Real Men Don't Break Hearts (4 page)

BOOK: Real Men Don't Break Hearts
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But she didn’t. Instead she drove up the hill and edged her car into the narrow alley beside the gift shop. She got out and walked round to the front of the building where a side door, separate from the shop, opened onto the stairs that led up to her apartment. This part of town was usually quiet and deserted at night. Her shoes clicked on the pavement as she walked, the keys to her door in her hand.

A sleek sports car sat outside her shop. She hesitated, her heart breaking into a quick trot. Was there someone in the car staring at her? She caught a movement inside the darkened interior of the car and backed away toward her front door. Silly to be nervous. Crime was low in Burronga, but a single woman on her own couldn’t be too careful.

A dark figure unwound from the sports car. “Ally, it’s me. Nate.”

She let out an exasperated puff. “What are you doing lurking in the dark like that?” Her heart wouldn’t stop pattering even though she now knew the threat was non-existent.

He moved closer, stepping into a pool of light provided by a street lamp. The yellow glow turned his face into a contrast of paleness and shadow, cutting the planes of his cheekbones into sharp angles.

“I wasn’t lurking,” he said. “I was waiting for you to come home.”

“Oh.” She peered at him through the dimness, unable to fathom his expression. “How long have you been waiting?”

“About half an hour.”

Nate Hardy had been waiting for her for half an hour? She tipped up her chin. “You should have called. You could have been waiting for hours, seeing as it’s Friday night.” Yeah, and she had so many places to go.

He gave her a faint smile, as if he knew as well as she how she spent most of her Friday nights. “I did call. I got your voice mail. But I wanted to see you in person anyway.”

“Now? Couldn’t it wait until tomorrow morning?”

He cocked his head toward the door leading to her apartment. “D’you think we could discuss this upstairs?”

“You want to come into my apartment?”

“If you wouldn’t mind.”

The keys dug into her palm. Why did he seem so conciliatory? So different from this afternoon?

“Okay,” she said, still filled with suspicion.

She unlocked the door and led the way upstairs to her apartment. Nate walked in and inspected his surroundings, not bothering to hide his curiosity. One of her grandmother’s handmade afghans adorned the back of the couch. Her parents’ oak dining table stood in an alcove. She’d always thought her apartment cozy, but now she wondered if to Nate it seemed fussy, spinsterish.

“Nice place you’ve got,” he said.

What was he up to? Just a few hours ago he’d traded insults with her, and now he was complimenting her decor? “Are you thinking of increasing the rent?” She folded her arms. “Because I have to tell you the stove has a habit of going on the fritz and the windows—”

“No, nothing like that.” Looking a little irked, he pushed his hands into the pockets of his trousers and jingled some change. “I wanted to talk to you because…well, when I came by this afternoon I didn’t know about Seth’s wedding. I only heard about it this evening. If I’d known I wouldn’t have come barging in like I did. It was bad timing on my part, and I apologize.”

His eyes had softened, but she didn’t like them any better. The last thing she needed was his pity. She ran her fingers through her curls and flicked them back to glower at him. “You don’t have to feel sorry for me. I’m a big girl. I can handle it.”

“By chucking bars of soap around?”

The twitch of his lips caught her by surprise. When she thought about it, it was pretty funny the way she’d made him duck and dodge. Not that she’d admit it. “The soap was aimed at you, not at Seth,” she retorted. “I told you. I’m over him.”

The fleeting amusement faded from his face. “If it’s any consolation, I told him off for having the wedding here, but apparently Paige insists on it, and what she wants she usually gets.”

A simmering, indigestible sensation spiked her stomach like chili. Why was she letting Nate get her all hot and bothered?

“It’s no concern of mine.” She took off her jacket and draped it over a chair before moving to the windows to draw the curtains. “Seth can get married wherever he wants. It has nothing to do with me.”

“You don’t have to be so magnanimous, you know. You can vent your feelings a little.”

Perhaps, but not in front of Nate. She needed him to see her only as graceful and cool. Adjusting the collar of her shirt, she gave him a sickly sweet smile. “I’m fine, honestly. You really didn’t need to wait downstairs for half an hour to tell me all this. I’m sure you have better things to do on a Friday night…” She let her voice trail off, the hint that he should take off blatant in her silence.

