Not My Type: Adele Ch. 03

I opened my mouth to argue, but Nate rushed forward.

"Let me worry about it, okay? I'm perfectly capable of being responsible for my own actions. You don't need to protect me."

"I need to protect myself," I whispered without thinking.

Nate chuckled warmly and kissed my forehead. "Not from me," he promised.

I weakened. It only took one step to fit myself against Nate and the solid comfort of his body. His arms went around me, as I knew they would. He rested his cheek against my hair.

"Oh sweetheart, what did he do to you?"

The question burned and the answer caught deep in my chest and wouldn't be forced out. If I gave the words the opportunity to break free I feared they would pour endlessly from me and I'd be unable to stop them from bringing back years of pain and torment with them.

"He betrayed you," Nate murmured. His hands stroked my back gently. I nodded into his neck.

"He lied to you, made you promises he had no intention of keeping."

It wasn't a question. I nodded again.

"The funny thing is," I croaked as my voice broke in my throat. "The funny this is that wasn't what hurt the most. The betrayal, the lies, the broken promises.... I almost think I could have lived with them, if only he hadn't ignored me."

Nate stilled and I squeezed him harder around the middle, so thankful to have something to hold on to. "When we met he charmed me, seduced me, married me, and then promptly forgot all about me." I nestled further into the warmth of Nate's body and the solid comfort he so generously offered.

"In the beginning he made me believe I was his world and then suddenly I wasn't anymore and I don't know why. I don't know what I did wrong. It was like I'd become invisible to him and nothing I did or said changed that." I shuddered with the memory of it and for a brief moment the loneliness crashed back around me until Nate kissed the top of my head.

"Oh sweetheart, I'm so sorry."

"There's nothing for you to apologize for."

I could feel Nate smile into my hair. "I know, but I still feel like I should -- on behalf of my gender perhaps. I don't suppose he ever apologized."

My mind flitted back to that final confrontation with Harry, that last day when I'd railed and stormed and announced our marriage was over. Even then with me flying in his face he seemed unfazed -- he'd looked through me rather than at me.

"No, he never did."

"Asshole," Nate muttered, surprising me again with the vehemence of his invective. I drew back to look up into Nate's face. His expression was grim, his brown eyes so dark they were almost black.

"Is it wrong that I'd very much like to punch him in the face right about now?"

I laughed. Nate could do it too, I knew. Harry never was much of a scrapper. He rarely got that passionate over something.

"Not wrong," I conceded, finally smiling. "But considerably un-reverend-like."

Nate's beautiful mouth twisted in a grimace which was somewhat tempered by the humour-filled creases at the corners of his lips and eyes.

"Pity that. He deserves it."

I couldn't agree more, but I was weary of the topic. I promised myself I was going to try to let all the hurt Harry caused go -- he'd taken enough from me -- my virginity, a decade of my life, my faith in the institution of marriage, my hopes for a family... he'd taken so much and I didn't want to give him any more. Especially not any of my precious moments with Nate. He and I were cocooned snugly in the little white house, buried in snow, safe from the wind and the world. I wanted to forget Harry forever. He didn't belong between Nate and me.

I glanced up to find Nate watching me with a gentle smile. It had been a long time since I allowed myself to be so open with another person. I doubted even Lilly and Rhiannon could guess the depth of my hurt. With Nate, however, it had been easy to unburden my still aching heart.

"You should have been a priest," I teased. "You make an excellent confessor."

Nate chuckled. "It's not a confession if you're the one who's been wronged," he reminded me. "And anyway, I would have made a lousy priest."

I smiled, feeling suddenly flirtatious. "And why is that? I mean, apart from not being Catholic and all?"

Nate's hands, his wonderful, slim, capable musician's hands, caressed slowly up my back, under my hair, and over my neck. Gently he cupped my face and bent his head to brush his lips softly against my own.

"Because I couldn't do this."

He kissed me again, more deeply, drawing a moan from the depths of my chest. His tongue flitted against my own before he gave my lower lip a teasing nip. "Because I couldn't think of you the way I do, want you the way I do."

"No, certainly not," I gasped. He'd turned the tables on me, and now I was the one hearing his confession. It left me dazed. "How do they manage it, I wonder?"

Nate gave a low chuckle. He brushed his thumb over my bottom lip. It still tingled from his kiss and the sensation shot sparks down to my toes before pooling between my thighs.

"Oh," he drawled thickly, "I suppose they pray extra hard for God to take those desires from them."

"And you?"

"I think there are some desires that we should have, so when we act on them properly and respectfully, treating them like the precious gift they are, when we act on them with that in mind I think it brings us closer to Him."

My throat ached. I wanted so desperately to believe it could be that amazing.

I'd never met anyone with that view before. Harry certainly never treated sex as something sacred, which maybe was why he was so bad at it. I tamped down the desire to giggle at the thought. It wasn't difficult really when I considered that if I followed my own logic on that theory that put Nate at the opposite end of the scale in every way from my ex-husband. I practically squirmed with curiosity, wondering if that was true.

"Are you a virgin?" I asked, unable to stop myself.

Nate laughed. He dug his fingers into my hair, pulling playfully at the ringlets.

"No sweetheart, I'm not. I wasn't always a Minister. I went to university too, you know."

"Oh," I breathed out, not sure if I was relieved or disappointed. "But you can't..." I stopped, struggling to find the right words. "I mean... you don't..."

