The Bridge to a Better Life (25 page)

As they walked, all his old fears resurfaced, and with each step, he grew more and more uncertain.

And then he felt her fingertips brush his hand. He looked over. Even in the descending darkness, there was starlight in her eyes, the kind he used to see when they would wake at the same time in the middle of the night, as if designed, and make love.

She suddenly tripped on the path. He grabbed ahold of her hand to keep her from falling again. When she straightened, a second passed, and then another. She didn’t let go.

They walked through the darkness together.

The meeting in Denver had only served to show Natalie how much her life had changed, both personally and professionally, since making the move to Dare Valley. As Natalie parked on 14th Street in Denver’s Larimar Square, she realized she hadn’t missed the city as much as she’d expected.

Too many people lined the sidewalks, walking briskly to restaurants or coffee shops or offices. And the traffic she’d suffered through to get there in the morning…well, it had given her way too much time to obsess over the monumental shift between her and Blake last night. That kiss had been like an earthquake, breaking apart the landscape inside her, which she’d grown accustomed to seeing as smooth and flat. Now all her feelings, all her hurts seemed to be exposed to the harsh light for him to see.

The meeting had gone well—a former client had agreed to let The Grand Mountain Hotel serve its catering needs—but her stomach had roiled the entire time. In truth, she was a little nervous about meeting her sisters for lunch. She wasn’t sure what, if anything, to tell them about Blake, but she wanted things between them to be back to normal. Lately, their interactions had been more shallow than usual, which she knew to be her fault. After all, she’d asked them not to push or press or ask questions. That wasn’t how they were with one another.

She was heading down the sidewalk to the restaurant she’d chosen for lunch when a bulky man in a cheap gray business suit stopped in front of her and stared at her with narrowed eyes. When she tried to move past him, he snagged her arm.

“Hey, aren’t you Blake Cunningham’s ex-wife?” he asked, his tone hostile.

She yanked her arm away, but he stepped in front of her, forcing her to either stop or walk into him.

“I saw you with him on Twitter this weekend,” he spat. “You cost us this coming season, bitch. I hope you’re happy.”

Her heart pounded in her ears as other people stopped to stare.

The man who’d hurled insults pointed at her and announced in a louder voice, “She’s the bitch who made Blake Cunningham retire.”

A few boos echoed in her ears. She stood frozen in place—unable to respond to the onslaught with any of the witty comebacks she’d normally hurl in the face of rudeness. His insults had picked at her raw place.

A comforting hand curled around her shoulder. “Hey, numb nuts!” Moira said to the man. “Why don’t you grow a pair and stop blaming someone for our QB retiring? I can tell you that Blake Cunningham has a big enough pair to make his own decisions, so I’ll ask you to shut your mouth, or I’ll call a police offer and have you charged for accosting a woman on the street.”

His eyebrows rose so high they reached his receding hairline.

“Now how about an apology?” Moira said, staring down the crowd.

“In your dreams, bitch,” the man snarled and walked off, giving them the bird over his shoulder.

She was embarrassed to realize she was shaking. Yes, the guy was clearly a jerk—the type she’d normally turn into mincemeat—but he’d made her realize something anew. The whole Raiders nation was suffering because of Blake’s retirement…and it was her fault.

“Are you all right?” Moira asked, shaking her slightly to help her snap out of it.

“What happened?” Caroline asked, breathing hard, as she rushed up the sidewalk toward them. “I heard you yelling at that nasty man, Moira, so I sprinted in my heels. Are you guys okay?”

Her sister tossed her head back so her hair could settle down her back. “We just faced down a rabid Raiders fan, no big deal. Natalie! Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” she said, adrenaline pouring through her system. People had stopped walking on the sidewalk and were staring at them, and she couldn’t shake the fear that everyone in the vicinity was talking about them—about
her
.

“Let’s get to the restaurant,” Caroline said, flanking her other side.

With her two sisters guarding her from further harm, they walked into TAG. With its unique continental flavor, anchored in the head chef’s Hawaiian roots, it was one of her favorite restaurants, but she could barely focus as her sisters led her to one of the smaller red booths nestled against a brick wall.

“Can I get you something to drink?” their female server said.

“Whisky,” Moira told the woman, who was eying them with concern. “Neat. For all of us.”

“I have to drive home,” Natalie said, trying to lock her muscles so she would stop shaking.

“One won’t hurt you,” Caroline said, “and if you need to stay over tonight, you can crash at one of our places.”

All the tense weeks since their fight seemed to slip away. They’d defended her so naturally—without even thinking about it. “Oh, God. I’m so sorry for what I said to you both, for how I’ve acted. That guy was right. I’m a bitch.”

Moira grabbed her hand. “No, that guy was totally out of line.”

The server came back with their drinks, and they all picked them up.

“To sisters,” Caroline said.

“To sisters,” she and Moira added, although hers was more of a mumble.

She only sipped the liquor, but it did the job. The fire raced down her throat and cut through the remaining haze in her brain. “I can’t believe that guy,” she said aloud. Sure, people had booed her before—recently, even—but for a stranger to call her a bitch on the street? Blake would lose it if he heard. All the more reason not to tell him.

“Have there been other incidents like this?” Caroline asked.

She told them about Hairy’s, which caused them both to frown.

“Yeah, we saw the pictures of you and Blake on social media. We—”

“It looked like you had a lovely time,” Caroline said, giving a pointed glance at their sister, as if to remind her the subject was forbidden. She handed out the menus the server had set on the table.

They both picked them up, studying them a lot more intently than needed.

