Chapter 5
5
Nick
“Don’t get any ideas.” I’m poked in the chest as she passes by, and then adds, “I won’t stay long.” That’s disappointing.
“Come on in,” I reply sarcastically to the back of her head. Letting myself enjoy the view over my shoulder, I take in her body—the toned legs dipping out of her shorts and her obvious curves under that baggy linen shirt. “You won’t be here long enough for me to get ideas? Too late for that, sweetheart.”
She tries not to give me the pleasure of seeing her smile, but it was worth the effort when she turns back and reveals it. “Tatum hasn’t returned, and she has the key. You don’t mind if I wait here, do you? You’re much more interesting than a lobby full of lovey-dovey couples.”
“No problem. Lovey-dovey?” I kick the door closed and follow her into the villa’s living area.
She stops and looks around before turning back to me. She tilts her head, her hair flowing in soft waves over her shoulder, and she smiles. “You know, making out, holding hands, kissing, dressed up for dinner or drinks. Basically, couples who look more like they’re having an affair than together for any length of time.”
“Interesting observation and assumption.”
“Listen, Nick. Real love is for fairy tales. I can name a dozen couples who make things work for financial reasons or emotional stability, for the kids, or to fight the fear of loneliness. They don’t put affection on display or make a production when their wife or husband enters a room.” She shrugs. I’m not sure if it’s a fleeting emotion of sadness or resignation I see cross her blue eyes, but it doesn’t belong there.
“So what you’re saying is you’re a romantic?” I quirk a smirk and give her a little wink.
“Yeah, I’m just waiting for my knight in shining armor to show up and whisk me away on his white horse.” She’s almost convincing by the longing heard in her tone and far-off gaze.
“Where would you go?”
As if the spell is still cast, she replies, “To our castle, of course, silly. And guess what?”
“What?”
“We’d live happily ever after.” Her smile is lost under the admission as if a thief has stolen her joy.
Leaning against a corner of the room, I cross my arms over my chest, finding it fascinating how animated she can be one minute and then introspective the next. “That’s very romantic for a non-romantic.”
“What can I say? A girl can still dream even when her feet are planted in reality.” She cuts over to the bar and grabs a bottle of water. “Can I have this? I can order more for your room later.”
Although she’s already drinking it, I say, “It’s all yours, and what kind of host would I be if I made a guest restock the supply?”
Natalie’s already moved on toward the terrace. “We have an incredible view from our room,” she says, “but wow, the ocean is endless on this side of the hotel.” Excitement colors her expression when she reaches for the handle of the oversized glass door. Over her shoulder, she asks, “May I?”
“Of course. Make yourself at . . . well, it’s not my home.” I shrug. “But a home away from home.” She smiles. God, she has a great smile, and I’ve enjoyed every last one of them.
“A home for a few days. Sorry for ruining it by interrupting whatever you were doing. First at the bar and now at the hotel. It’s almost like we’re becoming a thing.”
“Guess we were meant to meet.”
“So I could barge into your life three times? You’re very optimistic, Nick.” She slides the door open.
“There was no barging either time.” Quite the opposite. “The last time, in fact, I held the door wide open.”
“And you’re polite enough to give cover for a girl who can’t hold her rum.” She sends a wink my way before firing off a list of aggravations— stupid fashion, Tatum, purses, the hotel’s response —which solidifies my thought that, sadly, she didn’t come knocking willingly. Missing a few pieces to this puzzle, I ask, “Why couldn’t you get into your room?”
“I’m blaming my ex-friend Uma for that,” she says with a roll of her eyes. I chuckle but bite my tongue. “Can you see anywhere on my body where I could possibly hide my ID?”
She’s giving me permission to check her out, so that’s what I do.
Slowly.
Taking my time, I start at the top and let my gaze slide over her until I reach the bottom.
Twice.
By the second tour of her curves, she’s squirming a little, which makes me chuckle again. “Do you really want me to answer that, Natalie? Because that means I need to check every inch of you.”
“You mean again? Because you just did it twice,” she whips back, but I also catch her blushing. I wouldn’t mind touching those cheeks to see how soft and warm they really are. She waves her arms, and then her energy deflates and they land hard at her sides. “Anyway, no ID. No room key. No phone. So, here I am.”
Typically, I don’t rely on astrology or New Age beliefs, but she’s different from the other women I normally meet. I want to have sex with her. Sure, naturally . But I kind of don’t mind the lead-up, the foreplay to it with her. Smirking, I tip my head down and run my fingers through my hair.
Okay, she doesn’t make a ton of sense, but she’s entertaining, nonetheless. The earlier far-off look in her eyes is now focused, the entire universe appearing to weigh down her shoulders as she stares into the distance, and she asks, “Think we can see the boat from here?”
