Chapter 3
CHAPTER THREE
“You don’t need scores of suitors. You only need one…if he is the right one.” ~Louisa May Alcott, Little Women
D uncan Ellis. Butterflies twerked in Nat’s stomach as she stared into a pair of familiar bourbon-colored eyes. It had been ten years since she’d stood in front of her high school boyfriend.
That early May rain had drizzled as they stood on his front porch. A shopping bag full of things he’d given her dangled from her hand. His letterman jacket she’d worn cheering from the stands at his baseball games. His royal blue homecoming hoodie she’d pulled on to keep warm at parties hidden within the cornstalk confines of his parent’s farm. His DVD of Pirates of the Caribbean she’d never watched. You didn’t break up and get to keep things.
“How are you?” Duncan wrapped his muscular arms around her.
“Good.” Nat pulled back, brushing a wayward tendril of sandy hair behind her ear.
“I heard you were back in town working with your dad.”
“Yeah.” She smiled. It was nice to have someone say with and not for .
“You did it. You became a doctor.”
“Yup.” Shifting foot-to-foot, her gaze flicked to her table and back to Duncan.
He looked the same and, somehow, entirely different. Those same slightly ruffled floppy blond waves. The once-rounded features had been replaced by sharp angles and a strong jawline. But a familiar bashful smile rested on a now chiseled face.
“What are you up to? Are you back in Perry or just visiting?” she asked.
“I moved back six months ago. I’m working as an Assistant District Attorney at the County Courthouse in Warsaw.” That self-conscious smile dissolved into a prideful grin.
“Amazing!” Her face lit up. “I remember when we’d watch those Law his brow puckered and gray eyes fixed on them.
“He is, isn’t he?”
Nat nodded. “Yup.”
“He never liked me.” Light laughter rolled through him. With a cheeky grin, he raised his hand and waved. “Hi, Clayton!”
Wide-mouthed, she grabbed his hand and yanked it back down. “Don’t poke the bear.”
“Should I poke you instead?” He gently tapped her upper arm.
Something buzzed across her skin and for the first time all night, and she beamed an honest-to-goddess actual smile. No tightness. No guarded firm lines. No almost reaching her eyes. It was unbridled and so delicious.
“Do you have the same number?” he asked.
“I do.”
“Me too.”
“Nat.” Noah appeared, placing his hand on the small of her back.
What is he… The touch melted her ability to think and caused her already-heated skin to become molten.
“It looks like it’s a madhouse. I came to get Elle and your drinks since it’s taking so long.” Noah motioned to Todd. “Two Doc Owens, please.”
“Yeah, yeah. Keep your crown on, Prince Charming,” Todd snarked, pulling a couple pint glasses down from the iron wagon wheel shelf hung above the bar.
He just shrugged at Todd before facing Duncan.
“Noah.” Duncan greeted, amusement sparking in his eyes.
“Duncan,” Noah returned the greeting while something besides amusement darkened his eyes.
Nat cocked a brow at the standoff between the two men, like gladiators meeting center ring. No doubt Noah came over on Clayton’s behalf. He always did this. People assumed Clayton followed Noah around, but it was quite the opposite. Noah often played guard dog to, or for, Clayton. As the younger sister, she’d borne the brunt of this her entire life. If it wasn’t one of them, it was the other.
“Well, I should get going. Natalie, it was wonderful seeing you.” Duncan leaned in, giving her another hug. “Call me. I’d love to get together and catch up.”
“Sure,” she said as he ended their hug and turned for the door.
“I bet he’d like to catch up ,” Noah added an almost sneered emphasis as Duncan walked out the front door.
Nat spun to face him. “What the hell was that?”
“What?”
She stabbed her index finger into his chest, trying to retain her annoyance and not swoon at the firmness under his shirt. “I already have one overprotective big brother. I don’t need another.”
Noah flinched.
Why is he flinching? No way had her poke done any damage.
“Here you go, your highness.” Todd plopped down two pint glasses with the right amount of head on them on the bar.
“Thanks,” Noah grumbled, his eyes fixed on her.
Todd’s gaze bounced between them. With a wry smile, he shook his head and walked away.
Pivoting to grab the drinks, she blew out a heavy breath. Ugh! This man! Plopping the drinks back on the bar, she whirled. “I don’t need Clayton nor you butting into my life. I’m twenty-eight. I’ve had boyfriends. I’ve had sex. Lots of sex.”
“I know.” He swallowed thickly. “I just want to look out for you.”
She threw her hands up. “I’m not a little girl anymore!” Granted, her rebuttal was little girl tantrum-like, but utterly justified. Even if only to herself.
Who was he to butt in? Her brother’s obnoxiously intrusive overprotectiveness, while just as annoying, was one thing. But Noah indulging in that behavior by intervening was quite another. With Clayton, she was the little sister. She knew that. Noah’s action was akin to rubbing salt in the “you’ll only ever be my BFF’s little sister” wound.
“I know you’re not a little girl.” His blue eyes heated as their gazes twined together.
Something sparked in the bonding nature of their interlocked stares. The intensity forced her to step back, bumping against one of the stools at the bar. Stumbling, she started to fall backward until Noah’s strong hands clamped on her shoulders and steadied her.
A charged electrical current coursed from his palm. The air between them snapped, crackled, and popped like Rice Krispies with the first splash of cold milk. His thumbs stroked circles on her bare upper arms. Each caress calmed and inflamed her scorched skin.
What the fuck is happening? Her breath shallowed.
“Sorry.” He released her, his hands threaded into his short dark hair. “You’re right. I’m just used to looking after you. Clayton is like a brother, so you’re…”
“Like a little sister.” The sting was not dulled by the words coming from her own mouth.
With a firm line sketched on his face, Noah grabbed the drinks. “I’ll carry these.” He turned, looked at the table, and then back to her. “Sorry. I just remember when you dated Duncan. You two broke up so soon after Evan that… It just didn’t sit right with me that he’d break up with you right after your brother died. It speaks to his character.”
Evan? The mention of her long-dead brother slammed into her like a freight train. Instead of the sensation of being crushed, red-hot anger surged in her.
Nat clenched her jaw, yanking the drinks from him, some of the creamy red ale sloshed onto both their hands. “I can carry my own damn drinks and decide who I spend time with.” She stomped toward the table and then whirled on him with narrowed eyes. “For the record, I broke up with him. I’m not some damsel who got her heart broken that you need to protect from the big bad ex-boyfriend. Why don’t you focus on your… whatever you have going on with Willa and let me make my own decisions.”
“Nat—”
She ignored him and walked away.