Читать книгу Wanting Something More - Kathy Love - Страница 13

Nate had just run into Beckham’s to pick up a quick lunch when he spotted Marty at the deli. He also witnessed the locals’ reaction to the model in their midst. And he could tell Marty saw it too. She looked uncomfortable—and Nate would swear almost hurt.

When he saw her waiting in Lynette Prue’s checkout aisle, he knew he had to step in. Lynette would not be nice—she rarely was.

So without further thought, he squeezed past the others in line, leaned in, and said hello to Marty.

He fully expected Marty to tell him to take a hike. So when her surprised look turned to an almost flirty gaze, he wasn’t sure who was more shocked, he or Lynette.

“Hey, you,” Marty said and smiled warmly.

Damn, she had an amazing smile.

He simply stared at her for a moment, lost in that gorgeous grin. Then he recovered and slipped an arm around her waist. Or at least he thought it was her waist; it was hard to tell through her giant coat.

Marty stiffened at his touch but didn’t pull away, which also surprised him. And after a few moments, she actually relaxed against him.

Lynette watched them intently, and she didn’t, or couldn’t, disguise her annoyance.

Marty didn’t seem to notice Lynette; her full attention was on him. Her beautiful smile widened, and she said in a soft, inviting voice, “So, did you come find me to take me to lunch?”

Nate didn’t hesitate. “Yes.”

“Good, I’m starving,” she said, the words filled with innuendo.

His body reacted immediately. Man, how he wished she really wanted him to satisfy another type of hunger. He’d been giving that idea a lot of thought since he’d last seen her. A lot of thought.

As Lynette fumbled with Marty’s groceries and shot them confused, angry glances, Nate leaned close to Marty’s ear. “So are we still on for tomorrow night too?”

Marty looked up at him again. There was a flash of warning in her smoky eyes. He’d definitely pushed this charade far enough, but again, Marty surprised him.

“Of course, baby.”

Only he would know her charming grin had changed into something more akin to baring her teeth.

He hugged her tight to his side. Man, he wished she weren’t wearing that massive coat. If this was the only time she was going to allow him to touch her, he really could do without the down armor separating them.

“That’s going to be $12.84,” Lynette ground out through clenched teeth, and Marty quickly pulled out of his grasp to fish for her wallet in her pocket.

“Let me,” Nate said, reaching for his wallet, but Marty stopped him.

“No,” Marty said firmly, but then tempered it by adding, “I’ll order a big lunch.”

Nate grinned. “Okay.” She really was quite an actress.

Marty paid Lynette, and Nate picked up the plastic shopping bags. They left the store, Lynette staring after them, still stunned.

Once they were out of her line of sight, Marty reached for the bags.

“I’ll carry them,” Nate told her.

“I don’t need you to carry them.” Marty reached for the bags again, and again Nate moved them out of her grasp.

“Where’s your car?” he asked.

She stopped and braced her hands on her hips. “Nathaniel, I need to go.”

“Nate.”

“What?”

“Nate, you keep forgetting to call me Nate.”

She sighed. “Fine, Nate. I have to go.”

He shook his head. “We’re going to lunch.”

She frowned, regarding him like he was a simpleton. “That was just for Lynette’s benefit. I have no intention of going to lunch with you.” She held out her hand, waiting for him to hand over the shopping bags.

He attempted to look affronted. “I feel so used.”

She seemed confused by him, but then stated, “Well, I think it was officially your turn.” She snatched the bags from his hand and walked away from him.

Nate didn’t move for a moment. His turn? Had he used Marty? But before he could try to strain the possibly forgotten memory through his sieve mind, he realized Marty was making her escape.

He chased after her, circling around in front of her, forcing her to stop.

“How about just a Steamy Indulgence instead?”

Marty’s eyes widened, then her mouth turned down in a distinctly disgusted expression. “No, I’ll definitely pass on that.”

