Then He Kissed Me (10 page)

“Oh, yeah, well, have fun.” The woman left the restroom, clearly disappointed.

“Witch,” Lauren muttered under her breath. She went back to the table. Nate was studying the menu.

“What’s the smile for?” Nate asked.

I just defended your honor
! Lauren wanted to shout. “Nothing.” She took another sip of her wine. “What did your sister want?”

“Exactly what I thought. She was checking up on us.”

“What did you tell her?”

“I told her we were having a good time.” He paused. “We are, aren’t we?”

“Yes,” she said. And she meant it.
Free food
and a
chance to wear the shoes
had turned into the nicest night she’d had in a long time.

“I know you own a vintage clothing store,” Nate said. “I’ve seen it from the outside when I’ve gone into The Bistro.” He pointed to her dress. “Is that the kind of stuff you carry?”

“Yes, but this dress isn’t authentic vintage clothing. It’s what’s called retro-style. And…it’s something I made.”

“You made that yourself?” He looked impressed and Lauren couldn’t help but feel gratified.

“Yep. Designed and sewn by my own two hands.”

“I remember you used to draw stuff like that. In art class.”

She almost choked on her wine. “How on earth did you remember that? Nate Miller, don’t tell me you had a crush on me in high school!” The instant she said it she wished she hadn’t. It was an outrageously flirty thing to say and normally she would never tease him like that. What was wrong with her? She should cut herself off from the wine. Now.

“No,” he said with a perfectly straight face. “Allie Grant was my unrequited high school crush.”

“Oh.”
God
. Now she just felt stupid. Well, of course he had a crush on Allie! Didn’t everyone? Her ex, included.

“But I always admired your talent. May I ask you a question?” He was so polite. So…not tipsy. Like she was beginning to feel.

He waited for her response.

“Sure, ask away.”

“I also remember you wanted to be a fashion designer and go to New York.” At the look on her face he added, “It was in the yearbook. Under your senior picture.”

“Did you memorize everyone’s senior aspirations?”

“No.” The quiet way he said it made her brain feel buzzy. What was that supposed to mean?

She shook her head.
Food
. She needed food. She flagged down the waiter. “I’m starved,” she said to Nate. “Can we order?”

“Of course.” He ordered the same surf and turf she’d had last Saturday and this time she ordered the salmon. Their salads came, followed by their entrees and Lauren began to feel more like herself again. More in control.

“Do you make a lot of your own clothes?” he asked.

“I used to. Before I opened up the shop. But between the business and Henry and Daddy, I don’t have a lot of time anymore.”

“That’s a shame,” he said thoughtfully. “You should think about selling your own designs.”

“If I only had the time,” she said cheerfully.

He ordered another bottle of wine and they spent the rest of their meal talking about whatever popped into their heads. He told her about Lola and Bianca and the nurses in the office and how they seemed suspicious of him. She was surprised he confided those sorts of details with her. She listened mostly, every now and then giving him some encouragement. She told him about her divorce from Tom and how lucky she was that they had managed to stay friends, and how they split custody of Henry in a way that so far—thank God—worked out for everyone.

Every once in a while, she caught herself staring at his hands. She liked the way they moved when he talked. Not animated, but more precision like. His fingers were long and the knuckle on the middle finger of his right hand was larger than the one on his left.

“What happened to the knuckle on your finger? The one on your right hand?” she blurted.

He seemed startled by her question and she realized she probably shouldn’t have noticed something like that. It seemed…strangely intimate. Then she remembered the conversation she had with that woman in the bathroom and the old saying came to mind; big hands, big…
Whoa
.
Don’t go there, Lauren!

What was wrong with her thought process tonight? It must be the alcohol making her think things she normally wouldn’t.

“I broke it when I was a teenager,” he said, holding his hand up in the air. “Accidentally slammed it in a car door and it never healed right.”

She needed to steer the conversation away from his body parts. “So, what made you want to become a doctor?”

“I’ve always been good at math and science. Plus, I wanted to find a way to help other people. To give back to the community.”