His caramel eyes ran up and down her body, a curious expression playing across his features, as if for the first time in his life he were seeing her, really seeing her. At his scrutiny a tremor ran through her. He’d always had this effect on her, and she’d always told herself it was because she couldn’t stand him. He was an amoral rogue who took what he wanted without thinking, a sensual, sexy guy with zero desire for any kind of commitment. The type of guy she avoided like the plague. But now she had to admit it wasn’t revulsion that made her shiver when Nate stared at her. It was…fascination. Fascination with the forbidden.

But maybe he wasn’t such forbidden fruit anymore. Maybe it was time to change her whole outlook on life. Maybe Nate was just the kind of man her sister had in mind when she’d advised her to “have fun.”

Play around with Nate? The idea sent a zing through her veins. She studied his quirked lips, the fine shirt tight across his broad chest, the trousers brushing against muscular thighs, and heat began to gather in her pelvis like curling smoke. Oh, he was sexy all right. Enough to make her mouth dry and her extremities tingle. But then she looked into his eyes, and the kindling fire in her fizzed out.

She might be in need of a little adventure, but messing with Nate would be more like a suicide mission. She’d heard all the stories about how he operated. Any woman who fell for his charms had to be prepared for a quick and brutal heave-ho. When Nate tired of a woman, he cast her off smartly, like a snake shedding an unwanted skin.

She needed to change her image, to shake herself out of her rut, but getting tangled up with Nate would be the worst way to do it. And besides, who said he’d be interested in her? His taste in women ran to the flashy, sassy type who knew the score when it came to men. Not someone like her.

“So you’ve been living here in Burronga all this time?” Nate asked, breaking into her agitated thoughts.

She leaned against the back of her couch, concentrating on her breathing. “Some of us like it here.”

“Uh-huh. Running the family business?”

“Not all the time.”

“Oh?” He cocked an eyebrow, appearing genuinely interested.

She shrugged. “I worked at the Dumfries Resort for a while, but my nana developed heart problems, so I started helping her out at The Giftorium.” At that point she’d been toying with the idea of going to university in Canberra. Her grades were good enough, but no one in her family had ever done something like that, and in the end her grandmother’s health had squashed any ideas of university study. But the notion still lingered, and every now and then she wondered if it wasn’t too late.

“Care to join me for a drink down at the Red Possum?”

She felt her eyes widen. “A drink? Now?”

“It’s not even ten o’clock,” he said in a way that made her feel twice her age. “Surely it’s not too late for just one drink?”

“What makes you think I’d want to have a drink with you?”

Nate spread his hands. “Hey, I’m just trying to make things right here.”

“Oh, so you think just a quick
sorry
is all it takes and suddenly I’m supposed to forget everything?”

He gave her a smile that sent a sizzle through her veins. Oh, he had a dangerous smile, filled with illicit promise. “You don’t strike me as someone who holds onto a grudge no matter what. We’ve had our differences in the past, but why make a tricky situation worse? I’m going to be your landlord, you’re going to be my tenant. Isn’t it in both our best interests to at least try to get along?”

Her lips clamped together. Forget about his sexy smile. He thought just one brief apology made everything okay between them? Well, she wasn’t going to fall for his laid-on charm just to make things easier for him.

“Sorry, it’s too late,” she said crisply. “Much too late.”

She held his eye, hoping the cool dismissal in her gaze was too obvious for him to miss. His mouth flattened before his expression tuned aloof and distant. He lifted his shoulder.

“You’re right. It is too late. Good night, Ally.”

Chapter Four

“The leaded glass lampshades?”

“Going.”

“The beeswax candles?”

“Staying.”

“The Angora sweaters?”

Ally hesitated. “Um…”

“Come on, they’re overpriced and hideous.” Tyler held up one of the fluffy, cotton candy–like garments against her chest and pulled a face. “Perfect if you’re going to tea with the Bishop, but useless in Burronga.”

“Nana will never let me hear the end of it if I drop the Angoras. She and Carol go a long way back.”

“Unless Carol is willing to come forward with the rent money you owe, then you have to dump her sweaters.”

