Rescued Love (Sweetwater Valley #7)

CHAPTER 8

KIMBALL

I’m looking at the screen in front of me, trying to make graphics for the shelter’s social media, but I’m not seeing a damn thing. At least nothing that makes any sense to me. Nope.

But my thigh? That little bitch is burning as if it can still feel the press of Nathan’s leg to mine. It’s been far too long since he was sitting next to me at The Goose for me to still be experiencing this phantom sensation. Hell, I’ve slept twice.

“The most Monday of all Mondays,” I mutter while closing my eyes and leaning back in my chair.

Normally, this is a part of my job I love. Not only am I promoting the shelter, but I’m putting the animals who need homes out there in front of people who can make their little fur dreams of love and forever come true.

And now I can’t even do it without thinking about Nathan.

What is wrong with me?

Nothing. You like him. Get a grip.

My fucking subconscious is not helping at all right now. That doesn’t mean the little voice doesn’t have a point, but I’m nowhere close to accepting the truth of it.

He can be the sexiest man I’ve ever met, and I can be wildly attracted to him. That doesn’t mean I have to forget how he was a dick to me.

He wasn’t like that to you the other night. He didn’t even sneer.

The look of remorse and guilt he had on his face when he walked up to the table swims through my memory. I swear my inner thoughts are a bitch. This isn’t fair.

It’s not like he apologized for his treatment of me. Wouldn’t sincere regret come with an apology?

How was he going to do that at a table full of people he doesn’t really know?

I stand up so abruptly that my chair spins out from behind me and smacks against the wall with a loud thud. “Nope,” I hiss out, “I’m not having this conversation with myself. I’m going to look unhinged.”

As I glance around the room, which is still, thankfully, empty, I let out a small chuckle. The man has me tied up in knots and acting totally off my rocker. Not a good look for someone who is supposed to be in charge.

My stride is determined as I leave my office and head toward where the animals are. I know exactly what to do to get my mind off Nathan and, hopefully, back on track. I’m sure he’ll creep back in later considering he hasn’t been far from my mind since the day I met him.

Within moments I’m standing in front of Midnight’s kennel and she’s looking at me with wide eyes that are far too knowing for a kitten. I swear she knows I need her instead of the other way around right now.

When I scoop her up and snuggle her against me, she nuzzles and starts to let out the smallest and most contented purr. A modicum of the tension I’m carrying leeches from my body with the press of her furry body against mine.

This.

This is the power these animals have, and they don’t even know it. It’s also why it breaks my heart to see them discarded or left to live a life that is less than they deserve. The way they give love so freely, without conditions or expectations is something to be protected and nurtured.

“I needed this,” I whisper softly against Midnight’s fur.

I shouldn’t get attached to this kitten, but it’s a little late already. I was attached the moment she arrived in the shelter.

I sigh and let my shoulders relax and I swear Midnight follows right along with me. I have no doubt that she could feel the tension running through my body. It didn’t frighten her or cause her to pull away from me, she still went out on a limb and gave me what I needed without hesitation.

“I love that you trust me, furball,” I murmur. With a sigh, I let the rest of my thoughts pass my lips, “I wanted to sit on his lap the other night. Isn’t that strange? He was so mean to me when I first met him, but then at The Goose it looked like he wanted to apologize. Should I accept his apology if he ever gives it to me?”

Midnight purrs louder. Should I take that as a yes or a no? Who fucking knows.

“I’m not sure what the purr means,” I keep right on talking to her, “but I’m going to take it as a yes. I’ve never been one to hold a grudge, you know.” I think for a moment and then correct myself, “That’s not entirely true. I do hold a grudge against people who are running horrible puppy mills where they don’t care about the animals and people who run dog fighting rings. Those people can burn in the deepest circle of hell for all I care.”

Midnight pulls back a little and looks up into my eyes. If I didn’t know better, I swear she’s looking at me with agreement in her gaze. Which, I know, isn’t possible.

“Yeah, you have the same grudges I do.” She lets out a loud meow and snuggles back against me and I giggle softly, not wanting to disturb the way she’s curled up against my chest too much.

My back goes straight when I hear a masculine chuckle coming from behind me. “I think those grudges are completely justified,” a voice I recognize, and have been dreaming about, much to my chagrin, says with amusement in his words.

I spin around and gape at the man standing in my shelter, the last place I would expect him to be. My mouth opens and closes a few times, my brain sluggish to understand exactly what I’m looking at.

Nathan.

He’s here.

Standing right in front of me.

Eyeing me and the kitten in my arms like we’re precious.

“Uh,” very smartly comes from the back of my throat before I swallow hard and shake my head. “Wh-what are you doing here?”

Yeah, that didn’t sound much better, but at least they were words. Not well put together words, but words. I let out an annoyed huff.

