Читать книгу The Best Kind of Trouble - Lauren Dane - Страница 9
Оглавление“I HAVE NO IDEA why I said yes. I should call him and cancel.” Natalie paced in front of her closet, still only half-dressed.
Tuesday just rolled her eyes. “You don’t even have his number.”
“I have his mother’s. She’s got a library card. I looked her up in the system. I can call her, and I’m sure she can pass the message on.”
“Sure, that’s not creepy at all.”
“Gah!”
Tuesday snorted. “Hush up. Wear that blue dress with the white piping at the neckline. You can wear it all day at work, and it’ll still be nice when you’re off. It says I care enough to not look like I slept in a Dumpster, but I’m still casual enough to walk away from your ass if you start anything and look fabulous doing it.”
Natalie halted and then laughed. “You should do red carpet shows on the entertainment networks. I like that better than ‘I’m wearing blah from her spring collection because cerise is the it color’ or whatever.”
“It’s why even after you marry Patrick Hurley and spit out his spawn, we’ll always watch the awards show red carpet together.”
“Marriage? No, thanks. I’m not even convinced I should go to dinner with him. Anyway, he’s not after marriage. He just wants to fuck me.”
“Well, look at you!” Tuesday waved a hand in Natalie’s direction. “You’re all blonde and adorable, and you have great tits. Boys like those. Of course he wants to fuck you. Also, he has.”
Natalie struggled sometimes with the balance between owning what she liked and feeling guilty about it, anyway. Breasts had a lot of power. She did have some nice ones, and Paddy seemed to be impressed. Knowing that filled her with a sort of taboo power. What that said other than she liked that he liked it, she wasn’t sure.
She pulled the dress from her closet and looked at it.
“See what I mean?” Tuesday indicated the dress with a tip of her chin. “Listen and obey always. I know things. Now, I have to get ready to open the shop. Wear those flats, but take some heels in your bag. Don’t argue with me about this. Heels are perfect with that dress and, like tits, everyone likes cute heels.”
Tuesday kissed her cheek and left the room.
She did wear the blue dress, of course. With flats and the blue high-heeled sandals tucked in her bag to change into. On her way out the door, Tuesday tossed her a little drawstring bag. “I made those a few days ago. They’ll be supercute with the outfit.”
Her housemate, in addition to running a custom framing shop, made jewelry she sold in her store. The earrings Natalie spilled into her palm were dangly bits of blue. All together they made a dragonfly, one of Tuesday’s favorite subjects.
Natalie took off the earrings she had on and replaced them with the dragonflies. “Thanks.”
“Text me if you need me to save you. Otherwise, you can debrief me tomorrow morning. If you sleep over at his place, text so I won’t worry.”
“I’m not sleeping over at his place.” No matter how sexy he was. No matter how much knowledge she had about how good he was in bed. Sleeping with Paddy on the first date—despite their history—would be stupid.
“That’s the saddest thing I’ve heard today, Nat.”
* * *
“WHERE ARE YOU off to tonight?”
Paddy tossed the ball one last time, and Ezra’s dumb but sweet-as-hell dog ran off after it, getting distracted by a butterfly.
He looked up at his mother, who stood on Ezra’s porch with Damien’s wife, Mary, and tried to pitch his voice low to avoid notice. “I’ve got a date.”
“Is that a euphemism?” his mother called out. So much for trying to keep it quiet.
Mary laughed, and Paddy shook his head. “You’re jaded, Mom.”
“I raised you four! I’m an eternal optimist. You don’t date, you go off and have your little flings and return home in a week or so.”
“Well, I’ll have you know I’m taking a librarian to dinner.”
“Is that a euphemism?” Mary asked with a smirk.
“She works here in town, as it happens. I’m making her dinner on the boat.”
“Do you need help?”
One of the best things about having Mary as a sister-in-law was that she was an amazing cook. The author of three cookbooks, she was their own personal tour chef, too.
“I’m grilling some salmon from the fishing trip I took with Vaughan a few weeks back. I was going to have corn on the cob to go with.”
Mary cocked her head. “You’re going to serve your date corn on the cob? Is this a first date?”
By the scandalized look on his sister-in-law’s face, he figured it was probably not a good thing to do.
“In a manner of speaking. I knew her before. Years ago. Before we hit it big.”
