Читать книгу Want Me - Jo Leigh - Страница 9

SHE’D BEEN ONE OF THOSE kids who loved the limelight, who glowed when she danced and sang and posed. Nate had been roped into attending far too many of her recitals and pageants. He’d been bored out of his gourd, but he’d gone. He and Danny had done their best to cause trouble, and they’d usually succeeded. So it hadn’t been all for nothing. But she’d never swayed like that.

Shannon led him to Danny’s old room, where Nate had spent the night hundreds of times. She grinned as she pushed the door open, and he peeked before stepping in.

“A sewing room?”

“Not just a sewing room,” Shannon said, nudging him forward. “A library, a tea room, a knitting parlor and a quiet room. Mostly a place to escape from the heathens and their games.”

“I didn’t know your mother sewed. Or knit. Or read.”

“She’s … expanding her horizons,” Shannon said, although there was more to it than that if he correctly read her raised brows.

“Has she retired?”

“Yep, she still does the books for the plant when I’m swamped, but she decided when Brady took over as manager that she was going to spend time on things that weren’t cooking or cleaning.”

Speaking of, Danny’s clothes were spread over a very comfortable-looking recliner, what probably was a daybed when it wasn’t a mess of linens, and even over the doorknob of the closet. “At least one of your brothers hasn’t changed.”

Shannon leaned toward Nate and lowered her voice, her breath warm and sweet touching his skin. “He’s actually doing really well at the advertising firm. Don’t tell him I said so, but he’s good. He’s got a gift.”

Too busy inhaling her scent, he almost missed his cue. “Okay, I must be in the wrong house. You? Saying nice things about Danny?”

“It’s probably because I don’t see him very often. Absence makes my tolerance stronger.”

“I don’t think that’s how that saying’s supposed to go.”

“It’s true, though,” she said, eyeing the pile of yarn that had been pushed to the side. “Be warned. You won’t leave here without at least a half-dozen new wool scarves.”

“I’m working in Indonesia. The average yearly temperature is eighty degrees with ninety-percent humidity.”

“As if that’ll dissuade her. Oh, and they’ll be hideous colors, too.”

“I look forward to it.”

“No, you don’t,” she said as she went back to the hallway. “But you can give them away. They are definitely warm.”

“What about your room?”

“Mine? It’s still too small.”

“I’d like to see it,” he said.

For a long stretch of barely breathing, Shannon stared at him, her lips parted. Then she moistened them, the tip of her tongue taking a nervous swipe. “Why?” she asked finally.

“Why?” Shit, he felt as if he were twelve again, caught trying to snatch a peek at Mr. Fitz’s Playboy. “I’m curious about grown-up Shannon’s natural habitat.”

She shrugged. “Suit yourself. It’s two doors down.”

“I know.” He shoved his hands in his pockets, wondering if crashing here was the right decision. It wasn’t as if he couldn’t afford to stay in a hotel. Which was probably more convenient. The real problem was Shannon. He hadn’t expected her, not this version. “Is this going to be too weird?”

“What?” she asked, widening her eyes, but she didn’t fool him for a minute. Her pupils were dilated and the pulse at the side of her neck beat as fast as his own.

“Maybe this isn’t a good idea.”

“Don’t be silly.” She laid a hand on his arm, then proved his point by withdrawing a moment too quickly. “We’ll practically have the whole floor to ourselves. Brady’s room is down the hall but he spends most nights at his girlfriend’s place.”

He had no business being so pleased about that last fact. No business at all.

FOR EVERYONE’S SAKE SHE HAD to snap out of this case of nerves and act naturally. So he wanted to see her bedroom. Not only was she making too much of it, but it also wasn’t as if he hadn’t seen it before. Usually with her screaming at him and Danny to get out and stay out, or yelling for her mom, or throwing something that was handy. But it wasn’t a little girl’s room anymore, and he wasn’t that Nate.

He paused as they reached her door. “It occurs to me I should have asked about this first. As in giving you warning, and not just, hey, I want to see your room.”

She smiled. “I’m not like the savages. My room is neat enough for surprise visits.” She saw the uncertainty flicker in his eyes, and she shrugged. “I think it’s going to take us all some time to adjust.”

He turned. “You think we’ll still like each other?”

“Still? I don’t think we ever liked each other,” Shannon said. “But then we were kids, and being my brother’s best friend, it was your duty to torment me.”

“And now?”

She looked into his warm, direct gaze and her body tightened. “Annoy me and I’ll short-sheet your bed.”

“Ah, so the room comes with maid service.” Nate grinned, making him seem more like the boy she remembered and she relaxed a bit.

“Dream on.” She moved to her closed door, her hand on the knob. “Go ask Mom about maid service. See what she says.”

