Authors: Lacey Black
Nate keeps our fingers linked, but pushes me in front of him. “Save me from the piranha,” Nate whispers in my ear. “I feel violated all of a sudden.”
“Oh, you were definitely eye-fucked,” I whisper back with a smile. That crazy, jealous feeling that washed over me moments before eases a little with Nate’s teasing. At least he noticed it and wasn’t impressed.
“If there’s any fucking – eye or otherwise – I only want it to be with you,” he whispers as we approach a table overlooking the river.
“Here you go,” the hostess says as she bats her eyelashes.
“Uh, thanks,” Nate says as he tries his best to ignore her. We both sit down, but the hostess remains standing next to Nate. We both stare up at her with confusion written on our faces.
“Your server will be with you shortly,” she says with another smile at Nate. Yep, she pretty much has no clue that there’s a second person at this table.
“Kay, thanks,” Nate mumbles and stares across the table at me. The look on his face is priceless. Its part fear, part confusion, and completely comical, all rolled
into one.
After a few silent moments that scream of awkwardness, the hostess finally turns and heads back to her stand.
“Did you see that?” Nate asks, shaking his head. “She has turned around and looked back twice.”
“Some women have no couth,” I retort with a smile.
“She’s still staring. I’m starting to get scared,” he replies, dropping his head down to hide behind mine.
“You’ve never been stared at before?” I ask. “I find that completely impossible. You’re gorgeous and I imagine you have phone numbers dropped in your lap everywhere you go.”
“You think I’m gorgeous?” Nate asks with a cocky smile.
“You know you are,” I reply with a blushing smile. “Women everywhere agree.”
“I don’t care about women everywhere. I only care about one particular woman,” he says with another of those drop dead gorgeous, panty-melting smiles. Seriously, it’s practically an art the way he does that.
“Like I was saying, this can’t be the first time someone paid a little extra attention to you.”
Nate sighs and sits up straight. “No, it’s not. But, I guess, when I’m here or anywhere with you, I want to be with just you. I don’t want someone trying to grab my attention. Especially because I know they won’t get
it, and they’re wasting their time. I only have eyes for you.”
This is where I melt into a puddle of mush on the floor. Nate Stevens is the perfect combination of man: big, strong, alpha male, yet so sweet, supportive, and caring. Someday, some woman is going to win the husband lottery when they marry Nate, and that thought depresses me greatly. I wish it would be me.
The waitress arrives and keeps her eyes where they’re supposed to be – on Nate’s face. “Hey, guys. I’m Kim. Can I start you off with something to drink?”
“I’ll take a mango margarita, please,” I say.
“Budweiser bottle, please,” Nate adds.
“Coming right up, guys,” she says as she turns to get our drinks.
“So, tell me about the gala,” I say.
“Well, it’s the first one we’ve had so, I’m not sure what to expect. Erin and Joss have been working hard on it the past several months. Erin wants to upgrade the shelves and furniture in the children’s section of the library. Joss is actually the one who came up with the idea of the gala. She’s from Chicago and apparently her parents made her go to several big events while she was growing up,” Nate says.
The waitress returns with our drinks, and Nate fills me in on the rest of the plans for the gala. Mayor Thorsten is planning on speaking, as well as half the politicians in the Midwest. Erin and Joss did a great job
of organizing such a big event including inviting half the dignitaries and well-to-do in the area.
As soon as we place our orders with the waitress, Nate’s phone rings.
“It’s Ave,” he says as he takes the call.
“What’s up?” he asks and locks those intense blue-gray eyes on mine. “She’s right here. Hold on,” he adds and extends his hand across the table to hand me the phone. “Avery wants to talk to you.”
“Hello?”
“I’m so sorry to bother you guys, but you weren’t answering your phone,” Avery says.
“Sorry, I probably left it on vibrate since work. I always forget to turn it back on,” I reply.
“Well, the girls and I are all going to get manicures and pedicures on Friday afternoon for the gala on Saturday. Sandra is coming in to finish my shift and close up the bakery. Want to come with us for some girly spa treatments?”
“I can do that,” I say. Nate looks at me and nods towards the restrooms. I give him a smile as he slides out of his chair and heads towards the men’s room.
“Great. As your boss, I was going to order you to do it anyway,” she adds with a laugh.
“Well, I don’t want to upset my boss,” I say, smiling back at her through the phone.
“Oh, and we’re making a stop at the mall, too. It’s sort of a tradition for us girls to go buy sexy new
underwear anytime we can,” Avery says in a hushed tone.
“I’m in,” I say with a smile, finding it hard to conceal my excitement at Nate discovering a little surprise later on Saturday night.
“Okay, well, we are meeting at the bakery at two. Everyone is going to park in the back and hop into the new Tahoe,” Avery says. Maddox bought Avery a new Tahoe last week. Between her constant moving around big boxes of baked goods and their growing brood of children, they needed more room. I wouldn’t be surprised if we don’t find out about a pending arrival of a new Jackson in the near future.
If I’m still around for that announcement, that is.
“Sounds great,” I reply.
“How’s the restaurant? Nate took you to The Fisherman’s Wharf, right?
“Yep, and so far so good. Although, I want to throat punch the hostess for hitting on Nate,” I say with a chuckle.
“Oh my gosh, is that girl still there? The same thing happened to Maddox and me on our first date! She was openly flirting with him like I wasn’t even there.”
“Well, I’m guessing it’s the same girl,” I reply.
“Don’t take her crap, Lia. I’ll see you in the morning, okay?” Avery says.
After quick goodbyes, I hang up the phone and set it on the table. Just as I release my hand, though, it
starts ringing again. I don’t even glance down at the screen as I answer.