His mother crossed her arms over her chest. “Oh, and she suddenly wants to go out with you?” Sharon Hurley was not one for any foolery that had to do with anyone taking advantage of her children.
He laughed. “Well, Ezra thinks this is pretty hilarious and all, but no. I ran into her in town last month, and she pretended not to remember me at first. I’ve been hounding her pretty much three or four days a week since then to get her to go out with me. She’s utterly disinterested in me as a celebrity. In fact, it freaks her out, I think. That’s why I’m doing dinner on the boat instead of taking her to a restaurant.”
Mary perked up. “Oh, well, then. Wait. Natalie? Supercute little blonde? She’s one of those who wears cigarette pants and flats and looks like an ad for a vintage clothing catalog?”
He kept looking back and forth between his mother and sister-in-law, confused by Mary’s questions and hoping to get some sort of clue from the context.
His mother’s brows rose, and then she nodded, patting Mary’s arm.
That shared look could very well equal trouble for Paddy, so he wanted to nip it right in the bud before it could turn into a reality. “What is going on between you two? It looks like there’s a caper brewing. No capers. For God’s sake. It took me a month of following this woman around like a lost puppy just to get her to let me walk her to work. If you two rush in like Lucy and Ethel, you’re going to ruin all my progress. Also, what are cigarette pants?”
Mary waved that away. “Never mind, it’s her. There aren’t any other blondes working at the library. Don’t make her eat corn on the cob. Not on the first date. Even if you knew her from before.” Mary came down the steps. “Come with me to the house. I’m sure I have some sides for you.” She tucked her arm through his.
“Are you taking pity on me?” He liked to tease her. She’d come from an equally insane family and fit in theirs just fine. She was the sister he’d never had, and she kept his brother Damien in line and from burning things down. Plus, there was that really good cook thing, and she wasn’t a chore to look at, either.
“That’s what family does.” She winked.
“Let’s drive over. I want to get to the boat and get things set up. I’m picking her up at six.”
He opened the door of his car for her, and she got in.
He wasn’t stupid with his money, but he loved cars and had a special garage built at his place for his collection. He’d decided to take the Shelby fastback. He’d had it restored up in Seattle the year before, and he loved the summertime when he could drive it often.
It was a sexy car. And yes, he was showing off. A little.
Damien was out front when they arrived at his and Mary’s house, just down the road from the main house their parents lived in. His brother’s face lit when he caught sight of Mary. “Hey, there, Curly. Have you been keeping Paddy out of trouble?” Damien kissed his wife soundly.
“Impossible to keep the Hurley boys out of trouble. Only your mother has the fortitude for that. But he’s got a date, and I’ve got stuff for him.”
Damien slung an arm around his wife’s shoulders as he took Paddy in. “Don’t give him those potatoes. Well, you can’t, anyway, because I ate them about ten minutes ago.”
“Damien! Those were for dinner.”
He laughed and Paddy rolled his eyes at his bottomless pit of a brother.
“I was hungry. How can I resist? They didn’t even have a sticky note on them saying not to eat them like the other stuff does.”
“You ignore those, too. I figured if I put the potatoes behind the beets you’d never see them.” She looked back over her shoulder. “Come on in. Let’s see what’s left after Hurricane Damien has gone through my kitchen like a plague of locusts.” Mary poked Damien’s side. “Where do you even put it all? How fair is that, anyway?”
Paddy did what he was told, sitting at the bar while she put together a tote of food for him. Her colored-cotton totes were famous in his family. She had several, each with colored stripes indicating which of them got what bounty. His was blue, and she handed him three, one of which was insulated.
“Balsamic strawberries. They’ll be awesome for dessert. Wild strawberries, even. There’s a pint of vanilla ice cream in case she wants some to go with the strawberries. The balsamic is good on that, too.”
He used to question her weird food combos. After three years of her cooking, he no longer doubted that whatever she gave him would taste good.
She rattled off a bunch of directions for how to deal with this or that, and he just nodded and kissed her cheek when she finished up. “Thank you.”
Damien finally roused. He’d been watching his wife through hooded eyes and Paddy tried not to think about whatever nasty stuff was going on in his brother’s head. “Wait, date? Oh! This is the librarian?”
