Chapter Eleven
Natalie
My phone buzzes with an incoming text, rousing me out of sleep. I roll over in bed and snag it, shielding the screen so it doesn’t wake up Lexi. We had an impromptu slumber party last night, complete with the cold pizza, room service desserts, M&Ms from the mini-fridge, and a reality TV marathon. It almost made me feel better about the shit-show that is my life.
I frown when the message on the screen is from Clay and not Alice the nurse, like I expected. Carefully, I tuck my phone against my chest and tiptoe out to the bathroom, away from Lexi’s snoring. Once there, I hop up on the counter and begin to read.
CLAY: SORRY IVE BEEN ABSENT
CLAY: SHIT CAPSLOCK
CLAY: Sorry. Trying again. I hope you are well. I’ve been absent the last few days due to work stuff. Hope you are doing okay back at the hotel. If you need anything, let me know and I’ll make sure it’s delivered to you today. I hope you are well.
NATALIE: Did you just . . . ask me if I was well three times in a row? Are you drunk?
CLAY: No. I’m just not good at this texting shit. Should I have sent some smiley faces?
My screen fills with a few random emojis, and I have to bite back my laughter. This is just ridiculous. Cute, but ridiculous. My wounded heart feels a little better at hearing from him. Not much, but some.
NATALIE: You can skip the emojis, I promise. And I’m fine, though I wish you would have said something about work a few days ago. I’ve been feeling stressed and abandoned. Did I do something wrong?
CLAY: No, I’m just an asshole. I’m sorry, Nat. I keep fucking this shit up. I’m gonna be better about things, okay? I promise. And I’ll be there in about an hour to pick you up. Do you have a swimsuit or do you need to get one? I can wire money to the front desk.
NATALIE: A swimsuit?
CLAY: Yeah, there’s a family get-together. We’re going tubing. You ever been?
NATALIE: No. What do I need to bring?
CLAY: Just a swimsuit and a towel. And sunblock. I’ll handle the rest. Just look pretty.
CLAY: Of course, you always look pretty. So just look like you.
CLAY: Didn’t mean to imply you weren’t pretty. I think you’re gorgeous.
CLAY: Perfect.
NATALIE: Are you flirting to make up for how you left in the middle of the night?
CLAY: Trying to. Is it working?
NATALIE: I’m still hurt. You sure I didn’t piss you off?
CLAY: Not at all. We’ll talk more in person, okay? Feels weird to do it over text. My thumbs keep getting in the way. Just know that I am not mad, you are perfect, and I will be there in an hour.
NATALIE: If you’re sure you’re not mad. You do realize you bought me and can tell me to shut up if I piss you off, right?
CLAY: I would never tell you to shut up.
NATALIE: Okay, well . . . can I bring a friend on this tubing trip if it’s a bigger get-together? My friend Lexi came over to keep me company while you were, uh, gone.
CLAY: Sure. Bring her along. If she don’t mind hanging out with a bunch of my brothers.
NATALIE: She won’t mind.
CLAY: Ok see you in an hour.
NATALIE: Can you make it 2? I have to find a swimsuit ASAP.
CLAY: Two it is. Be there soon.
I race out of the bathroom and head to the bed, shaking Lexi’s shoulder. “Wake up! We have to go shopping right away.”
Lexi sits up, a bleary-eyed expression on her face. “What? What?”
“I need you to go tubing with me today.” I sit down on the edge of the bed and clasp my hands. “It’s with Clay and his family.”
“Clay, the bastard Clay?” She rubs a hand over her face and smears old eye makeup. “The one that’s ignored you for three days?”
“Yeah, that’s the one. He said he was sorry and he’ll explain to me when we get there. So, will you go with me?”
She groans as if she’s in pain. “When is it?”
“He’s picking me up in two hours and I need a swimsuit before then.”
She groans again and pulls a pillow over her face. “Must we ‘people’ before noon?”