Nate winced and acted as if he’d been wounded. “You are trying to get rid of me. I don’t know why your parents put up with me to begin with.”

“Because they’re big old softies. They don’t even ask for me or Brady to pay rent, and when I started paying them anyway, I discovered they were putting my checks into a savings account for me.”

“That’s nice.”

“My point exactly. With the benefit of hindsight, I believe they thought you needed the security of a big family.”

He smiled, but it was more out of pathos than anything else. “My folks tried. They did. They loved us. They didn’t have a gift for child rearing.”

“Then isn’t it good you had a backup plan?”

“Brilliant, even in third grade.”

“Now I’m seeing the old Nate.” She felt more like herself, as if they’d turned a corner. Not a huge one, but enough to start with. “So, ready for the reveal? God, it’s hard to admit I still live here, even though it’s becoming common again for people my age, no thanks to the recession.”

“I like that you do. You’ve always been connected to your clan. I envy that.”

“Depends on why I do it.” She opened her door and stepped back to let him in.

He didn’t go far, only a few steps, but she noticed he looked at everything. Her queen bed with the pastel sheets, the hint of lilac on the walls and in the reading chair. She wondered if he remembered the posters of all those boy bands, and Doogie Howser and Jonathan Taylor Thomas. Everything had been pink back then and had ruffles. There’d been a canopy, naturally, and stuffed animals. An entire display case of her tiaras and trophies from being Little Miss Gramercy Park and Little Miss Manhattan, and more than a dozen others. Some were still on display in the living room alongside the boys’ sports awards.

“I was right,” Nate said.

“About?”

“Your good taste. Although the room’s not quite the same without that framed picture of Leonardo Di-Caprio.”

“Who was all of fourteen at the time.”

He went to one of the pictures on the wall. It wasn’t anything fancy. She’d found it at a local art festival, and she’d spent more on the frame than the picture. It was an ordinary bedroom, small and neat, and filled with light. There was an open book on the bedside table, a shawl left draped on a big chair. It was cozy and quiet, not something she’d felt often growing up.

“I don’t spend a lot of time in houses anymore,” he said. “Or beds. I’m lucky to get a cot sometimes. I’ve even gotten used to hammocks.”

“What drew you away, Nate? Danny said you’d wanted to help after the tsunami, but he never said why.”

Nate turned, and he looked so good, so content. He was wearing jeans, a Henley shirt, boots. She could picture him doing errands, getting his hands dirty. But once he’d grown out of his terrible years, before he’d gone away, she remembered him as a reader. He’d liked architecture and didn’t seem unhappy that he was expected to follow in his father’s footsteps. She’d been surprised at his humanitarian streak.

That sounded kind of awful when she thought about it so bluntly, but she’d never seen him go out of his way much. Admittedly, her perspective had been limited.

“I’m not sure. I don’t think I was running to as much as I was running from.”

“Was it so bad?”

“No. It’s not as if I was abused or mistreated or anything like that. I don’t know. I guess I had read too many books about adventures. I wanted some of my own before I settled down.”

“From the looks of it you’re not done yet.”

“Nope. Not yet.”

“How will you know?” she asked. “When, you mean?” Shannon nodded.

“No idea. I don’t think too far into the future, to tell you the truth. Everything is so immediate and real in a way I have a hard time describing. It’s interesting to be back here, to shift my perspective.” He touched the edge of her bed. “I like your room. It’s calm, and it’s pretty, but there’s still you all over it.”

She would have liked to have asked him more about his other life, but she went with the program. “What do you mean, me all over it?”

He walked over to her dresser. “Playbills, perfume, ticket stubs, lectures. I’m surprised you didn’t end up on the stage. You loved it so much as a kid.”

“Some people would say I’ve made my life a stage.”

“What would you say?”

She waved the comment away with her free hand. “Sales, marketing. It’s all just acting, isn’t it? Anyway, I imagine Mom is getting antsy. We should go down.”

He nodded, but turned to take another sweeping look at her small room. “It’s home but it isn’t,” Nate said softly.

Shannon wasn’t sure if he was speaking to her or himself. “What?”

“I’m glad I’m here. I’d forgotten I had memories I wanted to keep.”

“About New York?”

“No. This house. This family. You.”

“Me? I was the pain-in-the-ass Princess. What would you want to remember about that?”

“You were the prettiest little girl I’d ever known. By the time I was getting ready for NYU, you’d gotten even more beautiful. Now, you’re …”

She could feel the blush again and realized it was going to be a problem. “I’m …?”

He inhaled deeply. “We should go eat.” He walked past her and out the door.

Shannon touched her cheeks, willing them to cool off, wondering what had just happened.