“You knew about this and didn’t tell me?” Mary looked to her husband.
“Believe me, most of what I don’t share you’d be scandalized by, anyway.”
She rolled her eyes. “Come to breakfast tomorrow and tell us how it went. I may need to check some books out, anyway. I haven’t been down there in some time.”
“Don’t meddle, Curly.” Damien pulled on one of the long dark curls that were the source of her nickname.
“Pfft. It’s not meddling when it’s family.”
Paddy grabbed the totes. “It totally is. She’s skittish. If you poke around, just be discreet. I like this woman.”
Mary smiled up at him, patting his arm. “I can handle it. Now go. Have a good time and use a condom!”
He found himself blushing and felt better when Damien cracked up.
* * *
NATALIE GAVE HERSELF one last look in the mirror in the staff bathroom. The earrings made her smile. Like a little bit of Tuesday was going on the date with her.
Date. With Paddy Hurley. She was so stupid.
And yet there she was, freshening her lipstick and finger-combing her hair. “Time to go,” she told herself in the mirror before she waved goodbye to her coworkers and headed out to the sidewalk.
Where she heard the purr of an engine and knew it was him before the deep green classic car pulled into view.
He pulled up and shook his head so hard when she moved to open her door that she drew back as he got out.
“Wait!” He came around.
“Is it broken?”
Paddy snorted. “No. But my manners aren’t, either. First things first.” He took a long look up and down, and she was glad she’d worn the heels. “You look pretty. I want to say more, but I don’t know if I should.”
“Well, now you have me nervous.”
He kissed her then. Nothing really untoward, a quick peck smack-dab on the lips. But those traitorous lips tingled and his scent was in her by that point. He wore cologne, which seemed odd, but it was nice. Sexy and masculine without being overwhelming.
He hadn’t had a beard all those years before. She liked the slight scratch of it.
Paddy opened the door and indicated she get in. She managed to do so without showing her underpants or looking too ungraceful.
He got in just a second or two later and pulled away from the curb.
“You have great legs and cute toes.”
He said this as his attention was on the road, so he didn’t catch her blush.
“Um. Thanks.” God, did he have a foot fetish or something weird? She thought back on their time and flushed, a sweat breaking out. Okay, so that was unwise because he was really supergood at sexy stuff. But he hadn’t seemed unnaturally interested in her feet.
“Where are we headed?”
“My boat. I figured we could have dinner out on the deck. It’s such a nice night and it’ll be light until so late. I’ll take us away from the marina. I know a nice little stretch just east of here. Deserted, so we’ll be able to see the sunset and I’ll have you all to myself. But not in an it rubs the lotion on its skin or it gets the hose again way.”
She burst out laughing. “Did you just quote Silence of the Lambs at me? Serial killer dialogue meant to reassure me?”
He cursed under his breath, and she reached out to pat his arm to reassure him. “I know it was a joke. Really. I’m more concerned you have a foot fetish than with you being a serial killer.”
“Foot fetish?”
“The toes comment? I mean, look, if it floats someone’s boat, more power to them. But I can’t even get a pedicure because people touching my feet weirds me out.”
“Note to self, don’t try to paint Nat’s toenails.” He turned with a grin on his face. “We’re both being way more nervous than we need to be.”
“Yeah. Probably.”
“I like cute toes when they’re painted and looking great in nice high heels. I don’t want to lick them or anything. Yours would probably be worth it. But I can control my baser urges.”
He parked at the marina, which was less than five minutes from the library, and walked her down the row, heading to a rather impressive boat.
“So, what’s that? Fifty-footer? Nice.”
“Someone knows her way around boats. I like to go fishing with my brothers and our friends. In the summer, if we’re here and not out on tour, we can watch fireworks from the water. Have dinner out here. It’s a good thing to have. You’re okay with boats, right? No seasickness or anything?”
“I love being out on the water. My grandparents had a boat. Sometimes, as I was growing up, we’d go out on it. They lived on Lake Washington.”
“Oh, Seattle locals?”
“Medina.” Her grandparents had lived in a mansion with a sloping lawn to the lake where their yacht had been moored. Too bad they paid more attention to the lawn and their things than what their spoiled son got up to.
He held her forearm as she got on the boat.
“Oooh, swanky. What brought a rich girl from Medina to a shithole bar in Portland?”