But I’m not annoyed at him being here. No, a zing of excitement goes through me at him being here. I’m annoyed at myself because I can’t seem to keep it together when he’s around.

During our first meeting I could barely get my mind to function and defend myself. Honestly, I did a piss poor job of it, and it showed.

Then the other night at The Goose I was practically mute. Now, I’m not sure that was really all my fault, but it certainly was his considering his leg was pressed against mine for most of the night.

How is a girl supposed to keep it together in such circumstances?

“I’m here to see you,” Nathan’s voice is deep and filled with a longing that pulses in my own body like it’s answering his call. He steps closer to me, close enough to touch. His fists clench and then release and I know, just know, he wants to reach for me but is holding himself back. “I came to apologize. You didn’t deserve the shit I accused you of when we first met.”

He runs his fingers through his hair, messing up the strands and causing them to stand straight up instead of being styled the way they were moments ago. He looks sexier with his hair messed up, and I wasn’t even aware it was possible.

This is how I saw him the other day—his hair mussed and wearing jeans and a t-shirt. He looks just as good today as he did then.

The other night at the bar, he mentioned he’s a lawyer. I’ve been trying to picture him in suits, but it’s not easy for me, not after seeing him dressed so casually. I’m sure he can pull off a suit, so much so it would probably have my tongue flopping out of my mouth, but it’s hard to imagine him wearing one.

There’s something so right about what he’s wearing right now. Effortless. Easy.

Mine.

What the fuck?

I blink at Nathan a few times, my mind whirling with a realization that is beyond dangerous, and not just because the first impression he gave me was not a favorable one. This isn’t his home.

He’ll leave.

With a shake of my head, I swallow hard, Nathan’s eyes so full of hope. “It’s okay,” I rasp, the words being forced from my throat.

“No,” he intones, “it’s really not.” His shoulders slump, his lean body deflating with something like shame written all over his face. “It wasn’t even about you, and I hate to admit it because you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. I watched you for a few moments when I came around the house from the barn after hearing you pull up.”

My eyes widen at his confession and my heart starts to pound in my chest. When was the last time someone called me beautiful? Sure, I’m cute, in a ‘I love animals, and I live in a small town’ sort of way, but beautiful?

Wow.

“Then I saw the logo on your truck and fear for Grandpa took over.” He shakes his head, looking at me with sadness in his eyes. “I’m a criminal defense attorney,” he states, his eyes taking me in expectantly and I nod because I do remember it being talked about the other night. “I mentioned the other night how I’m vacation, but that’s not entirely true.”

My face scrunches up with confusion. I’m not sure if he’s changing the subject or if this is related. Of course, the way his subtle spicy scent wraps around me isn’t helping. “Huh? You’re not on vacation?”

He smirks like he knows the way he’s affecting me. If only that were enough to stop my reaction. If fucking only.

“Vacation implies,” he pauses like he’s thinking of how he wants to put it, “a choice and a plan. I didn’t plan to take this time off. It was kind of forced on me,” he gives me a small sheepish smile, his voice laced with a little embarrassment and shame.

“It was forced on you?” Well, I guess repeating him is better than not being able to form coherent sentences; even if they’re not my own. I guess. “I’m sorry,” I shake my head, “I don’t think I’m understanding what that has to do with me being out at the sanctuary and the accusations you made. I’m not,” I huff out a breath, frustration and the hurt the inflicted clawing at me and making me start again, “I would never do anything to put the animals in danger out there. Mr. Jacobson is doing good work. I want him to have those animals, and I want to help him any way I can.”

“I know,” Nathan whispers, his face contorted in pain. “I made horrible assumptions about you based on how I expect people to treat each other and the case I was working on before my mentor and boss decided I wasn’t able to overcome my bias and personal feelings about the client.”

Dread curls in my gut and I find myself taking a small step closer to Nathan. The need to comfort him is screaming at me, but I resist. I can’t comfort him; not yet.

Is this just going to be a weak attempt to excuse his actions? That won’t work for me.

“I can’t say a lot because it would be unethical, but the client is accused of running a very successful Ponzi scheme,” he tells me softly, his eyes begging me to understand.

If I were a cartoon, a light bulb would magically appear over my head and light up. I do understand, somehow. It even makes sense, but I have to make sure I’m right and ask, “And the people he swindled were older? Like Mr. Jacobson?” He gives me a pointed look and I roll my eyes while adding, “Allegedly.”

“Allegedly,” he echoes and nods curtly.

Nathan clenches his jaw, and his hands fist again, but this time it’s in anger. Somehow, I know his anger isn’t directed at me. He’s pissed about his client.