Nate was confused by her reaction for a moment, then quickly said, “Oh no.” He chuckled, “No, I didn’t mean that like it sounded. It’s a new coffee place on Main Street. Lattes, cappuccino, other steamed things—hence the name.”

Marty still looked dubious.

“Come on, I faced the wrath of Lynette Prue for you,” he pointed out. “Surely you can have a cup of coffee with me.”

She regarded him for a moment, then said, “All right.”

Nate wondered why she suddenly gave in so easily, but he didn’t question her further. He’d been thinking about her far too much to mess up a chance to spend a little time with her. Although in his fantasies, she didn’t dislike him quite so intensely. Ah, well, he couldn’t have everything.

“Okay. Want to ride there with me in my cruiser?”

“I’ll follow you,” she said.

“I don’t know if I can trust you,” he said jokingly, although he did think she would bolt if given half a chance.

“Yeah, well, that makes two of us,” she murmured wryly, and he got the feeling there was more that he should understand about that comment. That vague feeling like something was pressing against his brain returned. He ignored it.

“I’ll ride with you, then,” he said and scanned the parking lot for her vehicle. It wasn’t hard to find the silver Jaguar, and he headed in that direction.

The car stood out, gorgeous and sleek, in a sea of ordinary. Even the layer of dirt and salt from the winter roads couldn’t hide its classic lines. Nothing could hide that kind of timeless beauty—much like its owner’s.

Marty wore gray sweatpants, a giant parka, and running shoes. Her short hair was mussed, her face free of any make-up, but she was still beautiful, absolutely stunning.

“That’s why Lynette was so catty,” he said over the roof of her car as Marty used the remote to unlock the doors.

“Huh?”

“People notice you. That bothers someone like Lynette.”

Marty seemed to consider that, but instead of saying anything, she slid into the driver’s seat, tossing her grocery bags over the seat into the back.

He folded into the passenger’s side, the vehicle small for his tall frame. His knee protested, throbbing almost unbearably, but he ignored it.

“It’s on Main Street?” she asked.

He nodded.

She checked her mirrors and backed out of the parking spot. Both of them were quiet as she pulled onto the street.

“So, are you enjoying your visit?” It was a lame question, Nate realized, but it was hard to be suave when the woman so obviously detested him. And when his knees were practically touching his chin.

“Yes.”

“Do you like living in New York?”

“Yes.”

“I don’t know how I would deal with all the commotion,” he said, casting a look at her. “Do you like that—all the hubbub?”

“Yes.”

Okay, this wasn’t going well at all.

“Listen,” he said slowly, “can’t we just have cup of coffee and a nice conversation—like a couple of friends.”

Marty whipped into a parking space in front of the coffee shop so quickly, his knees slammed against the dashboard.

She turned off the engine and shifted in her seat to face him. “Is that what you think we are? Friends?” Her eyes flashed angrily.

He hesitated, then simply stated the truth. “I honestly don’t know what we are. But I know I’d like to be friends.”

He’d like to be a lot more, but at this point, he’d take friendship.

“You might have my sisters and my brothers-in-law convinced that you’ve changed,” she said. “But I find that very hard to believe.”

“Okay,” he said slowly. “Well, I think you might have to wait in line to join that club. There are quite a few people who feel exactly the same way.” He jerked the silver handle and opened the car door. “Let’s just get a cup of coffee.”

Marty watched as Nate unfolded his long legs from under the dash. His movements were awkward, stiff. And she felt a pang of guilt. Whatever had happened, whether he was truly changed or not, he had been through something.

She remained in the car for a moment. Maybe she should just tell him this was a mistake and leave, but when she glanced over at him, she couldn’t.

He waited on the sidewalk. He didn’t appear angry or irritated. He looked withdrawn. His amazing amber eyes muted to a dull brown. His lips immobile, all hints of his appealing grin gone. He looked hurt, and tired.

She fought the urge to bang her forehead on the steering wheel. She did not want to feel bad for Nathaniel…Nate Peck. For all she knew, this was just another one of his elaborate setups to win her trust. To convince yet another person that he was a changed man.