“They’re the rich ones.” She blew it off, not wanting to get into it. She was rich, too, but it was their house and their lifestyle. The guilt would start if she thought about it too long. Guilt and anger and all the stuff she knew didn’t belong to her, but she felt it, anyway.
He let her avoid the topic. “Come on, then. Let me get ready. Have a seat up there. Once we’re away from the marina, I’ll crack open some champagne.”
She watched him, the sun behind his head highlighting him like a freaking angel. He was confident there at the wheel. Hands steady, sunglasses shielding his eyes and rendering him even more attractive.
* * *
THE TIME IT took to get away from the marina to the cove where they finally ended up had allowed her to get herself together and shove all that stuff about her family far away.
He handed her a glass. “Now, what should we toast to? New beginnings? Old times?”
“Dinner.”
He smirked and clinked his glass to hers. “That’s a good start. Come on over and sit while I work.”
She managed to climb down and finally just bent to undo the shoes. Yes, they had been cute and sexy but walking barefoot was easier on a boat than in heels. “Hope you don’t mind,” she said when she caught him looking at her.
“I don’t mind at all. They’re sexy heels, I can’t lie. But I like you making yourself comfortable on my boat even more. I’m hoping your skirt blows up enough for me to see if you’ve still got those bows on the backs of your thighs.”
He’d licked her tattoos a time or three, if she remembered correctly. And she knew she did because it would be impossible to forget a man like Paddy Hurley licking the skin at the top of your thighs and then giving your ass cheeks a sharp nip. She shivered and was proud of the way her voice didn’t betray how breathless he rendered her. “Those’d be some powerful gusts. The breeze isn’t that strong and the dress is long enough to defeat what we’ve got now.”
He looked back over his shoulder at her. “So, the bright red bows are still there?”
“I hear tattoo removal is pretty painful.”
“Shame. Maybe I can see them later. Or next date you can wear a shorter skirt.”
“Don’t get your hopes up. I have to bend and kneel all the time at work. Parents in Hood River tend to frown upon librarians flashing their panties at the library.”
He groaned. “You’re a wicked tease, Natalie.”
He made her laugh. She hadn’t expected to feel so relaxed with him. But she did. This was dangerous ground, but she couldn’t help herself. Flirting with him was fun. And...it was easy because things just flowed between them.
He shook his head at her, still smiling. “Be right back. I need to put something in the oven and the microwave.” He dashed down to the galley, and she contented herself looking out over the water. She loved being out on the water, but it had been years since she’d been on a boat. The last time had been when Tuesday had scattered Eric’s ashes.
He popped back up a few minutes later. “Need a refill? I have juice and sparkling water, too, if you prefer.”
Champagne was one of her favorite things, so on the rare occasions she did drink, she loved it. However, she needed to go easy because Paddy was like three glasses on an empty stomach just by existing.
“I’ll have more when we eat.”
He put a platter out on the low table in front of her. “Some snacky things. I considered taking credit. Once you taste them, you’re going to love them and think I’m awesome. I’m all about that. However, it wouldn’t be nice of me, and eventually you’d find out that my sister-in-law, Mary, is an amazing cook and gives us all food on a regular basis. She made all those little things and gave them to me. I was going to do cheese and crackers or chips. I particularly like those there. The ones that look like little sacks. They have cheese and spinach and other stuff in them.” He pointed.
Natalie popped one of the phyllo bundles into her mouth. “Oh. Yeah, these are really good.” She ate two more and then made herself try the other stuff. Dates stuffed with blue cheese, spiced nuts, cantaloupe wrapped in prosciutto.
After Paddy grabbed a few appetizers, he turned and got to work, oiling the grill as she settled on the rather comfortable couch on the deck to watch. He was at ease with himself, clearly at home in his skin.
“This should be done in like five minutes. You don’t need to cook it very long.”
“Want help? Not with cooking because I’d set something on fire. But I can lay out plates and that sort of thing.”
“Nope. Table is set. If you want, you can take the pilaf out of the microwave. There’s stuff in the cooler, but I’ll bring it and the salmon in a minute.”
She made her way down to the galley, guessing—correctly—at its whereabouts and grabbed the stuff he’d asked for and headed to the table on the main deck.