Keeping some distance between us, I rest my forearms on the railing, giving her room for the thoughts hijacking her attention. She leans far enough over the railing like she just might be able to touch the ocean. Or at least one of the boats in the harbor.
“No. It was going to cruise around the island.” The distant break in the waves keeps my eyes captive until I look farther out to sea, my gaze reaching the cruise ships on the horizon.
“Where are you from?”
I turn to her. “Why so serious?” I’m given a shrug, so I ask, “Should we get to know each other, Natalie?”
She laughs softly, turning her gaze my way. “We should, Nick.” The K crashes on the end of her tongue as if she’s just given in but wants to make sure I’m aware.
I’m aware of her. All of her. She’s wholly entertaining but has so many layers left to unfold. “I’m from LA, but don’t hold it against me.” I chuckle, inwardly shaking my head at myself. I’m making a fool of myself. Why the hell did I say that ? God, I used to have game. Where has it gone? Lost after years of having my nose buried in books.
Angling my way, she says, “You know, I’ve been thinking.”
“That can be dangerous.”
A soft smile returns. “Especially when you’re tipsy.” She was definitely drunk, but I’ll give her tipsy now as she begins to sober. “I don’t think we properly introduced ourselves.”
“No?”
Shaking her head, she purses her lips. “What do you say we start over?”
“I like our beginning.”
This time, she laughs, and when the joy reaches her eyes, the blue sparkles like the ocean in the afternoon. The wind stirs her blond hair around her shoulders, and the layers seem to play favorites with where they fall. Her tan is deep enough to have settled into her skin long before her vacation. The delicate clang of the bracelets around her wrists reminds me of the wind chimes at my parents' beach house.
Natalie is captivating—fine features highlighting a heart-shaped face. I journey from her eyes and then take a quick slide down the gentle slope of her nose anchored by full pink lips. Being in LA, I know women who’ve paid a lot of money for the natural beauty that Natalie possesses.
A desire to kiss her surges through me, so I turn away, distracting myself with live music drifting from somewhere down below to quell the craving. It doesn’t work. I still regret not kissing her earlier. Don’t think about it. Just talk. “And you?”
“I think we were born enemies. I’m a New Yorker through and through.”
“Eh, there’s no East Coast versus West Coast rivalry here. New York has seasons. We have sunshine. You have the Yankees. We have Hollywood. Pros and cons to both. I guess it’s just what you’re used to.”
“I love the beaches on the Pacific, but we have the Hamptons.”
“You have Katz’s Delicatessen, but we have In-N-Out Burgers. It all evens out.”
She scoots her foot over and taps the side of my shoe. “I’ve never had In-N-Out. Am I missing out?”
“Yeah, you’re definitely missing out.”
Sipping her water, she glances toward the setting sun before lowering the bottle and saying, “Maybe the next time I’m in LA, you can take me.”
“It’s a date.” She’s shaking her head before the words leave my mouth.
“Actually, I’ve sworn off dating, so let’s call it a meetup.”
“You’re very specific with your no’s. No dating? No ideas. No?—”
“No sex.” She’s not snippy about it but more matter-of-fact. Then something comes over her, and she reaches over, resting her hand on mine like we’re old friends. “Sorry if that came out wrong. That was more of a reminder for myself.”
Catching her hand before it retreats, I hold it between us. “Am I that tempting?” I lean over and whisper, “C’mon, you can tell me the truth.”
Her head sways to the side and then returns to its rightful place, her eyes never leaving mine. “Honestly?”
“Honesty is always the best policy.” Even the soon-to-be lawyer in me doesn’t believe that everything is so black and white. There’s a lot of gray area to rule out before picking a team. When she gently returns her hand to the railing and her gaze to the ocean, the missing connection is felt under my skin. She carries a world of emotions in the depths of her blue eyes, and I hate that the option to read them has been taken away.
She nods.
Grinning smugly, I nudge her. “I’ll take that as a yes. You’re not so bad yourself, by the way.”
She crosses the divide to poke me in the stomach, which makes me chuckle. I clench my abs to make it worth her while. Of course. She says, “I bet you say that to all the girls.” It’s not lost on me how a look of approval flashes across her face.
I might have been enamored with her the first time I looked into her eyes but getting to know the real Natalie feels like a reward. That she’s comfortable sharing more about herself is the cherry on top.
There are hints of her socialite status, something I’m familiar with back home, though she doesn’t appear to carry her worries in bags around with her— designer or not . She’s opened her up in ways the rum hid prior. My stomach rumbles, and I rub my stomach. “I’m starved. I was about to order food before a certain someone barged into my room.”
Laughing, she says, “And here you had me believing I’d made your night better.”
“You did. So much better. I’m glad you’re here, Natalie.”
She moves in such a seductive way, sliding her hand along the railing before she turns with the grace of a ballet dancer. “So am I.”