“How about we share the taco sushi to start?” Caroline suggested. “It’s ridiculous. Where else can you have ahi tuna with sushi rice served with mango salsa and guacamole?”

“Sounds great,” Moira said, still not looking away from her menu.

Natalie pressed her hand to her aching stomach, realizing she wasn’t hungry. No, this was hurt, the kind of belly hurt that came when a person was at odds with the people closest to them.

The server came and took their orders. Moira chose the fish tacos, Caroline the chicken ones, while she selected the hanger steak, hoping a little protein might settle her stomach.

Except she knew it wouldn’t. The only thing that would do that was making it right with her sisters.

“I don’t know how to fix things between us,” she told them as they both traced the rims of the water glasses their server had brought them. “I mean, we talk, but we don’t talk.”

Moira raised her brow in challenge, and she could almost hear what she was thinking.
This is how you wanted it, Nat.

But she didn’t want it that way anymore, so even though it was hard, she started to tell them about everything between her and Blake. How sad and lonely he sometimes seemed and how much guilt and pressure she felt. Caroline reached for her hand when she told them about offering to cater his Once Upon A Dare guys’ weekend. Moira finally reached for her other hand when she told them about getting drunk at Hairy’s and how Blake had stayed with her after she’d put on a particularly epic Natalie Show. Her chest felt like it was enclosed by manacles by the time she reached the part about kissing him last night—and how it had made her more scared and confused than ever.

Everyone fell silent, and the server brought their food. She could tell her sisters were scared to say anything given the way she’d shut them down before.

“I know what I said,” she said in a low voice, mostly because her throat was as tight as her chest now. “But…well…shit…just tell me what you’re thinking.”

Caroline nestled closer. “I would say you two are in a good place. It’s only natural to be confused, but it sounds like some things are becoming clearer.”

Moira met her eyes. “You still want him, and you’re both taking care of each other again. You helped him with his guys’ weekend, and he helped you when you were drunk. I’d say that’s progress.”

“That guy—the one on the street—is my worst nightmare,” she said, pushing the greens of her salad around on her plate. “I’m afraid everything he said is true. You can’t imagine how guilty I feel about him giving up football. I know this camp he’s doing is going to be incredible, but I worry about the after part.” It felt unburdening to share the thoughts she had barely even expressed to herself.

She proceeded to tell him about her run-in with Cormack Daly at Hairy’s.

“Wow. I don’t know what surprises me more.” Caroline popped a leftover piece of the taco sushi into her mouth. “That mom would talk to Blake for this guy or that Blake might become a high school football coach.”

“You have to admit,” Moira said with a grin. “He’d look good on the sidelines.”

Natalie snorted out a laugh. “Yeah, but the outfit wouldn’t entail nearly enough spandex.” Personally, she’d enjoyed seeing his legs encased in football pants.

“But his handsome face would be,” Moira teased.

“Stop it!” she said, and this time she could tell they were okay with one another because there wasn’t any heat to it. She would have said it the same way if they’d been sharing a room and her sister had thrown a pillow at her.

“Just saying,” Moira responded with that same silly grin on her face.

“I’m not going to talk to Mom about her role in all this.”

Caroline nodded her head slowly. “Good idea.”

“I concur with Caro here,” Moira said. “Mom doesn’t like being called on the carpet.”

Who did?

“I haven’t said anything to Blake about the job either,” she said, even though her mind kept spinning circles around it. What would it mean if he took the job and stayed? What would it mean if he rejected it? “We don’t discuss the future.”

“Probably wise,” Moira said. “You need to discuss the past first.”

Yeah, and if they survived that…maybe, then maybe they could talk about the future. “I don’t know where any of this is leading,” she whispered, feeling that familiar squeeze in her heart. Even after kissing him—which had been at once hot and heartbreaking—she felt more at sea than ever.

Of course, she wanted to kiss him again. Couldn’t wait to kiss him again. Couldn’t wait to see him smile in that earnest way of his. She turned to sap just at the thought of it.

“Give yourself plenty of time to see where things go,” Caroline offered, taking another sip of her whisky. “You don’t need to rush things.”

She needed to tell her body that. Kissing was one thing, but sex was another. It would be a huge step, and while her body was raring to go, she didn’t think she was emotionally prepared for what it would do to her.

“It’s okay to be scared,” Moira said, cutting a piece of her fish taco and putting it on Natalie’s plate. “We’re here for you. For whenever you want to talk. And I’m sorry…for what I said earlier. I can be a bitch sometimes too.”

“Friends?” Natalie asked them.

Caroline bumped her side. “Silly, don’t you know sisters are forever friends?”

They finished their meals, and she took care of the check as an extra way of saying thank you.

But as she drove out of Denver, the pressure rose inside her again, increasing the closer she came to Dare Valley. Caroline said to give herself time to figure out what she wanted with Blake.

What was the old saying about time marching on?

She just hoped it wouldn’t march all over them.

Blake marked his time by his progress with Natalie in the coming weeks.

Two days after their first kiss, she kissed him again while they were watching their next
Outlander
episode. Three days after that, he initiated a kiss after they went for another run in Killer Pass. Four days after that, he cupped her hips to his and kissed her and kissed her after a quiet evening of steaks and baked potatoes and playing Frisbee with Touchdown.

Her cues became his compass. So far, she hadn’t invited much more than kissing and light touching—completely clothed. Certainly nothing south of the waist, which seemed forbidden territory. He stayed in well-traveled areas: her mouth, her jaw, her cheeks, even the lobes of her ears. Sometimes he journeyed east to her right shoulder, rubbing it to ease the tension she carried there. Other times, he journeyed west to the curve of her neck to remind himself of the taste of her skin.