But why? What was the point? For all he knew, she’d be gone from Millbrook in a week. Unless it was just a sick game he liked to play. She’d certainly known men who played sicker games.

She glanced at him again. Ah, hell, it was just coffee. That was a small price to pay for the look on Lynette Prue’s face. That was worth coffee and dessert.

She got out of her car and offered him a tentative half smile. “Okay, truce.”

He regarded her skeptically. “Are you sure? Do you really want to be seen with a conniving ogre like me?”

Marty rolled her eyes. “I wouldn’t describe you as an ogre.”

His eyes glimmered just slightly, as if a flame was trying to flicker to life in their amber depths. “A monster, then?”

She shook her head. “Not a monster either.”

“A cad?”

She considered that label. “Yeah, that one fits.”

“And the conniving?”

“You’ll get no argument there.”

He looked wounded, but this time the expression was obviously affected.

Bells jingled as he opened the door to the coffee shop and held it for her. She entered, immediately enveloped in warmth and the rich, nutty aroma of brewing java.

Paintings done in brightly colored oils and broad brush strokes hung on the walls. Funky, cylindrical lights in different colors hung over the round wooden tables.

Nate led her to one of the tables in the corner. “Is this all right?”

She nodded.

He shrugged out of his brown, police-issue jacket and hung it on the back of one of the chairs. “What can I get you?”

Marty glanced up at a huge chalkboard over the espresso bar. Every flavor and combination of coffee she could possibly imagine was listed in different colored chalk. Overwhelmed, she said, “Just a latte.”

He nodded and headed up to the counter.

Marty pulled off her own coat and sat down.

She watched Nate as he ordered. He was in his uniform. The brown material fit his tall, muscular body impeccably, accentuating his broad shoulders and narrow hips. Yet even with the perfect fit, the outfit didn’t look quite right. She had no idea why. There was nothing she could place a finger on exactly, but he gave the impression that he was wearing a costume.

She thought about how he had looked at Abby’s wedding. He’d been wearing his uniform then too, and as she recalled he’d looked like the model officer. Like he’d been born wearing a uniform. What changed?

That seemed to be the $64,000 question, didn’t it? But given that she kept asking it, maybe it was time to admit Nate had changed.

As he walked back to their table, a cup in each hand, she watched him. His movements were easy, loose, even with the limp. His hair was an interesting combination of golden blond and brown with a peppering of ginger. The color made his unusual amber eyes more striking.

“See anything you like?” he asked as he set one of the cups down in front of her.

“No,” she said automatically, her face flushing.

He glanced around the room. “I actually like this artist. She lives in Tenant’s Harbor. She has a good eye for color.” He took a seat across from her and took a sip of his coffee.

“Oh,” Marty said, relieved he’d been talking about the artwork rather than her blatant staring.

They quietly sipped their coffees for a moment.

“Why did you grow out your hair?” Marty couldn’t believe she asked that.

He glanced up from fiddling with the lid of his cup. “Why, does it look bad?”

“No,” she answered quickly—too quickly, she realized. She paused, then added, “I think it looks nice.”

His eyes widened in mock surprise. “Did you just give me a compliment?”

Marty shook her head, but a smile tugged at her lips. “I just happen to like longer hair.”

“So it isn’t me, per se. You’d like long hair on anyone?”

“Right.”

As if on cue, the shop door jingled open, and a large man, balding on top but with a long, scraggy ponytail, stepped inside. He walked past them to the counter.

“So, you like his hair too,” Nate asked offhandedly.

She shrugged. “It’s fine.”

“You aren’t going to give me an inch, are you?”

She took a sip of her coffee, then said quietly, “I guess I like yours a bit better.”

Nate leaned back in his seat, a slightly smug look on his face. “Damn, I think that was a compliment.”

“Don’t let it go to your head.”

“I’m sure you won’t let it.”

