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Authors: Heidi Medina

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BOOK: Made to Love
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I made it through my morning, and by one
o’clock I was at some obscure Mexican restaurant, a hole-in-the-wall that I
knew Reagan and I would go unnoticed at.  I hadn’t seen her since I’d left her
bed this morning, and as petrified as my new found feelings made me, they
didn’t stop the giddy anticipation of knowing she’d be walking through the door
at any moment. 

Giddy anticipation? 
I was totally
losing it.

I had just ordered drinks when I heard my
name.  I closed my eyes and threw up an urgent prayer that I was only imagining
things, and that it really wasn’t my mother, and that she hadn’t called my
name.

The good Lord must have been out because it
was indeed my mother.  And as if to prove He had a sick sense of humor as well,
she wasn’t alone. 

I feigned a smile as my mother arrived at my
table, Whitney Bradshaw in tow. 
What the hell was she doing here? 
 “Mother,
what a surprise.”   I stood, offering my cheek to my mother, who thankfully
appeared relatively sober. 

“Indeed,” my mother agreed.  “We’ve been
shopping, and decided to stop for lunch.  Whitney swears they have the most
delicious tamales here.  You remember Whitney, don’t you, darling?”

My heart lurched as Mom pulled out the only
remaining chair at my table, and motioned for me to take another from the table
behind us.  I cast my eyes upward. 
You’re kidding me, right?

I didn’t bother looking Whitney’s way as I scanned
the front of the restaurant.  My only hope now was that Reagan would be running
late and I would have a few extra minutes to send my mom and her unwelcome
guest packing. 

“He remembers me,” Whitney purred, her hand
tugging on my arm as they sat down.  I snatched my arm out of her grasp and
moved my chair away from hers and sat. 

“Mother, while this was a . . . .pleasant
surprise, unfortunately, I am meeting someone.  It’s work,” I hastily added,
lest she decide to stick around and meet this someone. 

Katherine waved her hand.  “Of course, we
won’t stay.  I just saw you and knew we had to stop and say hello.  Whitney so
enjoyed your time spent together the last time she was here.  In fact, she’ll
be in town for the next several days.  Why don’t the two of you make plans?” 
This said with a conspiratorial wink in Whitney’s direction.

I opened my mouth to adamantly refuse—my
irritation overruled politeness—when my attention was caught by the woman
making her way to the table.  I again pulled away, and hastily stood, but I
knew Reagan had seen my arm in Whitney’s clutches.  Some unnamed emotion
crossed her features as she cautiously approached the table, and then stopped,
standing uncomfortably behind Whitney’s chair.  She looked at me in question.

It was like a scene out of some low budget
comedy, designed to get laughs but falling short because of the sheer absurdity
of the situation.  Reagan was here, my mother was here, and my last one night
stand was here.  I really hoped God was enjoying the laugh at my expense.

I called upon every smooth talking skill I
possessed.  “Miss Andrews, thank you for joining me.  You remember my mother,
Katherine Preston.  She and her lunch companion are unfortunately on their way
out.”  I leaned down and took my mother’s arm. 

Katherine glanced at me from the corner of
her eye.  “Ah, yes.  I do remember you from our Hampton’s party a few weeks,
back.  A friend of Miss Wade’s, is that right?”  She looked from Reagan, to me
and back again, and continued, not waiting for a response.  “Please forgive our
intrusion.  Whitney’s family and ours are old friends, and I wanted to be sure
Nathan knew she was in town.  They always have such a good time together.”  My
mother reached down and picked up her bag, oblivious to the havoc she was
wreaking in those around her.  She leaned up and kissed my cheek.  “Do give her
a call, Nathan.”

She turned to Whitney, who had stood and was
standing entirely too close to me.  “Come, dear.  Let’s leave these two to
their work.”

I barely acknowledged their departure, my
gaze focused on Reagan, who had yet to move.  We stood their awkwardly for
several moments, and then, she abruptly turned and strode toward the door.

“Reagan!  Wait!”  I hurried after her,
finally catching up to her outside.  Thankfully, my mother was nowhere in
sight.  “Stop!”

She stopped and turned around to face me, the
sidewalk busy with an endless sea of people walking from one destination to the
next.   She didn’t speak, but her face had drained of color and a mixture of
hurt and confusion clouded her gaze.