“I would think you have to defend people all the time where you don’t, personally, agree with them committing the crimes they’re accused of, if they are guilty.” I’m sure it can’t be easy. People who are guilty want to get out of trouble just as much as people who are innocent; I’m sure some even more. “Was this different just because of the victims?”

He shrugs one shoulder and shuffles a little bit closer. I freeze when his hand reaches for me, but he doesn’t make contact. Instead, he runs his hand over Midnight’s back.

Fuck, I had forgotten she was even in my arms.

“I don’t know how to explain it. I’ve been able to separate myself from the innocent or guilty part of the job and focus on the law and accomplishing my goal which is winning the case. I couldn’t this time,” his voice sounds far away, like he’s not really in front of me, as his hand pets Midnight. His focus snaps back to me and I suck in a sharp breath. “It was even worse because my rival, a guy I went to law school with and have competed against for years, was put on the case with me. He’s slimy and loves to kiss the client’s ass.”

My eyebrows shoot up to my hairline, disbelief filling my voice, “You’re still competing against someone you went to law school with?”

He sighs and grips the back of his neck as his cheeks pink a little bit in embarrassment. “We’ve both been trying to become a partner at the firm and started there after being interns.” He shakes his head and huffs out an unamused laugh, “It’s ridiculous and I know it, but when you work in an environment that fosters that kind of competition, it’s easy to buy into it.”

“I can understand that,” I murmur.

I want to wrap my arms around him and give him a hug. It looks like he could use it. I hold off because we’re not done with this conversation.

“I was distracted and frustrated with the case,” he goes on like he knows that he hasn’t given me quite enough reason to move past our first meeting. “It wasn’t going unnoticed either. I was told to take time off and that it wasn’t really a choice.”

My voice is gentle as I push, “And you thought you’d come see your grandpa and make sure no one is taking advantage of him?”

“I needed to know,” he agrees with my assessment. “Then I saw your truck and made some major leaps in terms of why you were out there. I should have asked and then listened. I shouldn’t have projected all my bullshit onto you. I’ve learned about how you’ve helped out Grandpa and the sanctuary. I’m sorry.”

He takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly; it makes me wonder if he’s not used to apologizing. That almost has me giggling. Almost.

I take him in, his slumped over posture and sad eyes. They still suck me in, don’t get me wrong, but I can see how much he regrets what he said to me. It’s written all over his face.

While I might not agree with how he handled it, I can understand where he was coming from. At least he’s being upfront about it and not trying to allow that to be an excuse without owning his own behavior and choices.

That means something.

“I’m not out to bring your grandfather down,” my voice is stern, needing him to understand and hear me. He nods, a look of defeat on his face. “I think it’s amazing what he does, and he’s helped me when I’ve gotten wind of animals who needed a home when there’s no way I could help give it to them. Sweetwater Valley has his back and so do I. I always will,” I soften my voice with my last words, wanting him to feel my sincerity, not just hear it.

“I know. I fucked up. He told me how you’ve helped him.” He winces and adds, “Ansel and Dixon mentioned it as well.” He straightens up slightly, “I told Grandpa about our first meeting. He was not happy.”

The look on his face has me giggling. His brown eyes light up as he looks at me like he’s trying to memorize my face. It’s both touching and a little scary.

But not in a creepy guy kind of way. Nope. It’s scary in a way that tells me just how deeply I could fall for this man.

“I accept your apology.”

His eyes widen and before I realize what is happening, his arms are wrapped around me, and I’m being crushed against his chest. His very firm, but lean chest. He’s not a bulky man, but there is a strength about him that I’m not ready to admit that I crave.

Midnight lets out a yowl that has Nathan jumping back while I coo at the kitten in my arms. The glare she shoots him has me biting my lip to stop myself from laughing. The look of pure horror on his face isn’t helping matters.

“Shit,” he groans.

“She’s fine,” I assure him.

He reaches out to pet her again, but she hisses and backs further into me. Before either of them can stop me, I press the kitten against his chest and his hands come up to support her without really thinking about it.

Midnight turns her glare in my direction, but I just shake my head. “You know you’ll forgive him because you’re a slut for ear scratches.”

I swear she huffs at me while Nathan immediately starts to give her those ear scratches. Her eyes close with contentment before she starts to purr.

“Animals are easy,” he rasps. “They’re always so forgiving, even when they shouldn’t be.”

“It’s one of the things I love about animals,” I admit. “But the thing is, they give that love without being able to consider the consequences until it’s too late.” My heart aches because sometimes an animal can’t find a new home because of the way they’ve been treated in the past. “If their fear of how they’ve been treated teaches them not to trust, it makes my life so much harder. Sometimes, impossible,” I whisper.

Nathan’s arm wraps around my shoulders and tucks me, gently, into his side. When his lips press against my temple, I freeze.

Not because I don’t like it. No. Because I like it too much.

And that might just be a problem.