“Jesus, Callie. Your feet are freezing.”

“That’s why I turned on the fireplace,” I say, hurrying to finish the email I was working on when he interrupted me.

Nate hops off the hammock, walks over to a cabinet that’s on the other side of the porch, and he pulls out a plush-looking blanket. He unfolds it as he walks toward me and he spreads it over me before he lowers himself back into the hammock. I can’t help but smile at how attentive he is; he always seems to be so completely aware of what it is I need, which is remarkable considering I’ve only known him for a few days. I decide not to dwell on that fact, because thinking about how sweet he is will get me in trouble.

“Thank you,” I say, loving the warmth against my bare legs and relishing in Nate’s body heat as he slips beneath the blanket. He grins at me as he reaches over and pulls my feet onto his chest. He rubs them, working out the dull ache there like it isn’t even a thing. A small sigh escapes my lips as I ignore my work and let my head rest against the ropes and enjoy the feeling of someone taking care of me. It’s been forever since I felt anything like it.

“So,” Nate says, grinning at me. “What are you doing down here?”

I take a deep breath and tap my chin with my index finger while I decide whether or not I want to tell him the truth.

“Let’s just say that there was some noise in the room next to mine. I was worried that if I stayed in there any longer that I’d get sucked into some strange bad porn vortex.”

Nate draws a breath through his nose, and as he continues rubbing my feet, his strokes have a little more pressure to them.

“Can I just say, without any personal agenda, that I’m really glad you broke up with that asshole?”

I nod and look down at my keyboard. I’m not really sure what to say to that.

“It’s fucking tacky to do that to anyone, let alone someone you…” Nate trails off, shaking his head. “Sorry, things like that just piss me off.”

“If it makes you feel any better, there was an over-the-top enthusiasm to the banging that made me think it wasn’t authentic. And the moaning was…theatrical.”

Nate laughs. “The pounding shows a lack of finesse. And I think it takes more talent to make a woman feel so good that she can’t make any noise at all.”

My cheeks flush as I look up at him, and his eyes are so intense when they look into mine. My breath catches as I remember that night I spent with him, the times when he made me feel so good that I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move, couldn’t make a sound. Having accomplished his mission of getting me all flustered, Nate changes the subject.

“What are you working on?” he asks, like he didn’t just set my world spinning.

I take a deep breath to steady my pounding heart. “Just a few quotes for some site work. I don’t usually take time off, and I’m really scared of falling behind. Just a day or two more of turnaround time can make the difference between a really happy customer and a really angry one.”

Nate nods, resting the back of his head against the hammock. “I thought one of the great things about being your own boss was getting to take time off whenever you wanted to.”

“Not when you have a small business,” I reply, laughing. Time off? Is he kidding? “Although it is kind of cool to be able to work from wherever I want.”

“Except your bedroom up there,” he says with a crooked smile.

“Except my bedroom.”

“Can I see what you’re working on?” He nods in the direction of my laptop.

“No,” I reply softly with a grin. I close my laptop’s lid. It wouldn’t be a big deal to let him see a few of my projects, but I’m way too self-conscious about my work and I’m worried about what I would do if he didn’t like my designs. Ridiculous as it may be, I feel like it would crush me a little.

If my reaction bothers him, he doesn’t let on. “Do you have any advice for someone just starting a business?”

I raise my eyebrows because I’m kind of surprised at his question. “Why, are you thinking about starting one?”

“The friend I met in DC before I came here, he wants me to partner up with him to design a line of outdoor gear.” Nate’s fingers lay still on my feet, and I miss the kneading immediately. I also notice the way his eyes are downcast when he talks about this venture, which is a good indicator that he isn’t too excited about it for whatever reason. And I want to know what that reason is.

“My first bit of advice is that you should probably be excited about your product if you have any hope at all of being successful selling it,” I tease, gently nudging him with my knee.

It takes a long while for his eyes to meet mine. “I am,” he says when he finally looks at me. “It’s just that my dad thinks it’s a waste of time. He’s not really being very supportive.”

“If he’s anything like my mom, he just worries about you. Back when they were younger, starting a business wasn’t as big of a gamble as it is now. It was a gamble, don’t get me wrong, but not like today. They don’t understand that we don’t have the options that they did. The corporate environment is so different now, and with every company cutting costs and maxing out their workforce, it’s not enough just to work hard and be the best. It’s difficult to move up. To move anywhere,” I tell him. “Sometimes you need to take things into your own hands. Or try to, at least.”

Immediately his expression softens, and instinctively I know that I’ve said the right thing. Nate gets back to work on my feet, and I take a deep breath and sigh as he hits a sore spot that needed some attention.

“I like my job,” he explains. “I just want to try something new.”

“I think you should do it. Do you have a name picked out?”

“Kyle—my friend—he likes Rocky Mountain Rec, but…I don’t know.”

“I like it too.” It doesn’t even take me ten seconds to start mentally configuring logo ideas, even though Nate hasn’t given me the slightest indication that he’s at all interested in my input. “It’s simple, it rolls off the tongue. Conveys the purpose of the company,” I say, finishing the sentence with a yawn.

Nate gives me a soft grin before he gently pats my foot. “C’mon,” he says, swinging his legs over the side of the hammock. Once he’s standing, he offers me his hand. I’m too tired to argue and too intrigued not to take it.

“Where are we going?” I let him pull me up. He takes my laptop, then walks over and shuts off the fireplace.

“Back to the house, to a porn-free room where it’s nice and quiet. You can sleep in my room tonight. I’ll take the floor. And tomorrow morning I’ll ask Mom to give you a new room.”

“You don’t have to do that,” I say, blinking my sandy, tired eyes.

“I know.” He smiles at me, and it’s such a beautiful sight that I just stand up and follow him into the main house.

I FOLLOW Nate through the kitchen, and the house is eerily quiet compared to how loud it usually is in here when the Wright clan is together. I do my best not to make any noise, so I tiptoe quietly across the floor because I’m worried about waking someone.

“I’m the only one who has a room down here,” Nate explains. He’s not exactly talking in his normal voice, and the softness in the inflection makes me smile. “No one can hear us.”

He leads me into the living room, with its movie-screen-sized television and wood beamed ceiling, then down a long hallway. Snapshots in vintage frames decorate the walls, and part of me wants to ask him to slow down so I can get a good look at them. But my eyes are heavy, and there’s time to look tomorrow.

“This is me,” Nate says, leading me through a door at the end of the hallway that’s slightly open. He reaches over and flips on the lights, and I grin when I see the inside of his room. I know he grew up here, and I was expecting bunk beds and posters of half-naked women; you know, typical teen boy stuff. But this room doesn’t look like it ever belonged to a teenager. Either Amy redid it after Nate went off to college, or he’s always had good taste.