“I’m sorry,” I breathed, willing to say
anything to erase the last five minutes.  “That was . . .” I trailed off,
unsure how much to give away.  But Whitney had put her hands all over me, and
Reagan wasn’t an idiot.  I opted for the simple truth.

“That was someone you were never supposed to
meet.”  I closed my eyes and shook my head, then opened them again and stared
at her.  “A mistake made and it meant nothing.  She means nothing.”

                She fiddled with the strap on her bag,
watching traffic as it snaked heavily down the street.  Her voice was soft when
she finally spoke.  “It’s okay.  Really.  I saw her and it was obvious. .. .I
don’t know.  I just overreacted.  I don’t have any right, and I know we aren’t
exclusive—“

“Of course we are.”

Her eyes met mine and I felt rather than saw
her quick intake of breath.  “We never talked about it, and you’re you and I’m
me and. . .” She shrugged, as if her explanation made perfect sense.  As if her
being her wasn’t enough for someone like me. 

Ridiculous.

I slipped a hand behind her head and brought
her to me.  “Don’t.  Don’t cheapen this, what we have.  You don’t want titles,
fine.  No titles.  But I’ll be damned if you aren’t exclusively mine.”  I
kissed her softly on the lips.  “Is that conversation enough for you?”  I
whispered.

She placed both hands on my face and kissed
me hard.  “Yes.”

I caught her hand and turned toward the
restaurant.  “Good.  Can we eat now?  I am officially starving.”

She laughed and we headed inside.

 

 

 

 

The following morning, I had just settled
into my office when Nancy’s voice buzzed over the intercom.  “Mr. Preston, a
Mr. Tyler Winston is here to see you.”

What in God’s name did he want?

I really didn’t have time for Tyler today,
but as Nancy had already made it known I was here, I couldn’t exactly pretend
otherwise.  “Send him in.”

“Nathan, good to see you, man.”  Tyler
strolled into my office, and the site of him had me curling my fist under my
desk and wondering again just what had gone on between him and Reagan when
she’d been there. 

My face revealed nothing as I indicated the
chair across from me.  “Tyler, what brings you here?  Aren’t you about to open
a hotel?”

“I am.  You’re coming to the grand opening,
right?  I’m sure you’ll find our accommodations to your liking,” Tyler winked,
his implication clear. 

I frowned, questioning how Elite had ever
gotten into business with such a jackass. “I’ll have to check my schedule.”  I
leaned back in my chair.  “But surely you didn’t come all this way just to
invite me to your opening.”

Tyler smoothed an imaginary wrinkle from the
sleeve of his suit coat.  “Of course not.  I am actually on my way to see
Isaac, but figured I’d stop in and see my old buddy first.”

I gritted my teeth, fighting the urge to
plant my fist in his face, and raised an eyebrow.  “Oh?  And what is it you
need to speak to Isaac about?”

“That amateur he sent me a few weeks ago left
some loose ends.  Nothing you need to worry yourself about,” he drawled, doing
his best to effectively dismiss me.   “I’m just gonna need her to come back out
and settle things before our opening next week.”

“She isn’t available.”  My tone held no room
for argument.

Tyler cocked his head.  “I think Isaac makes
that call, does he not?  She does work for him, right?”

My temper flared, but again my face revealed
nothing.  “She does,” I conceded with a nod.  “However, she is currently
assisting on one of my projects and unfortunately, I can’t spare her.”  I
shrugged in feigned apology.

Tyler lips curled into a derisive smirk.  “Well,
well,” he said softly, then leaned forward.  “I think I’ll talk to Isaac
anyway.  Like I said, there are several loose ends.”

“I don’t think so,” I replied, my voice low
in the silence of the room.  “She isn’t available.  If you need assistance, I
will arrange to send someone else.”

Tyler stared across my desk at me, weighing
my words, before standing up with a chuckle.  “Nathan, always a pleasure.”  He
exited without a backwards glance.

I unclenched my fist and stretched my
fingers.  I picked up the phone and dialed.  “George, I want to be notified the
minute Mr. Tyler Preston leaves the building.”   I’d give that bastard ten
minutes to exit and then I was going to go find him and remove him myself.