"I haven't since I became ordained," Nate offered.

"Can you?"

Nate laughed again and the deep baritone tremor reverberated in my own chest. For a long moment I wasn't sure he'd answer me.

"Officially?"

I nodded, needing the truth.

"Officially I'm required to state the act is something which belongs between a man and his wife, that it is a sacrament to be sanctioned only within the boundaries of marriage."

My heart sank. I couldn't dismiss the thought that I just hid the brick wall I'd been avoiding for months. I should never have let myself admit that I liked him, that I wanted him, not when I couldn't commit to him.

"Unofficially, though," Nate continued huskily, "if a man cares deeply for a woman and if she returns the sentiment... if they understand the significance of what they share and what that act means then... unofficially... I don't think God would mind. Not in the least."

I melted. I knew in my heart that Nate and I weren't there yet, that we didn't know each other well enough to cross that line, no matter how much we both wanted to. I knew he wouldn't, not until he was ready to. There was a small flicker of hope in my belly, something I hadn't felt for months, for years. Something I hadn't allowed myself the privilege of even dreaming about.

"There's that lovely little smile again," Nate teased. He bent to brush a swift kiss against my lips, one so fast I didn't even have time to respond. "I like that smile. I'm going to have to see if there are other ways of bringing it to the surface."

"I'm sure there are," I murmured, still grinning.

"Well," Nate took a step back and held me at arm's length, his hands gentle on my shoulders. "We have a snow day -- just like when we were kids. What would you like to do?"

I knew without asking that the question more than likely didn't include a very frenzied make-out session on the couch in front of the fireplace. It most definitely didn't include him taking me upstairs to bed. I pulled my mind from lustful thoughts and tried to remember the snow days of my youth. I'd usually spent them curled up in an arm chair, reading.

Nate's grin widened when I mentioned that.

"Well, I have plenty of books," he offered. "We can light a few candles and read all afternoon if you wish."

I realized with a little burst of happiness that I did wish for that. It would be so pleasant curled up with Nate in companionable silence, both ensconced in a fictional world where everything wrapped up neatly by the last chapter and everyone lived happily ever after.

"That would be nice."

"You pick something out for yourself and I'll find some candles." Nate twirled me about and gave me a little push towards the wall lined with book shelves.

I let my eyes wander over the wide assortment of titles, which seemed to be grouped with no sense of organization whatsoever. Obviously the library had been cobbled together by an endless number of individuals with varying tastes. There were romance novels mixed in with biographies, historical fiction with children's books, cookbooks in between religious tracts. All said it was actually quite amusing just to peruse the assortment.

With a triumphant 'aah', I pulled the perfect book from the shelf. It was one of my favourites and I hadn't read it in years. The manse's copy was lovingly worn and I smiled to myself knowing that someone, at some point in time, treasured the novel as much as I did.

"Would you like a cup of tea?" Nate offered as I settled myself at one end of the slouchy couch.

I glanced around the room. "How are you going to manage that with no electricity?"

Nate gave me a patient smile. "There's a wood stove in the kitchen, sweetheart. I've gotten quite good at cooking on it. The power goes out all the time out here, sometimes for days."

Half of me relished that idea, loving how cozy and private it sounded -- the other half was downright terrified at being alone with Nate in the dark for days.

"For days? How do you manage?"

"I'm well stocked for wood and food. I learned that lesson my first winter out here," Nate assured me. "Usually when the electricity is down Esther and I hole ourselves up downstairs where it's warmer. Of course, lots of tea helps."

"Tea would be great."

He crossed the room to drop a kiss on the top of my head. "I'm going to bring in some more wood. I'll be a while. Make yourself comfortable. Esther will keep you company."

As if on cue the golden retriever lumbered over and lay at my feet with a sleepy sigh.

Nate and I laughed in tandem. He slipped from the room with a backward glance over his shoulder, one that made me feel warm and welcome.

I opened the book on my lap and let my eyes skim over the first few familiar paragraphs, but none of it sunk in. My brain rattled around my head, unsettled by a thousand different thoughts.

I liked Nate. I really did. Every minute in his company only strengthened the feeling more. He was so opposite to Harry it was a little unbelievable. My ex-husband had never once made me a cup of tea. He never even offered me a drink.

With a sigh I laid my head back against the couch and closed my eyes. For the millionth time I questioned why I married him in the first place.

The truth was Harry was charming and he easily caught me up in it, telling me exactly what I wanted to hear, promising me exactly what I thought I always wanted. In hindsight it had all been a lie, of course, but I'd been young and terrifically naïve. I didn't think to question his motives. I thought Harry loved me. I wondered now if he even knew the meaning of the word.

Of course Nate was making me promises too and I ached to trust him. I wanted so desperately to allow myself to be caught up in the wonderful, hopeful web he'd woven. It would be so easy to picture myself in this house with him, comfortably domestic, happy together sheltered from the storms.

The afternoon had been such an unbelievable whirlwind. I couldn't even pinpoint the moment when I stopped resisting and let myself get carried away. Nate made it so easy to forget that I was hurt and wary. He made me want to ignore every cautious voice in my head. I hadn't felt that way in ten years, not since the beginning of my relationship with Harry.

I opened my eyes to stare at the shadows cast on the ceilings by the candles surrounding me.

Nate wasn't Harry, I reminded myself. He's a Presbyterian Minister for heaven's sake. He wouldn't lie to me just to get what he wanted.

Would he?

To be continued...