Ally puffed out her cheeks. “Okay, they’re gone.”

“Fantastic!” With a triumphant flourish, Tyler tossed the offending sweater back onto the rack. “I always hated those things.”

“Me, too,” Ally admitted. “But it won’t be easy telling Nana.”

“How did she take the news about Seth’s wedding?”

“Oh, she’s been fussing around me like a mother hen with an injured chick.” For days Nana had been filled with indignation at what she considered a terrible slight on her granddaughter, despite Ally’s assurances that she couldn’t care less about her ex-fiancé’s wedding. Ally was quickly getting tired of being treated like an invalid. Especially when she had way more important matters to deal with. “I just hope she’s understanding when I tell her about my plans for the shop.”

After going through her finances one more time, Ally had made the decision that the gift shop needed to change. She had to increase her profits or she’d have no option but to close shop. And that meant completely revamping her stock. Out would go all the stuff that Nana had stocked for years and had gone out of fashion ages ago, and in their place would be…well, Ally hadn’t gotten to that part yet. First she would cull all the deadwood and then she would think about what she needed.

“You’re doing the right thing,” Tyler said. “You should’ve done this a long time ago.”

“Until recently I’ve never thought of this shop as truly
my
business, even though everything’s in my name. I never sought it out; it was just handed to me by Nana. But now I want to make a proper go of it.”

Tyler nodded and pointed to a collection of glass vases. “What about those?”

Ally picked up one of the plain, square vases. “I think they’ll have to be a no. They’re nice but a bit too conventional. I want something more unusual, something you can’t get at every shop.”

“I may be able to help you.” Tyler’s face brightened. “I know a guy who does hand-blown glass art. His work is amazing, and he lives nearby.”

“I don’t want stuff that’s too avant-garde. Otherwise it might be the Angora sweaters all over again.”

“He makes a whole range of glass art. I’m sure you’ll be blown away. Why don’t I make an appointment for us to visit his studio?”

“Okay,” Ally replied slowly. The trouble with Tyler was that sometimes her enthusiasm ran away with her, but it felt good to have her friend trying to help. And she didn’t have time to dilly-dally. If she wanted to pay Mr. Cummings the rent she owed before the building changed hands, she would have to act decisively.

“Brandon’s a cool guy.” Tyler tilted her head and grinned. “In fact, I think you and he could have more in common than just glass art.”

Ally groaned as she opened an empty cardboard box on the floor. “Oh, God, not you, too.”

“What d’you mean, ‘you, too’?”

“My sister wants me to go out and have more fun. My grandmother wants to fix me up with the grandson of a friend of hers at the retirement home. And now you want to pair me up with this glass artist of yours.” She reached for a stack of newspapers and began to wrap a vase. “Why is it that suddenly everyone’s taking such an interest in my love life?”

“Maybe it’s because you don’t have a love life.”

Scowling, Ally deposited the wrapped vase into the box and reached for another. “No, that’s not it, or you’d have mentioned this Brandon guy before. No, it’s because of Seth’s wedding, isn’t it? You’re all feeling sooo sorry for poor ol’ me, who must be crying myself to sleep every night at the thought of him marrying right under my nose!”

Tyler ducked her head and examined her scarlet fingernails. “Uh, well, I just thought a fun date with an amusing guy might distract you.”

“I know you’re just trying to help, but honestly, I’m fine.” The newspaper crumpled under Ally’s fingers as she screwed it round the neck of the hapless vase. “And you can tell that to anyone else who’s interested. I’m sick of all the pitying looks I’ve been getting.”

“Pitying looks?”

“I get them constantly—at the supermarket, the bank, the library. I even get old biddies coming in here and telling me there’re plenty of fish in the sea.” Just yesterday she’d walked into the pharmacy and the gaggle of women around the counter had suddenly fallen silent. She’d known what they were nattering about. Crystal Kerrigan’s daughter’s wedding was a hot topic around town, and everyone was agog with speculation. “People stop talking about the wedding as soon as I appear because they’re afraid of upsetting me.” With a sigh she grabbed another vase and sheet of newspaper. “Do I look upset to you?”