“What did you forget?” I say with a chuckle.
“Excuse me?” I hear on the other end of the line. Nope, definitely not Avery. While still a woman, this voice is deeper and huskier in that I-just-woke-up kind of way.
“Oh, I’m sorry. I thought you were someone else,” I respond.
“Is Nate there?” the woman asks.
“Not at this moment. Can I take a message?” I ask, wondering who this woman is to Nate. My gut tightens with an emotion I’m not too familiar with, yet find myself feeling more and more where Nate is concerned. Jealousy.
“Yes, please tell him that Vicki called. I will see him at the gala on Saturday,” she says.
“I’ll give him the message,” I reply. Nate is meeting someone else at the gala?
“Thank you,” she purrs before hanging up.
I’m just setting the phone back down on the table when Nate returns to our table. “What did she want?” Nate asks.
“Which one?” I reply, trying to keep my jealousy in check.
Nate’s eyebrow shoots to his hairline as he says, “Who else did you talk to?”
“Vicki,” I say as I look down, taking a big - very
big - pull from my margarita.
“Vicki? She called?”
“Yeah, sorry about answering it. I thought it was Avery calling back because she forgot something,” I respond, wiping my suddenly sweaty hands on my dress.
“What did Vicki want?”
“She said to tell you that she’ll see you at the gala.”
Nate reaches forward, extending his hand across the table for mine. I hesitate, but only briefly. I place my hand in his.
“It’s okay, Nate. You don’t have to explain anything. We aren’t exclusive or anything. Hell, we really aren’t dating,” I say, trying to will my voice to be more casual than I know it is.
“First off,” Nate starts, “we are dating, and we are exclusive. I’m not dating anyone else, Lia. Ever since you slammed that pan upside my noggin, I have no desire to date anyone else. There’s no room in my life for anyone else because you consume my thoughts, day and night. And second, I haven’t seen or talked to Vicki in over a month. She was a friend I hung out with on occasion,” Nate says.
“A friend you slept with from time to time?” I ask with a knowing smile. Let’s face it: Nate is hot. Any woman in Rivers Edge, St. Charles, and, well, the entire Midwest can see that. Case in point: the slutty hostess.
“Yeah,” Nate says and holds firmly onto my
hand like he’s afraid I’m going to pull away and fly out of the restaurant.
“It’s okay, Nate. You don’t have to explain anything to me,” I tell him. And it’s true. Whoever Nate slept with in the past isn’t really any of my business. I know that Nate wasn’t a virgin when I met him. Hell, the man has moves that are legendary. However, it still doesn’t settle that uneasy fluttering in my chest.
“Yes, I do. I haven’t really told you too much about my past, Lia. I want you to know everything. I have nothing to hide from you,” Nate says.
Nate takes a big drink from his beer bottle before he begins. “When I was in high school, I fell hard for a girl named Jill. She was my first everything. I was completely shocked that she even liked me, let alone loved me. When we graduated high school, I thought I wanted to spend the rest of my life with her. I was heading off to the fire academy within a few weeks, and I knew that I wanted her waiting for me when I returned, even though she was heading off to college. I proposed to her and she said no,” Nate says.
My heart is beating at an unhealthy level and my breathing is coming out in quick pants. How could anyone tell Nate Stevens no? He’s the kind of man any woman would love to marry. Smart. Funny. Loyal. Sexy as sin.
“She told me no because she was afraid I would make her a widow because of my job. She also wanted
to go out and live life, not be saddled down at eighteen and expected to start popping out kids.”
Nate’s hands have a slight tremor in them as he tells me about Jill. His eyes are dark and stormy as he continues. “So, I decided right then and there that I would never put a woman in that position. My job could take me on any given day, and it’s not fair to her to sit back and deal with the aftermath. If I don’t get married, then there’s no chance of her getting hurt. That’s why I’ve dated casually, but not seriously. I can’t take that chance.”
I sit there, absorbing everything he’s confessed to me. I knew that Nate didn’t intend to marry, but I didn’t realize the extent of his hurt. Fourteen? Fifteen years? That’s a long time to hold on to hurt and pain of a lost love.
“Nate, there are dangerous jobs everywhere. You could be driving to the grocery store or crossing the street and be involved in an accident. Yes, your job is dangerous, but you save lives. That’s what you do. It’s who you are. The right woman won’t care about your job or the fact that you may not come home one night. The right woman will only care about the fact that she had you at all; for whatever amount of time that would be. The right woman would want to be with you for however long you both have together because she loves you so much, she can’t imagine not having you in her life. The pain of losing you would be more bearable than
the lifetime of regret. The right woman will be worth the risk.”
A woman like me,
my brain practically screams at me.
Nate stares deeply into my eyes. I’m lost in the sea of color and intense feelings that are swirling around within them. It’s at this exact moment that I want to tell him that I’m that woman. That I love him for who he is and that I would be honored to have him for a day, a year, or a lifetime. I’d take whatever amount of time I was given.
But, I know that our time is limited.
“What if I already found her?” Nate asks in a soft, yet husky voice. My insides practically explode with joy and sadness.
How do you answer that when you know you will eventually leave? How do you tell the man you love that you, in fact, do love him but you can’t stay? How do you tell the man that you see spending the rest of your life with that you’re going to break his heart, just like the woman before you did?
Our food arrives at that exact moment which saves me from having to answer. I’m not sure I could get the words out anyway. Nate and I both silently dig into our food. I’m devouring my steak and butterfly shrimp like I haven’t eaten in a week. In all honesty, I know that as long as I have food in my mouth, there’s a better chance I won’t say something stupid.