I was denied that pleasure when exactly eight
minutes later, George called to let me know Tyler had just signed out at the front
desk.  Knowing there was no way he’d been in to see Isaac and gone in eight
minutes, I let out a pent up breath and headed down to the eighth floor.

Chapter Twenty-Three

 

Reagan

 

                I suppressed a yawn as I sat in Grand Central,
barely aware of whatever it was Isaac was rambling on about.  Nathan had spent
most of last night showing me just how exclusively his I really was, and I had
a feeling no amount of lattes from the coffee cart were going to stave off my
exhaustion.

It was a good kind of tired.

I smiled behind my hand as I remembered last
night.  We’d finally gotten around to the kitchen table, and he’d made good on
his promise.  Nathan Preston had an insatiable appetite, and I was finding I
had one to match it.  Even now, mere hours after leaving his embrace, I was
already envisioning the moment I could return to it.  I couldn’t get enough. 

Bailey flagged me down and extracted a vague
acknowledgement from me for lunch, which he interpreted as a yes, and said he’d
be by to get me at one.  I usually ate lunch with Nathan, and knew I’d have to
make an excuse that Bailey would find believable, but I couldn’t worry about
that now. 

Nathan was lurking outside my office.

“Hello, handsome,” I whispered so only he
could hear, feeling playful.  I opened the door and closed it softly behind
him. 

I went ahead of him to walk to my desk, when
I felt his hands on my shoulders, and stopped.  He brushed aside my hair and
stepped close behind me, his lips trailing hot kisses down the side of my
neck.  I let myself relax against him, feeling his arousal against my ass.  I
closed my eyes and let my head fall back to his shoulder. 

“Nathan—“

“Sssshhhh,” he whispered, one arm snaking
around my waist to pull me closer, his other hand slipping inside the silk
blouse I was wearing to graze his fingertips across lace enclosed breast.  He
began turning around, bringing me with him, until we were facing my door. 

His hand never ceasing its assault on my
breasts, he slid his other one down from my waist and grabbed the hem of my
knee-length skirt and began bunching it up in his fist.  My mind screamed that
this was not the best time or place, but I pushed rational thought aside as his
fingers slipped into my panties and brushed my clit.  In seconds I felt the
familiar tightening in my lower belly, and I flattened both palms on my door
and braced myself as my legs began to tremble. 

“That’s it, baby.  Come for me.”  His breath
was hot against my neck as he kissed and licked his way up to my ear and tugged
on my earlobe with his teeth.  That was all it took, and I shattered.  I buried
my face against my shoulder and moaned.  He held me as the aftermath of my
orgasm left me spent, my head hanging between my outstretched arms, my
breathing labored and heavy. 

He withdrew his hands and straightened my
clothes, then turned me to face him.  “Now, get back to work,” he said, with a
small trace of a smile.

I rested my forehead on his chest.  I wasn’t
sure I could even walk, let alone focus on work.  We stood in silence for
several minutes before I looked up at him.  “I might be tied up for lunch.  I
may have kinda agreed to go with Bailey and some of the girls here and I’m not
sure I can cancel.  I think he already is getting suspicious.”

Nathan kissed the tip of my nose.  “No, it’s
okay.  Go.  I have some work to do anyway.  I’ll see you later?”

“Yes, you will,” I promised. 

 

 

 

I stared into the darkness, unable to sleep. 
Nathan was softly snoring behind me, his arm securely tucked around my waist. 
We were at his apartment again, and he’d fallen into an exhausted sleep hours
ago.  I hadn’t yet, though, and as I saw the first streaks of dawn stretch
across the wall beside me, I doubted I would get the chance. 

I was unsettled. ...anxious.  At some point
during the night, when he’d had me against the wall, the sex slow, burning and
erotically intimate, I had opened my eyes and drank in the sight of my arms
around his neck.  The sight of his blonde head burrowed in the wall beside
mine, his powerful arms wrapped around my thighs.  I heard his muffled grunts
and mindless words that fell from his lips as he lost himself in the moment
between us.  And I realized something as I took all that in.  Something
completely devastating and certainly not something I’d expected.  Something
that hit me like a ton of bricks, and yet was so clear it couldn’t be anything
but true.