“I dunno. I think you have a habit of hiding your feelings.” Tyler crouched down beside Ally. “You and I are very different, but we’re friends, aren’t we?”

Ally paused in her wrapping. She looked at Tyler’s pert face, her thickly mascaraed eyelashes, her mane of tumbling hair. Tyler’s own dramatic jewelry adorned her ears and neck, complementing the vividly patterned skirt and blouse and cowboy boots. Even on her worst days Tyler had a knack for standing out with her unique brand of bohemian chic. By contrast Ally sometimes felt she was a stick insect next to her. Tyler was right: they were very different. But she counted Tyler as one of her best friends.

“Of course we are,” Ally said with a faint smile. “Is that why you’re interfering now?”

“Precisely.” Plopping herself down on the floor, Tyler crossed her legs. “You
say
you don’t care about the wedding, but I’d feel a whole lot better if you
acted
like you didn’t and started seeing a man or two.”

“But wouldn’t that just be obvious? If I suddenly started going out as soon as I’d heard Seth was getting married? Wouldn’t I seem a bit desperate?”

“Better to be out and about than to seem like you were hiding.”

Ally chewed on her lower lip. For no particular reason she found herself remembering Nate and how he’d asked her to have a drink with him. She’d turned him down because she was still angry with him, but afterward she’d felt perversely disappointed.

If she were seen having a drink with Nate Hardy, then surely that would stop any rumors about her broken heart. People would realize she’d put her failed wedding behind her because she was with Nate, her ex-fiancé’s cousin and best man at that wedding. Plus, Nate was the complete opposite of every guy she’d ever gone out with. That would show everyone.

But then the image of Nate’s face burned brighter. She remembered the decadent lure of his mouth, the over-familiar way his gaze had wandered across her, and the hurried pulse of her blood. Nate was no solution. She detested him, even though her body seemed to have other ideas.

“I’m not hiding,” she declared. “I just don’t have the time to worry about dating.”

“Why don’t you keep an open mind when we visit Brandon? You never know; he might be just the man you’ve been looking for.”

Ally narrowed her eyes suspiciously. “If he’s so great why haven’t you snatched him up yourself, huh?”

“Oh, he’s not my type.” Tyler fluffed up her skirts, looking coy. “A bit too straight-and-narrow for my tastes. But you’ll see for yourself.”

Ally groaned. “I think I’m already regretting this.”

“Have you told Nana yet about the changes to the shop?”

Ally glanced out the kitchen window to Jess’s backyard, where Nana was minding the twins, then turned back to her sister. “No, not yet. I’m waiting for the right moment.”

Jess paused in the tossing of her potato salad to shoot her a sympathetic smile. “You’ll have to tell her soon before she pops into the shop unexpectedly one day and finds half the stock changed.”

“Not half, more like three quarters. I’m getting new stock almost every day. And I want to change the name, too, but that takes a bit of time.”

“Change the name?” Jess dropped her salad servers. “Oh, wow. That’s really going to shake her up.”

“I know.” Ally nibbled at her fingernail as guilt surged. “That’s another reason I’ve been putting it off. But you have to admit ‘The Giftorium’ sounds stale and boring. I’m thinking of calling it ‘Pizzazz.’ What do you think?”

Jess’s eyebrows rose. “It’s different.”

“What’s different?”

They both started as their grandmother appeared at the back door.

“Oh, didn’t see you there, Nana.” Jess gave her a bright smile.

“The twins need cleaning up.” Nana reached for a wet cloth. “So what were you girls talking about?”

“The…er, the potato salad,” Ally ad-libbed. “Jess is trying a new mayonnaise.”

“Don’t know why you’d do that.” The old lady eyed them over her spectacles. “If it’s served you well all these years then there’s no reason to go changing it.”

“You’re quite right.” Jess gave Ally a pointed look before she lifted the salad bowl and headed for the dining table. Moments later, Brian walked in with a platter of sizzling sausages and chops, followed closely by the twins, and they all settled around the dining table. Everyone piled their plates with meat and salad while Jess saw to the twins at their kid-sized table with her usual efficiency before joining the adults.

“Did you really change the mayonnaise?” Nana tasted a forkful of potato salad. “Tastes exactly the same to me.”

