Stay (Dunham series #2) by Moriah Jovan

out on me for months and now you’re wantin’ to get
married?”
    She flinched.
    “ Hell , no, I don’t wanna get married,” he
said. “Particularly to you . An’ you don’t wanna get
married. Particularly to me . What if I’d said yes?”
    “I don’t know,” she murmured. “I just—”
    Nash reached into the closet and caught her hand,
tugging her out and sitting on the edge of the bed. He pulled her
down onto his lap so she straddled his hips. He wrapped his arms
around her and stroked her back. “What happened? Somethin’s had you
all knotted up for months.”
    Vanessa’s mouth tightened because she wanted to cry
again, but how low had she sunk that she’d cry over a man—a
boy—she’d never spoken to, while being held by her lover?
    “Um, the— Let’s just call it the fish that got
away.”
    He started. “Taight?”
    She huffed. “No! Not Sebastian. With him, it was
like— Well, like you and me. Only shorter. And public.”
    “Then—”
    “I don’t want to talk about it, Nash.”
    He pursed his lips. “Does this mean I’m not gettin’
laid right now?”
    “I’m going to Laura’s, so I need to make some
cookies.”
    He said nothing for a moment, then, “You been doin’
an awful lot of that lately.” Yes, she had. The ladies over at
Laura’s house were beginning to worry and wonder, too. He sighed.
“Then I guess it’s back to chess, but damn, Hilliard’s beginnin’ to
bore me stupid.”
    That was a lie. He was waiting for Knox to wake up
from his nap so they could get back to the game they’d had going
for days—
    “Oh. Your Raumschach boards came in today’s
delivery.”
    Nash’s face lit up and he practically dumped Vanessa
off his lap to jump into his clothes. “He know yet?”
    That made Vanessa chuckle in spite of herself. Two
years now, any weekend when Knox could spare a minute away from inn
business, they’d played chess, both men on equal footing, neither
able to get the advantage of the other. At first, Knox had thought
playing chess with an uneducated country music stud from the wilds
of Montana would waste all of five minutes. Nash had never found a
casual player who could beat him, so he’d assumed Knox had no more
skill than any other opponent he’d ever had. They were brilliant,
perfectly matched, very competitive—and they were both happy to
have an equal to play without getting involved with chess
clubs.
    “Going out to Rocky Ridge?” Knox asked an hour
later, shuffling into the kitchen as she pulled the last cookie
sheet from the oven, dodging her scurrying kitchen and waitstaff
like the pro she was.
    Vanessa didn’t bother to answer; she only made
peanut butter cookies for one reason.
    Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him wipe his
hand across his mouth, as if troubled. “Ah, Vanessa. About this
morning— Eric didn’t mean—”
    “Did you see your chess boards?”
    “Yeah, thanks but—”
    “Probably better go find Mister Thompson before he has a fit.”
    “Vanessa, he only meant—”
    Her mouth tightened.
    “It’s just that your mother and sister—”
    “Stop. Just stop talking. Right now.”
    “But he—”
    “Knox! Shut up! You can go on back to Justice and
gossip and theorize all you want, but I don’t want to hear it. I
don’t want to know. And don’t make Alain yell at you again or I’ll
kick you out of the kitchen completely.”
    Knox sighed, but then winced in pain when he took a
step. She looked at him fully then and for the first time since
he’d taken up temporary permanent residence to recuperate from his
injuries, she noticed how pale, how thin and gaunt he looked.
    “I am apparently not feeding you well enough.”
    His mouth twitched. “I don’t dare get corn-fed
around you and your knives. As far as I know, human is the only
meat you haven’t put on the table yet and you’re as likely to serve me for dinner as porcupine.”
    “With a dandelion and mustard greens salad under a
rose-petal and blackberry