Her eyes flash to mine, knocking the breath from me. If she can capture me with a look, I can only imagine what else she has in store for me. I clear my throat. “Would you like something to eat?”
“I could eat. You left me craving?—”
“Touché.”
“Ha! Actually, I was referring to the In-N-Out talk. I’d love a burger, cooked medium with all the toppings.”
“Lettuce, tomato?—”
“Everything. Even the ones that cost extra.” Her little wink is cute, though the sassy side of it is more dominant. “ Oh! And I want a mound of fries,” she says, demonstrating with her hands. “Not just a side. A whole plate dedicated to them.”
I’m almost afraid to ask. “Anything else?”
“Extra ketchup on the burger and for the fries. A soda?—”
“Let me guess. Large?”
She nods excitedly. I can’t wait to watch her eat a meal that could feed a linebacker.
“Got it.” I go inside and call room service. It’s then I realize that I’ve held the key to her presence in my pocket the whole time. What can I say? She’s very distracting. I find myself smiling while watching her nose around the terrace.
When I hang up and fill the doorway, I debate for a hard few seconds, but I know telling her is the right thing to do. “I can call Harrison for you. He could let Tatum know you’re locked out of the room.” I regret the moment the words leave my mouth because, if I’m honest, I don’t want that. If she takes me up on the offer, she’d be gone before we have a chance to get to know each other. And I definitely want to get to know her better.
I hold the phone out for her, wanting to see something in her eyes that tells me I’m not alone in this desire to spend more time together.
Her bottom lip is tugged under her teeth as she appears to have her own internal debate. When her gaze glides up to mine, she says, “It’s fine. It’s a party on a yacht. They can’t make it return to shore, so I’m good waiting. She’ll return eventually.”
Pocketing the phone, I reply, “The island is small. I’m sure they won’t be gone all night.” I’m tempted to text Harrison to stay away a little longer. “But we should have time to eat before they return.”
“We can still eat together even if they do,” she says. “And I bet the boat doesn’t have burgers.”
“No,” I say, enchanted by the way she thinks. “I bet it doesn’t.”
“What should we do in the meantime?”
“Meantime is such an interesting phrase. The space between, the time difference between the past and the future.” She comes toward me. “Whatever happens in the meantime doesn’t count, right?” The words are subtle, but I hear the same desire to stay.
“It’s time unaccounted for.”
“Under that definition, technically , we can do whatever we want.” Her eyes brighten with possibility as she looks into mine. “What should we do with this meantime ?”
Stretching my arm out, I signal behind her. “A dip in the plunge pool?”
A smile tugs at the corners of her lips. She comes to the door and leans against the frame, her body silhouetted in the doorway with the sun shining behind her.
I could stay there, but she’s a lot tempting herself. I move just inside the villa, and since she hasn’t said anything, I throw out, “Or we can watch a movie?”
Crossing her arms over her chest, she says, “You sure are forgiving considering I invaded your villa.”
“We’re in the meantime, so is this even happening?”
She giggles. “Good point.” Her chest rises and falls with a deep inhale and huff of an exhale. Standing up straight, she adds, “I should probably be up front with you?—”
“About?”
Disappointment filters through her fine features. “I can’t sleep with you.”
Smirking, I reply, “I wasn’t going to bed, so no worries.”
“You know what I mean.”
“You told me not to get any ideas the moment you walked in and mentioned no dating or sex, so I figured that included tonight as well.”
“Very perceptive.” When she turns to the patio, her hair swings through the air. As she walks back outside, she adds, “I’m on a love embargo, so even if I wanted to have sex with you, Nick, I can’t.”
Completely fascinated, I return to the terrace to do some invading of her personal space. “What you’re saying is that you want to, but can’t?”
She plucks the front of her shirt. “It’s hot.”
“It sure is.” Damn, is she ever.
I could spend the rest of the night analyzing her reaction. I’m going into law for a reason. It’s concrete, set, but flexible when approached from the right angle. Psychology isn’t an arena that suits me or my analytical mind. Though I still find myself wanting to impress her, which is crazy considering we live on opposite sides of the country.
There’s no future for us. And there’s no tonight either due to her love embargo, which is another Natalie curiosity. Yet I can’t resist flirting with her. Wanting her.
Unlike her cute, drunken comments earlier that she does want me, finds me sexy, and even called me her dream man, she’s changing as she sobers. Still gorgeous. But less assertive.
And that’s when I realize what makes her different from other women I’ve dated and why I’m so intrigued by the woman in front of me. “I can’t read you, Natalie.”
Sitting on the chaise, she leans back and kicks her feet up. Closing her eyes, she soaks in the last of the sun’s rays, and says, “I’m an open book, Nick. If you can’t read me, you can ask me anything.”
I sit on the chair beside her. “Where do we begin?”