“There you go, then,” Ally said with an encouraging grin. “Sometimes change isn’t as bad as you think.” Nana still didn’t look convinced, so Ally turned to Brian. “How’s business?”

“It’s been good.” A smile spread across his face as he reached for the ketchup. “Really good. We just got a big order in the other day. Real big—”

“Sweetie,” Jess interrupted. “Pass the mustard, will you?”

“But that sounds fantastic.” Ally leaned forward, genuinely interested in what Brian had to say. Despite their hard work, Jess and Brian’s floral business was just scraping by, so she was happy to learn they’d landed a big order. “Who’s it for?”

“It’s…” Brian glanced at his wife over the mustard bottle, and hesitation stole across his features. “It’s…um…well,” he plunged on, “as a matter of fact it’s for Seth and Paige’s wedding.”

“Seth and Paige’s wedding?”

Brian drew in a breath. “Uh-huh.”

“Oh.” Ally swallowed and set down her fork. Everyone at the table was staring at her, she realized.

“I’m sorry, lovey. We’re all sorry,” Nana said.

Jess reached out and squeezed her hand. “You aren’t upset, are you?”

“Of course not. Why would I be upset?”

No one answered. Ally glanced from her sister to her brother-in-law to her grandmother, noticing their identical expressions: sympathy, guilt, nervousness.

“Good grief! Don’t tell me you all feel
sorry
for me!” Her hands started to shake from the emotion tumbling out of her. “I am a grown woman of twenty-five. I do not need to be shielded and mollycoddled. All of you”—she aimed a glare around the table—“need to start showing me a bit more respect.”

Jess’s mouth dropped. “But Ally, we’re only trying to—”

“Protect me from bad news. Yes, I know. You’ve been doing that ever since the day Mum and Dad died, and I really appreciate that, Jess, but I’m all grown up now. I’m not your frightened little sister too scared to sleep on her own anymore. Do you hear what I’m saying?”

The bewildered look on Jess’s face brought her up short. Jess had always taken her big sister responsibilities seriously, maybe too seriously, and she probably didn’t know what had come over her normally even-tempered kid sister. But what Ally had just blurted out had been long overdue, she realized. She needed to convince her family that she could stand on her own two feet, that she could make her own decisions, and that even if she got knocked down once in a while, she’d still survive.

She exhaled deeply, forcing her hands to relax, and tempered her voice as she continued. “Look, I’m glad you got the flower job. Really. I want to hear all the details.”

“Well…” Jess began uncertainly. “We’re just a small part of the whole extravaganza. We’re providing the centerpieces for the tables at the wedding reception and a few other arrangements to decorate the marquee.”

“That sounds like a big order!” She drew in a deep breath. “I’m so happy for you guys. You two deserve a break like this.”

Brian nodded at her, approval and relief spread across his face. “Couldn’t have come at a better time.” He squirted ketchup over his meat and dug into his food. “Peonies are coming into season. Jess is gonna make those centerpieces look fantastic. And we might get a mention in the magazine coverage. Wouldn’t that be great, getting free publicity? Jess has already had a meeting with the bride and her mother.”

“Oh.” Ally raised her eyebrows at her sister. “So you’ve met Paige Kerrigan?”

“Just briefly.” She hesitated before continuing. “Crystal Kerrigan did most of the talking, but Paige was very definite about what she wanted. She strikes me as a very single-minded person.”

“But not half as beautiful as you, dear,” Nana added, patting Ally’s hand.

Ally chewed her lip. It seemed she’d successfully impressed Jess and Brian with her desire to be treated like an adult, but Nana was still determined to coddle her. She knew Nana was only trying to make her feel better, but it was time to show her independence.

Taking a deep breath, she turned to her grandmother. “Nana, there’s something I have to tell you.”

“What is it, dear?” Nana smiled encouragingly.

Ally cleared her throat. “It’s about the gift shop. I’m afraid it hasn’t been doing well lately. Visitors have dropped, and sales are down. So I’ve decided to give the store a major overhaul.”

“Really?” A worried look swallowed up her grandmother’s smile. “What kind of overhaul? You’re not going to rearrange the stock, are you, because I don’t—”

BOOK: Real Men Don't Break Hearts
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