Lauren stilled. That was the exact same phrase Jessica used when she had mocked Nate in the bathroom last week.

“Is that your stock answer?”

 His gaze sharpened. “That’s the answer I always give when anyone asks.”

“But…it’s not the truth?”

“The first part is. I
am
good at math and science.” He hesitated a moment. “I hate when people ask me that question. But the truth is, the real reason I became a doctor is because I wanted a profession where I had the potential to make a lot of money.” He blinked, like he was surprised by his own answer.

She didn’t know why she should feel disappointed. But she was. “That sounds a little mercenary, doesn’t it?”

He stared at her through those glasses of his. He looked a lot like his sister, but where her eyes were a light brown, his were more of a green color. Hazel, to be exact. With long dark eyelashes—

 “When I was a kid, my dad died and left us in a bad position. My mom had to go back to school. She worked nights at a nursing home while going to class during the day. Money was…tight. She graduated and got a good job, but it was hard on her. I don’t ever want to leave my family in that kind of situation.” He finished off his glass of wine. “I might not get rich staying here in Whispering Bay, but I’ll be comfortable.”

Lauren felt her face go red. “I didn’t mean to imply—I’m sorry,” she mumbled. But he didn’t seem angry. He motioned for the server to bring the bill. She reached inside her purse and pulled out a credit card and handed it to him. “Please, I’d like to pay for my dinner.”

He handed it right back. “That’s not necessary. Having dinner with you tonight was my pleasure.” The way he emphasized the word pleasure made her flush again.

Get a grip, Lauren. He didn’t mean it that way!

The woman she’d spoken to earlier tonight in the bathroom walked by their table. She made a point of making eye contact with Nate and smiled. He smiled back, clearly confused, then frowned as if trying to place her.

“You don’t know her,” Lauren said.

“How did you know what I was thinking?”

“She and I had a few words in the bathroom. She saw you on YouTube and asked me about you.”

“Oh.”

“I told her you were,
uh
, well endowed.”

“You told her
what
?”

“I told her you had a big…you know,
male member
?” she whispered. Then she hiccupped.

He looked mildly disgusted. Or maybe he was amused. She couldn’t tell which. “Are you drunk?”

“No!”

Nate pulled out his cell phone and quietly made a call. Lauren’s head began to ache. She wasn’t drunk, but she was certainly feeling uninhibited. Why else would she have told him about her encounter with the woman in the bathroom? Had she really just used the phrase
male member
? Momma would have a hissy fit.

She glanced around the restaurant, then did a double take. They were the only ones left sitting at a table. She looked at her watch. They’d been here for over four hours! How had that happened?

He finished his call. “I’m not drunk,” he said, “but I’ve had enough to drink that if I got pulled over I might not pass a sobriety test. And you definitely wouldn’t. So I asked Lanie to come pick us up. We can leave our cars here overnight and get them in the morning. It’ll take her thirty minutes to get here. It’s a nice night. Not too cold. I thought we might take a walk on the beach while we wait for her? Clear our heads a little?”

She nodded. He was being polite again.
Hers
was definitely the head that needed clearing, not his.

They walked out of the restaurant. Nate spoke to the two valets and gave them some cash while Lauren looked on. Then they walked down to the boardwalk. Her feet were killing her already. There was no way she could make it across the uneven wood in these heels, so she slipped them off and took a few steps in her bare feet. “Oh, my God,” she moaned. “That feels so much better already.”

Nate looked uncertainly down the length of the boardwalk. “It’s dark and there are probably splinters, maybe even something sharp out there.” He turned and presented her with his back. “Hop on and I’ll give you a ride.”

“You’re going to give me a piggy back ride down to the beach?”

“The alternative is to potentially cut your foot.”

Put that way, there wasn’t much choice. Lauren was in the process of trying to figure out how to hop onto his back (and still maintain some sense of ladylike dignity) when he lowered himself and grabbed the back of her legs with his hands. He positioned her on his back and then hoisted her up so that her legs anchored around his waist. She threw her arms around his neck and he took off jogging across the boardwalk, taking the steps down to the beach at the same brisk pace. Lauren clung to his neck and screamed in laughter. “Don’t you dare drop me!” she cried.

