Nixon (Raleigh Raptors 1)

“Am I on that list yet?” Nixon asked so casually I almost missed the weight to the question.

I glanced up at him as we walked, squeezing his hand. “After a treat like this, I’m likely to put you on whatever list you want.”

Nixon chuckled, shaking his head.

“What?” I asked when he didn’t let me in on the joke.

“It’s just funny,” he said. “That this is your treat.” He motioned to the bustling market. “When most girls in the past only wanted me to take them to Fendi or Louie for a day trip.”

I scrunched my nose. “Everyone has different tastes.”

He nodded. “True,” he said. “I don’t mind the finer things. But I don’t live for them either.”

“You do wear the hell out of an Armani suit,” I said. “But, I prefer you in Raptor purple and gold.”

Nixon pinched my hip. “You prefer the tights.”

I squealed at his play-assault, and smacked his butt like I was telling him to have a good game. “Who doesn’t love the tights?”

Nixon tucked me in close as we continued to peruse the market, and I leaned my head against his chest as we walked. “There is no way I’m going to top this tonight,” I said, sighing slightly.

“What?” he asked. “You were so sure it would beat my date earlier.”

“Well, yeah,” I said. “That was before you got all perceptive on me and nailed my happy place.”

A wide grin stretched across his mouth. “I’ll love whatever you have planned tonight.”

“We’ll see,” was all I could say.

Another hour at the market, and we’d left—me with nothing, Teagan with some new fabric for curtains, Roman with a vintage abstract canvas Teagan had helped him select, and Hendrix…well, Hendrix left with a brunette bombshell, and we hadn’t heard from him since.

Roman took Teagan back to her place, and Nixon and I went home, showered and changed, and were back on the road after a quick dinner, heading toward the date I’d had planned for him. After this morning, though, I worried it wouldn’t compare.

The outdoor venue was already packed, hundreds of locals covering the wide expanse of lush green grass spread before a massive stage.

“No way,” he said as we found a place near the back that was less crowded but offered a perfect view of the stage. “Royal Tusk,” he said, his eyes wide as he gazed down at me. “How did you know I loved them?”

I blew out a breath. “You’re always blaring it during your workouts. Especially that one song…” I chewed on my lower lip, searching my brain for the name of the song. “Aftermath?”

Nixon nodded before he scooped me up, lifting me off the ground to bring me to his level. “You’re incredible,” he said and crushed his lips on mine. “I didn’t know you were paying that much attention.”

I raked my fingers through his hair, never losing his gaze. “I want to know you, Nixon. In every way I can. Of course, I’m paying attention.”

Something heavy churned in his eyes, and emotion clogged my throat. His mention earlier today of the women in his past wanting to go to expensive places or use him for a status on a social media page or his ex trying to trap him with a baby that wasn’t real. Was that all he’d known? No wonder he’d been so harsh and distant when I’d first came to him.

“Thank you,” he said, his voice a whisper between us as he slid me down his body and faced us toward the stage.

I squeezed his hand as the opening act fired up, and I only let it go when Royal Tusk finally took the stage, and Nixon went wild with cheering. He nodded his head to the beat, mouthed the words to the songs, and constantly made sure we were touching in some way as we lost ourselves to the music.

And by the time we made it back to the car, my head was buzzing—that state between excitement and exhaustion. Before I knew it, Nixon was hauling me out of the car, cradling me to his chest as he walked us into his home.

“I’m sorry,” I said through a yawn as he laid me on the bed.

“For what?” he whispered.

“Falling asleep. I didn’t mean to.”

“Not only did we go all day at the market this morning, and all night at the concert, but you’re growing a human inside you, Lib. I’m pretty sure you’re entitled to fall asleep wherever you want.”

I reached for him, too tired to push off the luscious bed he’d dropped me on. He hurried out of his clothes, stripping down to nothing but a pair of tight but soft boxer briefs, and suddenly I was very much awake.

I did the same with my clothes as he came around to settle behind me, his usual spot for the night. “No T-shirt tonight?” he asked as I tossed my clothes on the floor, leaving me in nothing but my bra and panties.