NATE HAD WOKEN UP BEFORE the alarm. He’d adjusted to the time change, being in the Northern Hemisphere, and the sounds of the city. He hadn’t done as well with adjusting to the beds.

At the hotel he’d never found the sweet spot, so those nights had been crappy. Myles’s bed was even worse. It sagged in the middle, so no matter where he started, he ended up sinking, his back curving unnaturally. While in the hottest shower he could stand, he’d debated changing rooms after Danny left, but that would be weird seeing as it was now Mrs. Fitz’s sanctuary.

So, he’d work in a couple of massages while he was here. The shower had helped get the kinks out, but now he was running late. He finished shaving, then wiped the shaving cream away. Making sure the towel around his waist was secure, he opened the bathroom door and bumped right into Shannon.

He decided to ignore that his startled squeak was almost the same pitch as Shannon’s. “Sorry, sorry.”

She’d backed up a couple of steps, pulling the top of her robe together. “No, I just didn’t expect …”

Her gaze had gone from his face to his chest. And stayed there. He checked. The towel hadn’t fallen.

She let go of her robe to gesture at his body, at least from the neck down. “When did all that happen?”

He chuckled. He’d been a skinny kid, but he’d done a great deal of hard manual labor overseas, and when there were lulls, he kept himself ready. He returned her gesture, although his wave was focused more around the breast area. “When did all that happen?”

“Point taken,” she said, with an uneasy laugh. “But hey. Nice.”

“You, too.”

“Now go away. I need to shower.” She sounded friendly, unaffected, but he’d seen the telling blush as she pushed past him in a sudden hurry. “You better not have used up the hot water.”

“Would I do that to you?”

She turned, her gaze flickering to his chest before meeting his eyes. “Please.”

“Yeah, okay. But it wasn’t my fault. Have you ever slept in Myles’s bed? I kept waking up thinking I was being smothered.”

“So, no hot water left?”

“I wouldn’t linger if I were you.” He couldn’t, either. Not without embarrassing himself. Partly her fault, the way she’d looked at him.

Shannon sighed.

He accidentally brushed her arm. “I’m sorry. I’ll be more considerate. I will. I haven’t had to be for a while.”

She stared at the place he’d touched her, and when she looked up again, he knew he was in trouble. She was a very beautiful woman. Not a kid, not a teen. And he’d spent a few hours of sleeplessness thinking about how pale her skin was and if all her hair was as stunningly red. He’d felt weird about that last night, but not now. He wanted her, and he was pretty damn sure she wanted him right back.

She cleared her throat, then hurried into the bathroom and shut the door.

It was a problem. He had no idea what the ground rules were. Except that he had no business being half-hard standing in the hallway. He made it to Myles’s room in case Brady hadn’t gone to his girlfriend’s place last night, but Nate was acutely aware that the next door over was Shannon’s bedroom. That she was taking a shower right this minute. Naked. Pale. Her nipples would be pink.

Like the color of her blush. Shit.

“WAIT,” SHANNON SAID, pointing at Nate. “Come over here and stand in front of the fireplace.”

“Why?” He glanced at his watch.

“It’ll only take a second. I need a couple of pictures.”

He frowned at her, but he was moving in the right direction. “For what?”

“Neighborhood blog. No big deal, but I edit the damn thing and I need filler.”

“Wait a minute. What are you going to say?” He had reached the brick fireplace and placed his hand on the mantel.

She doubted he even realized he was posing, but she brought up her cell phone quickly, clicking as often as she could between flash charges. “You live a very adventurous and heroic life,” she said, moving a bit to her right to get another angle. Then she zoomed in even closer. He looked great in his dark suit, no tie, off-white shirt with the top button undone. She wished she could have gotten him in his towel this morning, but then again, she probably wouldn’t have been able to keep her hands steady.

She clicked again. “You’re a native son. It’ll make a great story.”

“How many people read this blog of yours?”

“Oh, a lot.”

“I’m not sure about this. There are people I don’t want to see. I was hoping to keep the visit quiet.”

“Oh, well, that’s easy to solve. I’ll run it after you’re gone. And I’ll make sure to say great things about your organization. I looked it up. You guys do fantastic work.”

“Yeah, we do. And they’ll appreciate the mention,” he said, then glanced at his watch again. “I’ve got to go.”

“Fine,” she said, stealing one last picture.

“But I get to read it, and if I don’t like it, you’re not going to run it.”

She wanted to argue, but it didn’t really matter. She could easily skip writing a piece for the blog. This session was about the trading cards. “Deal,” she said.

“Okay. See you tonight.”

“Maybe Molly’s?”

He smiled as he passed her. “Yeah, Molly’s sounds great.”