“You have to go swimsuit shopping with me,” I tell her, undaunted. “And then you have to go to tubing with me.”
“You know I hate sunlight,” she tells me from beneath the pillow. “And society. But mostly sunlight.”
“It sounds like Clay’s family is going to be there. Lots and lots of billionaires.”
“Don’t care.”
“They’re weird,” I say cajolingly.
Lexi pulls the pillow down and gives me a contemplative look. “How weird?”
“Human-train-wreck weird,” I tell her. I actually don’t know if that’s the case. But I do remember the Price brothers vaguely from my time back in high school, and when Knox showed up with Clay the other day, he looked as much of a mess as Clay did. So I feel they’ll be sufficiently weird enough for Lexi.
“All right, I’m in,” she tells me. “But you can’t make me wear florals.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it.”
* * *
An hour and a half later, I have a small bag packed with sunblock, flip-flops, a towel, and a swimsuit. Pickings were slim considering the early hour and the last-minute nature of things, and I’m lucky I found a one-piece that covers everything and doesn’t look heinous. It’s bright red, and has a low cut front that made Lexi smirk and crack jokes about Baywatch, but it doesn’t look all that terrible. I have a crochet white shrug for my shoulders, and I’m wearing jeans and a plain pink T-shirt while we wait for Clay to arrive.
Lexi, meanwhile, is dressed in true Lexi form. She’s wearing a black dress over black leggings and has her long dark hair parted down the center of her head. She found a black swimsuit, since she’s a tiny, limber twig of a human, and she looks like Morticia Addams come to life, a comparison she adores.
And she’s calm. So calm. As I sit on the end of the bed and twitch, she’s calmly doing yoga asanas in the middle of the floor. Me, I’m nervous. I’m about to see Clay again, and we’re going to talk. The thought is filling me with all kinds of anxiety. What if he’s letting me off the hook? What if he’s decided that he’s gotten what he wants out of our deal? What if the reason why he left is because he’s not attracted to me, or he’s done with me, and those reassuring texts were just so he could let me down in person?
“You’re destroying my Zen,” Lexi calls from her spot on the floor. Her eyes are closed and her palms are pressed together under her chin. “Either come join me and relax, or go vibrate with bad energy somewhere else.”
“It’s my hotel room,” I remind her.
“Yes, and it’d look super weird if your guest was doing yoga in the hall, wouldn’t it?” She pats the floor. “Come on. Do yoga with me. I’ll go easy on you.”
I pull my phone out. “Actually I think I’ll go in the hall and check in on my father.”
“Coward.”
She’s not wrong about that. I’m utterly terrible at yoga and I always feel like a clunky, ungainly elephant next to Lexi’s graceful gestures. “Be back soon.”
“I’ll be here.”
I head into the hall, leaving my bag on the bed. It’s quiet out here, the only sound that of a vacuum a few doors down. I lean against the wall and then sink down to the floor, dialing Alice’s number.
The nurse answers on the second ring. “Oh, Ms. Weston. How are you today?” She sounds a little stressed. In the background, I can hear sobbing. Male sobbing.
That has to be my father. My heart squeezes painfully. “I thought I’d call and see how Dad’s doing.”
“He’s not having a good day,” Alice tells me in a kind voice. “He’s been very upset all morning. I didn’t want to text you and worry you. It’s just a spell and he’ll recover soon enough. I’ve called in the weekend nurse and we’re not leaving him alone, I assure you.”
It’s that bad that Alice had to get reinforcements? “Should I come home? I’m only a few hours away—”
“No, no,” Alice reassures me. “It’s handled. This is part of the job, though one of the less charming aspects. It’s just one of those things that comes with dementia, as I’m sure you know. Even if you were here, I don’t know that you could help. He doesn’t recognize anyone today.”
My stomach burns with a mixture of guilt and nerves. It should be me there taking care of my father. “But if I can help—”
“You cannot, