Defiance (The Protectors #9)(38)

“Feel okay?” he asked when he finished putting the bandage in place.

“Yeah,” I said quietly.

Nathan was still holding onto my hand, even though he was finished, and I found myself reluctant to pull free of his hold. He was the one to move first, and I suspected that was because he was starting to feel the same charged energy surrounding us.

“I’ll clean this up,” he said as he stood and then motioned to the small pile of vegetables. My senses cleared once he was out of my immediate reach, and I quickly closed up the first aid kit and returned it to the drawer while Nathan threw out the ruined vegetables and began washing the knife and cutting board. I’d cut enough vegetables that I could get started on the cooking and I did my best to ignore Nathan, even though his body was just inches from mine.

It was strangely comforting to be working side by side with him. I was most definitely in lust with him, but even with the desire simmering between us like a live wire, I still found myself watching his movements as he cleaned the dishes and then began wiping down the sink. He kept casting me glances, but didn’t say anything.

“You mind getting me the beef from the fridge?” I asked. Nathan nodded, and then he was moving to the refrigerator. I watched his eyes settle on the door for a moment and I knew what he was thinking. I was thinking it myself. How good it had been last night. I wondered if he was also thinking about how good it could be again. He cast me a glance over his shoulder, and I barely managed to hide my smile at the flush of color that stained his cheeks. When he returned to my side and handed me the bowl full of sliced beef, I had to remind myself why it would be a bad idea to let the bowl hit the floor and reach for him instead.

“Thanks.”

“Should I set the table?”

The idea of being that close to him again had me shaking my head. If we ate at the table, he likely would end up bent over it this time around. But before I could suggest that we eat in the living room, which had enough furniture to ensure we didn’t end up anywhere near one another, my watch vibrated and I heard my phone beep. I glanced at my watch and recognized the code immediately.

“Better set it for three,” I said as I turned the stove off so I wouldn’t burn the food while I greeted our unexpected guest.

“Someone’s here?” Nathan asked, his voice carrying an edge of tension.

“A friend,” I said. When he tilted his head at me, I knew what he was thinking. “Shut up, I have friends.”

His lips curled into a smile and I wanted to curse the interruption.

“Just…don’t freak out, okay?” I said as I went to the fridge and grabbed a bottle of beer.

“Freak out? Why would I-”

Nathan’s words were cut off when the front door opened. “You here, Vincent?”

“In here, Ev.”

I kept my eyes on Nathan and stifled a laugh when his mouth dropped open at the sight of our guest.

“Oh my God.”

“Everett, this is Nathan Wilder. Nathan, I’m guessing you don’t need the introduction, huh?”

But Nathan didn’t respond to me, nor did he acknowledge I’d even spoken. I couldn’t really blame him. After all, it wasn’t every day the former president of the United States walked into your kitchen.





Chapter 13





Nathan





“Oh my God,” I repeated stupidly, even as I automatically held out my hand to the man across from me. “Mr. President, it’s…it’s an honor.”

“Honor’s all mine, Mr. Wilder.”

I doubted that, but I was still too awestruck to say anything besides, “Call me Nathan, please.”

“Nathan, it’s a pleasure. Please, call me Everett.”

There was no fucking way I could call him that. I watched in stunned disbelief as Vincent handed the man a bottle of beer.

The former leader of the free world drank beer. And he twisted the cap off like every other guy in America.

And he somehow knew Vincent.

“Mmmm, stir-fry?” Everett said as he eyed the stove.

“Yep,” Vincent said, and then he was turning back to the stove and getting it going again.

“You’re not putting any of that tofu shit in it, are you?” Everett asked as he took a long pull from the bottle.

Holy hell, the president swore.

“Why yes, Everett, you may join us for dinner. And no, it’s beef.”

“Beef?” Everett said before letting out a low whistle. His eyes shifted to me and he said, “You must be special.”

His comment sent a rush of heat through me. Did he somehow know what had happened between me and Vincent? Fuck, had Vincent told him? My eyes shifted to the man next to me.

“He’s talking about the fact that I rarely eat red meat,” Vincent said calmly and then shot Everett a dark look. “Make yourself useful and set the table.”

“The table?” the older man said. “Wow, really special,” he quipped as he shot me a smile and then actually winked at me.

The former president of the fucking United States was taking orders from Vincent and he’d winked at me. What the hell alternate universe was I stuck in?

“You know the president?” I whispered to Vincent once Everett was out of immediate earshot.