She watched him as he walked, still stunned at her reaction to his … to him. The thing was, she hadn’t expected the change. He’d been one of those narrow boys, no ass, no chest to speak of. Like most of her brothers. Myles hadn’t been that way, though, at least not after puberty hit. He’d gathered a harem when he got on the junior varsity football team, and that hadn’t all been due to padding.

But Nate, he’d had an average, if slim, silhouette the last time they’d been to the community swimming pool. He’d been seventeen, she’d been twelve, and she’d threatened to drown him if he continued to splash her with his stupid cannonballs.

He wasn’t average anymore. Not a muscle man, either, just, well, sculpted. Defined. Enough chest hair to be enticing instead of daunting, and those guns … who would have guessed?

She’d reacted. As any woman would. But being attracted to Nate seemed every kind of wrong.

She’d make his trading card first thing. Get him out on the market. It probably was good that she hadn’t taken a picture of his naked chest. There’d be a riot at St. Marks.

Her mother’s call from the kitchen snagged her attention, but a quick look at the clock got her moving. She had a huge day ahead, and now she was going to have to put together Nate’s card.

It was possible that would have to wait. The lunch group wouldn’t get together for another week. For now, she’d look at the pictures, make sure she had a winner. She hoped so. It would be difficult to come up with another excuse.

“I’ll have something at the plant,” Shannon said as she got her coat from the peg. “I’ll be in and out all day.”

“Don’t get doughnuts,” her mother said, popping up in the dining room. “Your father can’t say no.”

Shannon opened her mouth to object, then sighed. “How do you do that?”

“I’m your mother. You can’t keep secrets from me.”

“That’s what you think,” she said, putting her phone into her purse.

“You and Steven Patterson. Coney Island.”

Shannon froze. “What are you talking about?”

Her mother laughed. “Don’t try to fool me, missy.”

It was time for Shannon to leave before she started thinking about that tattoo and her face gave her mother more ammunition. She opened the door, but only made it halfway out.

“At least the tattoo wasn’t a tramp stamp,” her mom called out. “That would have been really embarrassing.”

Shannon closed the door behind her and blushed all five blocks to the subway.

NATE STOOD BEHIND THE barricade that separated the street from the construction zone. He had no idea how long he’d been standing, but when he sipped his coffee, it was lukewarm, leaning toward cold. The sign on the chain-link fence was as familiar to him as the sound of the cranes and earthmovers. Brenner & Gill. Even after he’d inherited half of the firm, the Brenner referred to his father, not himself. And in about fifteen minutes, he would be meeting with Albert Gill, his father’s partner.

Nate had known Albert most of his life. Yet he didn’t know Gill well. The basics, yes. His wife was Patty and he had two daughters, Melody and Harper. There had been Christmas dinners, because the Gills celebrated, and a couple of times they’d had Hanukkah dinners instead, even though Nate’s family were barely observant. But the families had never been friends. His father hadn’t had a gift for friendship, either. It was something of a miracle that he’d gotten married at all, given he preferred to be alone.

That’s how they’d found him. Slumped over his drafting table on a Monday morning. He’d died the Friday before sometime between seven and midnight. According to the coroner’s office, he’d gone quickly, hadn’t felt a thing.

Nate had come back for the funeral, but he hadn’t stuck around. It was a quiet business, and he’d been surprised to find that his mother and Leah had sat shivah for the whole week. Nate had worn a yarmulke, although he’d left it in the box by the door when he’d gone back to his hotel. His mother had made sure his old bedroom was left open for him, but he’d felt no need to stay.

And while he’d mourned his father, it wasn’t what he’d been led to believe was normal. Frank Brenner had been more of an idea than a dad. He showed up at the important events, paid for most of Nate’s college education, but their relationship had been about expectations and conditions. Since Nate had stopped even trying to be his father’s ideal son after graduation, there’d been very little left.

Now he would meet with Albert over lunch, and they’d have an awkward half hour when they tried to reminisce. Nate hoped their meal would be delivered quickly. Food would be an essential distraction until they got to the heart of the matter.

Albert wanted out. It was the details Nate didn’t know, the considerations. He wanted to read Albert as he spoke, figure out what he could before Nate met with his attorney.

There was a lot of money at stake. Building commercial crap paid well. The firm had a great reputation. But it wasn’t going to be close to a handshake deal. Albert had run the business. He’d made the deals, set the terms, got the financing. Nate’s father had designed the buildings, coordinated the construction plans. Albert had many, many friends. He was good with people and he was smart. No doubt he wanted a sizable amount.

What he’d get was his fair share. Nate headed to the restaurant, four blocks from the construction site, prepared to be read in return. He was up for it. He wasn’t afraid of much these days. Too much time spent facing reality.

He had to admit, though, he was looking forward to the game. He’d always liked chess.