They got to the bottom step and he gingerly helped her slide off his back. They both laughed this time. She’d never heard Nate laugh before. It was a masculine, deep laugh that sent a shiver all the way down to her red painted toe nails. They stood there just inches away from one another, he in his shoes and she in her bare feet. For some strange reason, she’d never felt so vulnerable in her entire life.

“I didn’t realize you were this short,” he said, gazing down at her. It wasn’t a put down; it was merely a statement of fact, the way he said it in that no-nonsense manner she was beginning to get used to.

“Hence, the heels.” She raised her pumps in the air to make her point.

He took off his shoes and socks and neatly arranged them on the bottom of the stairs. She placed her heels next to his shoes and they walked toward the shore.

It was chilly now, but her jacket kept her warm enough that she wasn’t miserable. Plus, there was something sort of nice about being on the beach with Nate. Neither of them said anything. They just kept walking, the cold salt water tickling their toes anytime they got too close to the gulf. Walking on the beach had been a good idea. Her head began to clear from the effects of too much wine and rich food, and she was shocked to discover that she was sorry the night was almost over. It occurred to her that this was probably the only time she’d ever be alone with Nate Miller, at least, in this sort of private setting, and she found herself curious.

“I’m sorry about Jessica,” she said, trying to work up the courage to ask what she really wanted to know. What on earth had possessed him to ask a cold fish like Jessica to marry him? Had he really been in love with her? Was he still in love with her? It had only been a week. Of course he was still in love with her! No one got over someone they were in love with in just a week.

“I’m not sorry.”

She stopped walking. “You’re not?”

He stopped walking, too. “Strangely, I haven’t thought of her much all week. I’ve concluded that it means that I don’t miss her. Which leads to me believe that I wasn’t really in love with her. I think she was more like a habit. We dated for three years and we were highly compatible in a lot of areas. Plus, she has an extremely high I.Q., which I thought would bode well if we ever had children. Which, I wanted, but,” he frowned, “she never actually committed to. So, no, I’m not sorry at all.”

He began to walk again, but Lauren stayed frozen in her tracks. “Highly
compatible
in a lot of areas?
Extremely
high I.Q.?” She started to laugh. “Are you kidding?”

When he realized she wasn’t keeping up with him, he backtracked to his former spot. “No, I’m not.”

“And
that’s
why you asked her to marry you?”

“Well, the sex was good, too.”

“
Geez
! Do you always say exactly what’s on your mind?”

“No.” His gaze dropped to her mouth. “Sometimes I do exactly what’s on my mind.”

And then he kissed her.                                 

Nate Miller was
kissing her
. And it wasn’t a brotherly kiss. Or a bumbling first kiss. Or a semi-drunken kiss. It was a toe-curling
ass-kicking
kiss that nearly made Lauren swoon. His mouth was firm on hers, and then this tongue, hot and persistent, made its way inside. And heaven help her, but she’d never felt anything like this before.

Maybe it was because no one had kissed her since she was eighteen—no one new, that is. After eleven years of marriage, she knew each and every one of Tom’s kisses. But this kiss
spoke
to her. It reached down inside her, asked her a question, and demanded that she answer. It was direct and no-nonsense. Just like he was. Her arms wrapped around his neck and because she’d ditched those heels she had to get on tiptoe but she still couldn’t properly reach him. So he bent over, his arm circling her waist, and crushed her against him. His chest was surprisingly hard.
And God, he smelled good.

“Hey, kids! Mom’s waiting for you in the parking lot!” A voice, sarcastic and full of humor at the same time, brought them both spiraling back to earth.

Nate broke the kiss. “
Damn it
,” he muttered. “That’s Lanie.” He dropped his arm from her waist and steadied her by the elbow.

“Oh…I…” She shook her head. How could he talk after that kiss? Or form a coherent thought for that matter?

They walked back to the boardwalk, picked up their shoes and slowly made their way back up the stairs where Lanie was waiting. “That looked pretty cozy,” she said.

“Not now,” Nate warned his sister.