Chapter 12 #2
“That’s so sweet,” Karen Kelly cooed from her spot across from Preston. She was looking at Nathan, so she didn’t see the quick glare Preston shot her. “I love hearing stories like that. It gives me hope that one day it will happen to me.”
“Oh, it will definitely happen to you,” Nathan assured her.
“It’s all about finding the right person.
The reason I jumped around the way I did was because I never felt that spark of connection with anybody until Bella.
Then—bam!—it was like being hit by lightning.
” He brought his hand down on the table and caused everybody to jump.
“Most people die when they’re hit by lightning,” Preston replied dryly.
“Not everybody, though,” Nathan replied, smooth as silk. “The ones who survive have a new appreciation for life. That’s exactly how I feel about Bella.”
My cheeks burned as multiple sets of eyes swung toward me. “What he said,” I supplied in a low voice, a nervous giggle escaping. “He’s better with words than me. Sorry.”
“She’s my shy little dumpling,” Nathan agreed, rubbing my back. “We’re working on her being more comfortable in crowds. Unfortunately, that’s part of the game. She never had anybody encouraging her before, so I consider that my main job.”
Preston’s eyes narrowed into slits of hate. “It all sounds lovely. Too good to be true, really.”
That was about as overt as he was going to get with an insult. I didn’t say anything. Of course, he wasn’t done.
“Has she bored you to tears yet with her horror-movie knowledge?” Preston asked, although it sounded like a challenge.
Nathan didn’t bat an eyelash. “That’s one of the things we bonded over. I mean, I write horror books. Why wouldn’t I be excited about spending time with somebody who loves the same things I love?”
“But… it’s gross knowledge,” Preston insisted. “She once, at a dinner party, reenacted a scene where a serial killer put two girls in sleeping bags and banged them against trees at the same time to kill them.”
He acted like I was the one who had killed them in front of an audience. The people at that party had asked what my favorite horror movie scene was. I was just being honest.
“Yeah, the Jason movie where he goes to space.” Nathan gave me a fond look, and there was nothing forced about it. “We have not talked about that movie, but now that I know she loves it as much as I do, I think I know what we’re going to watch tonight as foreplay.”
A sound escaped, something like a whoosh, and I giggled even though I kept telling myself he wasn’t trying to be funny. He was purposely being weird to push Preston’s buttons. I couldn’t help myself, though. There was just something about him.
“Horror movies are disgusting,” Daisy volunteered out of nowhere. “They’re misogynistic, and they’re full of sex.” She lowered her voice for the second part.
“Don’t you write romance?” Bree challenged.
“Clean romance.” Daisy gave her a dirty look. “Not all of us write smut to make a buck.”
Bree’s smile was feral. “Those of us who want to make money do.” She cast Hayley an apologetic look. “Sorry.”
“No, it’s true.” Hayley held out her hands. “I know I would make more money if I wrote sex scenes. I just always picture my mother glaring at me when I try to imagine what that would look like.”
“That’s because your mother was probably a good, Christian woman,” Daisy said knowingly.
“She was definitely a Christian,” Hayley agreed. “I loved her. She wasn’t always good, though.”
“It’s funny that you write clean romance when your boobs are always so ‘look at me,’” Bree noted, holding her hands in front of her chest to demonstrate.
“Excuse me?” Daisy sounded scandalized as she crossed her arms over her chest. “What did you just say?”
Preston made a throat-clearing sound that was meant to dissuade everybody from arguing. “Let’s not fight. There’s room for everybody here. People like different things.” His eyes landed on me. “I’m surprised you’re not trying to write horror. Wasn’t that always your dream?”
Nathan gave me a sidelong look. “Do you want to write horror?”
“Oh, well…” I shrugged. “One day.”
“That’s probably why you fell in ‘love at first sight,’” Preston offered haughtily, using air quotes. “You’ll make a nice steppingstone for her career.”
I glared at him. “I would never date somebody, let alone marry somebody, just because they could help my career. That’s insulting.”
“You were with me until it was no longer beneficial.”
I should have let it go. That would have been the smart thing to do.
I was too irritated, though. “I was with you until I came home and found you in bed with your father’s secretary, playing Choo-Choo Magoo,” I shot back.
“I didn’t leave because you couldn’t help me any longer.
I left because you’re a terrible person. ”
I’d done enough. I should have kept my mouth shut. I was on a roll, though.
“Also, your excuse that I wasn’t adventurous enough in bed was ridiculous,” I continued, knowing even as I was saying it that it would be a mistake.
“You were terrible in bed, and the only reason you didn’t want to have sex with me is because I tried to train you—literally over and over again, for years—and you still couldn’t find the clitoris.
Not that you ever went looking or anything. ”
A deathly pall settled over the table.
Across from me, Bree broke into a wide grin.
Hayley pressed her lips together—I had no idea if she believed clitoris was a dirty word—and looked to be battling a smile.
Brody’s eyes had gone to the size of saucers.
Next to me, Nathan was smiling as if I’d just given him the best Christmas gift in the world. He slid his arm around my back, gave me a squeeze, and lowered his voice.
“Now, that right there was entertaining,” he whispered.
“You don’t think it was too much?” One surreptitious glance toward Preston told me he thought it was too much. Way, way too much.
“Nope. It was just enough.” Nathan reached for his beer with his free hand. “That was good stuff, Bellarino.”
I blew out a sigh. “He’s going to make me pay for it.”
“Not on my watch, he isn’t.”
Weirdly, I believed him.
Two tables over, Preston sat stewing.
Talk at our table turned to horror movies. Everybody had a favorite to throw out, even Hayley.
Maybe saying what was on my mind, something that had been suppressed for years, wasn’t a bad thing after all.