma didn’t allow herself to dwell on the surge of hope in her chest.

“I see. So that’s another reason you’re here? Closure?”

“Closure? You mean, about us? Is that what you want?”

Emma swallowed, suddenly uncertain. “I don’t know.”

“Well, I don’t want closure, Emma. I want to open everything up again. I want to be real with you and tell you exactly what’s on my mind, and it isn’t closure. It’s the opposite of closure. My heart, my soul, my life, my love, they are all open—but only for you.”

She listened, making a motion to tuck her hair behind her ears, even though it was tied back in a ponytail.

“The question is do you want that, too?”

Nate had been moving toward her until she found herself backed up against the guest room wall. He put a hand on her waist and rested the other on the wall behind her. She couldn’t speak, couldn’t think of the words to say, so, instead, she closed the gap between their mouths and kissed him. It was like taking a breath of air, and he groaned and deepened the kiss. She was ready for it and pulled his body against hers, opening up her mouth to him. Instantly the awkwardness she’d felt around him since the beginning of the evening faded away, and all that was left was the delicious rightness of their bodies together, hearts and souls aligned as well.

They kissed, and the sound of their lips and tongues tangling in the otherwise quiet stillness aroused Emma to the point where she was grinding her hips against Nate’s, hoping for some relief from the acute need she had for him. He gripped her tightly, kissing along the line of her jaw, whispering endearments she only half heard. “Lovely, beautiful, need you so much.”

“God, I need you, too.” She was hot and aching all over. She didn’t want it to end, but she couldn’t imagine that she wouldn’t explode if he didn’t stop kissing her now. Instead, she felt the button of her jeans loosen, and suddenly a more insistent pressure was finding its way beneath her panties. Nate continued to kiss her deeply while two of his fingers stroked and soothed her excited flesh.

She whimpered when he found the exact spot that promised the most relief and the most pleasure. He stopped and focused his attention there while she panted and moaned incoherent words of praise. “Yes, more, there, fuck, don’t stop.” And then she was coming with Nate’s tongue in her mouth and his fingers on her clit, her entire body shaking as she felt all the tension and anxiety of the last week seep out of her, replaced with the buzz of carnal satisfaction. Nate slowly took her down from the high, softening his kisses, pulling away from her sex with soft, tender motions, refastening her jeans and smoothing her hair, which had finally escaped its ponytail, away from her face.

She rested her forehead on his chest, breathing in the aroma of him, soap and wood shavings, mingled with the scent of their lovemaking.

“God, Nate.” It was all she could manage to say and remain standing at the same time. She wanted to collapse on the bed with him on top of her, but her mother’s suitcase was on it.

The thought of her mother jolted her completely upright. “Shit, my mother’s downstairs.”

“Oh, yeah, I forgot,” Nate said. His eyes were bright, his mouth looked as if it had done some serious ravishing, or had been ravished itself. “Um, maybe we should clean up a bit.”

Emma led him to the bathroom that broke up the space between the bedroom she’d turned into her seldom-used office and the guest room. “I was thinking about putting a closet in this area here,” she said, her voice trying to return to its normal timbre. “Maybe a walkthrough closet to utilize the hallway.” They took turns at the sink washing their hands. Emma ran her fingers through her hair before putting it back in its elastic band.

“Great idea. Wouldn’t be too hard to add some shelves and clothes rods. You could do some custom built-ins, too, if you wanted it to be more permanent.”

“I think I’m looking for permanent,” Emma said, “I’m here to stay.”

“I like the sound of that,” Nate said. “So am I.”

They looked at each other. It was Emma’s turn to bare her soul. “Nate, I don’t want closure either. I want you. All of you. We deserve each other. We deserve to give this a real chance.”

“I’m so happy to hear you say that.” There was a choked sound as he got out the words, but Emma didn’t have time to contemplate the idea that he might be crying because she was wrapped up in his vise-like embrace. Before she knew it, all of their ablutions had been for nothing because his mouth was back on hers, and the fire in her belly was roaring back to life.

“Emma. Nate. The ice cream’s melting.” The words, sounding much too close for comfort, filtered into Emma’s consciousness, and she tore herself away from him. She forgot what she looked like and ran into the master bedroom as her mother was coming up the stairs.

“Dessert’s ready,” Juliette said.

“We’ll be right down,” Emma answered, her tone an over-hearty approximation of normalcy. Her mother quirked an eyebrow, but Emma couldn’t care.

“Take your time,” Juliette replied and backed out of the room.

Nate appeared then, adjusting his trousers. “Oh, God. Your mother thinks we just had sex.”

“Well, we did, sort of. Whatever. She’s French. She understands passion.”

“I thought I was doing so well with her,” he groaned.

“She loves you, I can tell.” Emma grabbed his hand. “Let’s go get some ice cream.”

“Sounds good. I need something to cool off.”

“Besides, my dad’s the one you should be worried about.” At his panicked expression, she flashed him a mischievous smile and pulled him down the stairs.

 

 

 

Chapter Eleven

 

 

Emma pushed open the front door of her brownstone and was met with a welcome sight. Nate lay on the floor of her entryway, shirtless, his tool belt slung low around his hips, prying up some baseboards. The air smelled like sweat and sawdust. An iPod connected to a wireless speaker blasted The Black Keys. She was home.

Two weeks had passed since Nate had shown up with flowers on her doorstep and had proceeded to charm her mother and make Emma the happiest girl in Brooklyn, not to mention the most sexually satisfied. Two weeks of kisses and dinners and talking late into the night. And sex. They’d been working, too. Emma had been putting in long days at the office, but she didn’t mind now she had someone to come home to. Nate had all but moved into the brownstone over the last few days, spending more and more time there as he began to work on the house as promised.

“You know, we haven’t discussed your fees,” Emma said, dropping her workbag on the floor and sinking down beside her man, heedless of wood shavings that clung to her silk skirt.

“Hey, you should be wearing safety glasses. This is a construction zone.” Nate lifted his own off his face and set them tilted on Emma’s nose.

She giggled, straightened them, and leaned in for a kiss. Nate’s mouth was warm and welcoming under hers, and she sighed into the kiss, the now-familiar zing of lust pulsing through her core. He was working, and she would ruin her outfit. Who cared? She needed him inside her right now, on the floor, wherever.

The doorbell rang. She ignored it, but Nate sat up. “That’s probably Cory. He’s dropping off some paperwork for me.”

“Well, don’t forget where we were,” Emma instructed. She stood, tossed Nate his glasses, and opened the door.

Despite his business suit and tie, Cory still looked like the pot-smoking bro she remembered from college. “Hi, Cory, come on in.”

“Emma, you look fabulous,” he said, leaning in to give her a smooth buss on the cheek. “Nate, brother, long time, no see.” The men hugged with some silently agreed-upon-one-arm motion that made Emma smile.

“Your place is great. My wife, Lizzie, and I are thinking about buying, but you know how crazy it is.”

Emma agreed and asked if he wanted a tour. He eyed the particles of wood on her skirt. “Maybe some other time. I’m dropping off some papers for Nate here.”

“You need me to sign some things?” Nate asked. Cory handed him a file folder.

“It’s all marked, dude. Here’s a pen.”

Nate took the file, accepted the pen, and went to the living room, leaving Emma and Cory alone.

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