“Really.” It wasn’t a question.
“Trust me, I don’t feel for her that way, and it’s mutual. I remember telling you the same thing during that summer I took you guys up in my plane.”
“I didn’t believe you then, and I only half believe you now. Anyway, I’m not worried about Kris.” Kris, Nate trusted one hundred percent. Teague? Not so much, whether it was with his sister or the love of his life.
“I know. But the way you feel about Kris? That’s how I feel about Sky,” Teague said. “So with all due respect, you can snap at me all you want, but nothing you say or do is going to drive me away. I understand you want to protect your sister, but she’s a grown woman capable of making her own decisions. I also want you and me to be on good terms—both for Sky’s sake, and because you seem like a decent guy when you’re not snapping at me. If I hurt her for any reason—and I swear, I’d never willingly do so—you can come at me with all you got, but for now, let’s shelve the overprotective-brother routine, yeah?”
Nate could count on one hand the number of times he’d been this surprised. He was torn between two reactions: 1) break Teague’s face, as he’d said he would do earlier, or 2)…
A laugh rumbled out of his chest, quietly at first and then loud enough that the trio walking ahead of them glanced back with curiosity.
A grin split Skylar’s face when she saw what was happening, and Kris’s eyes twinkled before she said something that diverted the other woman’s attention.
“You’re okay,” Nate said, clapping Teague on the back. He still didn’t like the guy, but at least his sister’s boyfriend had balls. That deserved some respect.
Plus, it didn’t escape Nate’s attention that Teague’s words sounded quite familiar. He had given Kris’s father his version of the same speech four years ago.
By the time he and Kris returned to their hotel that night, Nate had forgotten all about Teague. They’d spent the day with Skylar—first lunch, then a spontaneous mini-golf excursion followed by dinner and drinks.
Kris had grimaced at the mini-golf idea but followed through with it like a champ. The sight of her handling a putter had been hot as hell.
“I recommend you take up mini-golf as a hobby,” Nate said, watching Kris undress with hooded eyes. “Preferably in one of those short golf skirts.”
“In your dreams,” Kris teased. Her ring flashed beneath the lights as she unhooked her bra and the scrap of black lace drifted to the ground.
Nate hardened immediately, both at the sight of her breasts and the ring on her finger. It was a five-carat, pear-shaped Harry Winston diamond—Kris’s dream ring, according to both her mother and Courtney.
After years of making up for lost time, Gemma and Kris had developed a true mother-daughter bond, and Courtney was one of Kris’s oldest friends. As a result, Nate trusted their intel implicitly.
Good thing Scott West’sTriple Vendetta,featuring none other than Nate Reynolds, had been such a blockbuster hit. Enough that it’d gotten the franchise green light, and Nate had signed a four-movie contract with enough zeroes to make his eyes water. That, plus the endorsement deals that flooded in after Nate was branded Hollywood’s hottest new star, made purchasing the five-carat diamond a drop in the bucket.
He’d popped the question in Italy, after he and Kris snuck off to the Amalfi Coast when the principal production for theTriple Vendettasequel in Rome wrapped. After years of exposure therapy, Nate had gotten over his fear of flying. He got nervous whenever there was turbulence, and his stomach hitched with each ascent, but that was nothing compared to his earlier aerophobia.
Nate still remembered every detail of the proposal—the dress Kris wore, her expression when he’d dropped to one knee, the sound of the waves lapping against the shore in the distance when she said yes and tackled him with a kiss.
It’d been the best night of his life.
Kris climbed into bed and snuggled into his arms.
“If you’re really nice to me,maybeI’ll wear a short golf skirt during our honeymoon,” Kris murmured. “As long as we don’t actually play golf.”
Nate chuckled and stroked her soft skin, her scent burrowing into his nose and shooting straight down to his cock. “Trust me, golf is nowhere on my honeymoon itinerary.”
Their wedding wouldn’t happen for at least another two or three years. They’d both agreed to a long engagement for multiple reasons, including Nate’s crazy filming schedule and Kris’s equally busy calendar juggling her roles as Director of Fundraising for MentHer and board president for the Joanna Reynolds Scholarship Foundation for low-income high school students.
Kris and Nate had established the foundation last year. He’d contributed some money, but the bulk of its funding came from Kris’s trust fund, which had paid out when she turned twenty-three—despite his threats, her father had never changed the terms after he found out about Kris’s scheme to frame Gloria for infidelity. While they’d both had a hand in shaping the foundation’s goals, hiring its staff, and building out the logistics, Kris was the one who kept it running like a well-oiled machine. In fact, she’d been the one who’d suggested starting a scholarship fund for high schoolers whose families couldn’t afford college in memory of his mother. That was the night Nate knew, deep within his gut, that this woman was his forever.
He’d known it for a while, but that was the first time it struck him to his core. So much so, he almost shed a tear when he’d gruffly agreed the foundation was a good idea.
Nate had called Gemma and Courtney the next day and bought the engagement ring the day after that.
“How are you feeling about your parents’ wedding?” he asked, sinking deeper into the pillows and tightening his grip around Kris’s shoulder.
That was another reason they were delaying their wedding. Gemma and Roger were getting married first, and Nate wasn’t stupid enough to put Kris through Wedding Mania twice in a short period of time. He liked his balls attached to his body, thank you.
“Good.” Kris hitched a nonchalant shoulder, but he could tell she was getting choked up. “We knew it was coming.”
Indeed. Roger and Gemma had danced around their relationship for a frustrating two years before they bit the bullet and officially started dating. They had progressed at warp speed since then, and their wedding was in two months.
Nate, in an ill-advised slip of the tongue, had joked to Roger that he’d gotten the whole thing backwards. You were supposed to date and get marriedbeforehaving a child, not after.
To be fair, Nate had been jet-lagged and delirious from seventy-two hours of no sleep, but Roger’s menacing scowl reminded him once again why he was an action movie guy and not a comedian.
“It’s nice to see my parents together, though,” Kris murmured. “Two decades is a long time to go without your other half.”
Ain’t that the truth. Nate went crazy at the thought of two days without Kris, much less two decades. His out-of-town shoots were the worst. Luckily, they’d perfected the art of long-distance, and sometimes Kris found the time to sneak away and surprise him on set.
“It’s funny,” Kris said. “My study abroad friends always say our year in Shanghai changed their lives, but not me. I met some great people in China, yeah, but it was the summer after that that was the game-changer. Meeting you. Meeting Mom. It was almost like fate.”
“Not almost.” Nate brought her hand up to his mouth and kissed her knuckles. “Itwasfate.”