In Over Her Head: An Anchor Island Novel by Terri Osburn (reading eggs books .TXT) 📗

and the locals are already talking about trying it out.”

She stopped chewing. “They are?”

Nick didn’t know why she was surprised. “Of course, they are. The Marina was dated but still popular before the remodel, and Will and Randy are practically royalty on the island so anything they touch gets plenty of support. Plus, they’ve heard about you and what you plan to offer.”

“What have they heard?”

“That you’re a fancy big city chef.” He stabbed a Brussels sprout with his fork. “And that your food is amazing.”

She nearly choked on her tuna. “How would they hear that? I haven’t even served anything yet.”

“You said you’ve been tasting dishes with the staff.” Nick cut his last piece of tuna. “They must be talking and word travels fast in this little village.”

Lauren didn’t need to know that Nick had been doing some talking of his own, dropping a hint here and there about her skills. Now that he’d had a full meal, he was relieved to find his preliminary reviews had been accurate.

“I was already nervous about all the press Will has lined up.” She dropped the fork and knife onto her plate and reached for her wine again. “Now I have the locals expectations to live up to? Yeah. No pressure.”

As she emptied her glass, Nick rose from his chair and took the glass from her hand. “You’re going to be fine.”

“I’m going to stress the hell out is what I’m going to do.”

Taking her hands, he pulled her to her feet. “Then it’ll be my job to get you unstressed.”

Skepticism showed in her eyes when she said, “How are you going to do that?”

Nick reached for the front of her shirt. “One button at a time.”

Nick Stamatis was very good at relieving stress. By the time he’d carried her to the bedroom—which was a first for her—Lauren could barely remember her own name let alone think about the restaurant. As promised, he’d taken his time, despite her nearly begging for him to hurry. He’d ignored her pleas, preferring instead to explore her body as if she were some uncharted territory that he’d recently discovered. By the time he’d touched, teased, and tasted every inch of her, Lauren’s mind had turned to mush.

“Feeling better?” he asked as she lay sprawled across his chest.

As if all of her moaning and purring and the two times she’d screamed his name hadn’t given him a clue.

“Much better.” She turned her head to see his face. “You were very thorough.”

“You’re welcome.” Nick played with a lock of her hair. “I like you, Riley.”

She certainly hoped so considering their current circumstances. “Thanks. You’re growing on me too.”

“Do you ever see yourself having children?”

Not the question she expected. Lauren rolled into a sitting position and pulled the sheet up to cover her breasts. “Where the hell did that come from? I thought you didn’t do relationships.”

They were in this bed for that very reason. Because neither of them did relationships. Which sounded like a contradiction, but the sex came with an understanding. That’s all it was. Just sex. If he’d changed his mind…

“I’m not asking you to have my babies,” Nick said, but the expression on his face didn’t match the words coming out of his mouth. The expression said this matters. That this was more than two adults enjoying each other. “Seriously,” he said, pulling her back to him. “It was just a question. Looking at those old family pictures brought back memories and I just wondered what it must be like to have kids now. The world is so different from when we were young.”

Lauren wasn’t exactly an old woman. “What do you mean when we were young? I’m only thirty-one. It’s not like video games and the internet were invented in the last few years.”

Nick lifted an arm to rest above his head and she was temporarily distracted by how hot he was.

“Well, I’m thirty-six and I remember when kids actually played outside. And read books made of paper.”

“Then you’re ancient,” she said, and earned a gentle bite on the shoulder. “To answer your question, no, I don’t. I pretty much raised my brother. That was enough for me.”

Dark eyes widened. “Really? You don’t want kids?”

She didn’t say that. He asked if she ever imagined herself having children. She would not repeat her mother’s mistakes and have a kid without a husband. A husband meant marriage. Marriage required trust. Lauren would have to find someone who wouldn’t cut and run when things got tough, or worse, play the nice guy role until the deal was done, and then start using his fists every time something didn’t go his way.

Growing up around violence left a mark on your soul that never went away. She wouldn’t do that to herself, or to an innocent child. But growing up poor wasn’t a walk in the park either and she had no doubt if left to raise a child on her own, she’d fall right back into the cycle that had plagued her own childhood.

Even if she found a Mr. Mom who didn’t mind bearing the brunt of child-rearing while she worked the hours being a chef required, Lauren would have to trust that he’d stick around for the duration. In her experience, men didn’t do that.

Keeping the truth to herself, she said, “I take it you do?”

Nick went quiet as his eyes settled on something behind her. Finally, he said, “I don’t know. I didn’t plan on it.”

One ambitious bout of sex with her could not have changed his mind on something so important.

“Are you having a midlife crisis?” she asked.

His eyes caught hers. “What?”

“Well…” She glanced up, doing a quick calculation. “If you live to be seventy-two, then you’re in the middle right now.”

A smile of pure joy split his face. “I could live to be seventy-two. Or maybe eighty-two.”

“Why not go for ninety-two?” she said with a laugh.

With one swift move, he flipped her onto her back and hovered above her. “I think I