I was no longer just falling in love with
Nathan Preston. 

I was already there. 

I loved Nathan. 
I loved him.

How had this happened?   It wasn’t supposed
to. 

How could I have been so stupid to let this
happen? 

I couldn’t deny it was true.  The realization
had hit me so strong that I’d bitten my tongue to keep from blurting it out,
right there against the wall.  And in the hours since, I’d wrestled with what
to do about this newfound knowledge.

Of course I couldn’t tell him.  For all the
time spent together, this was still new.  And there was still so much we didn’t
know about each other.  Loving Nathan changed things; it complicated things. 
It made things messy.  I had no delusions that he might love me back, and when
this thing between us inevitably ended, it would be me that would be left
picking up the shattered pieces of my broken heart. 

I wiped a silent tear that had fallen down my
cheek. 

Because I had no doubt that his leaving would
indeed break me.

 

 

“Guess what?”

I twisted my hair up on top of my head and
stared at Brooke through the vanity mirror, where she stood behind me in the
bathroom doorway.  We were getting ready for dinner with Gabby and Paul, and
she’d changed from her standard woe-is-me attire of sweatpants and a tank, and
was now wearing a mustard yellow sheath dress and brown heeled sandals. 

“What?” I questioned as I began applying
makeup.

“I think I found a job.”

I paused mid-eye and turned around.  “Are you
serious?  Where?”

She walked into the bathroom and sat on the
edge of the tub.  “It’s for a doctor.  He needs someone to kinda run the
office, book appointments, that kind of thing.” 

I turned back to the mirror and started in on
my eye again.  “So is this for sure, then?”

“I think so.  I have to meet with Dr.
Miles—that’s his name, Dr. Miles—I have to meet with him again tomorrow to
finalize everything, but yeah.  I think it’s a done deal.”  She leaned her
elbow on the vanity and watched as I continued applying makeup.  “I’m kinda
nervous, though.”

I rolled my eyes.  “You single-handedly ran
the thirteenth floor of Elite.  This doctor’s office will be a piece of cake.” 
I finished my makeup and yanked out the band holding up my hair.  “Good for
you, Brooke.  I’m happy for you.”

“Thanks, babe.   Speaking of Elite, Dr. Miles
knows Nathan, I think.  He didn’t elaborate but while we were talking about my
past work experience, he mentioned that he knew the Preston family.  Small
world, huh?  And can I be just shallow enough to admit that Dr. Miles is hot? 
Like teeth-melting hot.”

I cast a glance at her, while dragging a
brush through my hair.  “Brooke,” I began in warning.

“I know, I know,” she said, holding up her
hand.  “Too soon.  And I’m not that dumb, promise.  But seriously, Reagan.  The
man is swoon worthy.”

 

“I wanna hear details.  What kind of doctor
is he?”

Brooke delved into telling me how she heard
about the opening, and her subsequent interview as we headed down to Gabby’s.  
“The office isn’t completely ready yet so I won’t for another week or two, but
he’s gonna bring me in and show me the ropes, introduce me to the nurse he
hired, that sort of thing.  Like I said, I’m a little nervous, but excited,
too.  It’s a change.”

“You’ll do great.”  We entered the elevator
and I pushed the button for Gabby and Paul’s floor.

“No Nathan tonight?”

My cheeks flushed.   “He’ll be over later,” I
murmured.  I hadn’t told Brooke how I felt about Nathan, hadn’t told her much,
really, beyond the gratuitous ‘is he a good kisser’ and ‘what’s he like in bed’
details.  But the knowledge was gnawing at me.  It was like I expected him to
leave at any minute.  Everyone I loved—with the exception of Helen—did so,
sooner or later.  Why should he be any different?  

Brooke groaned.  “Great,” she wailed.  “An
evening spent binge watching Sons of Anarchy in my room, with the volume turned
up enough to drown the sounds of my roomie getting laid across the hall.  My
life sucks!”

I pushed aside my depressing thoughts and
laughed.  “Girl, you know I put those headphones in your room for that very
reason.” 

Brooke knocked on Gabby’s door and stuck her
tongue out at me.  “You’re so considerate.”

 

 

 

               

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