Marty started to assure him that was true when a teenage girl approached their table. From the apron covering her pink sweater and low-rise jeans, Marty could tell she was an employee here. The girl colored slightly and brushed a wisp of hair from her cheek that had escaped its ponytail.

“Ms. Stepp?” she asked nervously.

“Yes,” Marty said, offering the girl a polite smile.

“Hi, I was wondering if I could get your autograph?” the girl asked, her voice a little breathy and nervous. Again she pushed back the stray hair. It fluttered right back into place against her cheek.

Marty’s smiled broadened and she set down her coffee cup. “Sure. Do you have a pen?”

The girl nodded, reaching into one of the deep pockets on the front of her apron. She pulled out a red marker and a small square of card stock, which listed the coffee specials for the week.

“What’s your name?” Marty asked.

“Megan.”

Marty signed the paper. The marker bled slightly on each letter like lipstick in the wrinkles of an older woman.

Marty frowned at that analogy. Why would she think of that?

“I have one of the Calvin Klein ads you did with Arturo hanging in my locker,” the girl said sheepishly as Marty handed the paper back to her.

“Wow.” Marty nodded with a sincere grin. “Do you like Calvin Klein’s stuff?”

Megan looked down the autograph, then glanced back at Marty. The girl’s cheeks were nearly fuchsia, she was blushing so much. “I like Arturo,” she admitted, then blurted out, “Did you really date him?”

A wave of disappointment lessened Marty’s smile just slightly, but then she laughed. She should have guessed that the girl was interested in Arturo. Girls loved him. Of course, she’d loved Arturo once too. “Yeah, I dated him—for a while.”

“What’s he like?”

“Very nice. And funny. And he happens to love Calvin Klein.”

The girl giggled and blushed even more. “He’s so cute. I always watch him on Day After Day After Day.”

“He is cute,” Marty agreed. “And I think he makes quite a believable neurosurgeon.” Okay, there might have been a hint of sarcasm in that last statement.

Megan didn’t seem to notice. “Me too. He’s the best.” She then glanced back at the man behind the counter who was presumably her boss. “Thank you so much.” She held up the paper.

Marty smiled back. “You are very welcome.”

After Megan left the table, Marty glanced over at Nate. He was watching her, his arms folded over his chest, a slight smile curving his lips.

“What?” she asked.

“You dated a soap star named Arturo?”

Marty bristled. “He wasn’t a soap star when we were dating.”

“Arturo…What is his last name?”

“He doesn’t use a last name,” Marty admitted dully.

Nate bit back a laugh. “Oh, like Madonna or Cher.”

Really more like Liberace, she thought, although she didn’t say so.

“So how long did you two date?”

“Quite a while.”

“Arturo,” he said again with a slight smile.

She straightened in her seat. “Like you can give me a hard time. After all, you dated Lynette Prue.”

“Well, you do have me there. Definitely a poor choice.”

She couldn’t help but nod her agreement.

“So why did you and Arturo break up?”

“None of your business. Why are you so interested in this, anyway?”

“Just curious,” he said, offering her a benign smile. “After all, if I should ever get the chance to date you, I wouldn’t want to make the same mistakes he did.”

A wry laughed escaped her. “Oh, I don’t think you’d make the same mistakes. But don’t worry, we won’t be dating anytime soon. I’m not interested in a relationship with anyone.”

Instead of looking disheartened, as she had expected he would, he looked almost encouraged. “So it isn’t me in particular.”

She almost laughed again, this time genuinely amused, but instead she managed to say, deadpan. “Well, I have to admit, you’d be fairly low on my list.”

This time he did look hurt.

They both sipped their coffee in silence for a few moments.

“What if I became a soap star?”

The sudden question startled her, then she smiled. “Nope, that wouldn’t do it either.”

He sighed, but then offered her a quick smile that made his eyes twinkle. He took a sip of his coffee.

It really was too bad she’d sworn off men and that she disliked this one so much in particular. He really was quite cute. Of course, it had always been the cute factor that had gotten her into trouble before.