She's Like The Wind (Angel Sands 2)

But Ally knew that wasn’t what he was talking about. She could tell from the expression on his face. The stubborn, gruff daughter had lightened up, for as long as teenage hormones permitted.

As if the universe was listening to Ally’s thoughts, Riley’s phone started to ring. She pulled it out of her pocket, her eyes widening when she looked at the screen.

“Hi, Laura. Just a minute, let me take this in my room.” She walked over to Nate. “You’re up,” she said, putting the bottle of pink polish she’d been holding into his hands. “Two coats and a topcoat, okay? And don’t let her move until it’s dry.” Without waiting for a reply she put the phone to her ear again, resuming her conversation with Laura. “Yeah, that assignment was tough. I managed to find all the answers though. Which one are you having trouble with?” Her voice faded as she walked down the hallway, then disappeared altogether after she slammed her bedroom door shut.

Ally bit down a smile and looked at Nate, who was still hovering in the doorway.

“It’s okay. You don’t have to paint my nails. I can probably manage if I bend over enough.”

He looked at the bottle Riley had shoved in his hands. “It’s a nice color.”

“Riley chose it.”

He took a step inside then hesitated, looking over at Ally. “Is it okay if I come in?” he asked.

“Of course it is. It’s your house.”

“But it’s your room.”

His words made her feel warm. As though she finally belonged somewhere.

“Come in. It’s nice to have the company.”

He walked up to the bed, and looked down at her feet. “Let’s do this thing,” he said, sitting down in the space his daughter had vacated. “I don’t want to incur the wrath of Riley.”

“Do you even know how to paint nails?” Ally asked, trying to keep her voice even. It felt so intimate, having him here in the room when she was wearing only a tank and sleep shorts. God only knew how much more intimate it would feel once he touched her.

And if he painted her toes, he’d definitely hav

e to touch her.

She wasn’t sure how she felt about that.

“I used to paint Riley’s when she was a little girl,” Nate admitted. “She’d insist on having beauty nights when she stayed over.”

“Did you let her paint yours?” Ally asked.

Nate shook the bottle and unscrewed the lid. “I’m gonna plead the fifth on that one.” He reached out for her good foot, sliding his palm beneath her sole. She held her breath for a moment as he gently pulled it toward him, resting her heel on his leg. “You have soft feet for a runner,” he told her.

“I try to take care of them,” she said, attempting to ignore the way his leg felt under her foot. Warm and muscled. “Apart from going head first over rocks that is.”

He gave a little laugh. She liked the way it sounded. “Could have happened to anybody,” he said.

“Nope. I’m pretty sure it’s just me.”

He angled her foot toward him, and pulled the brush out of the bottle, wiping the excess on the edge. He frowned with concentration as he painted her nail with three strokes.

“You do know what you’re doing,” she said, surprised at his deftness. “Most guys I know would have covered half my skin as well as my nail.”

“I’m a man of many talents.” He finished painting the rest of the nails on her good foot and eased it off his leg, pointing it upright so the polish didn’t smudge. “So how was your day?” he asked her. “Get up to anything good?”

“Oh, I managed to kill two hundred evil soldiers, save thirty children and their orphanage, and then I had a little nap.”

“All that with a broken leg. Impressive.”

“How about you?”

“I made some coffee.” He said it deadpan, but there was a smile at the corner of his eyes that made her heart take a little gallop.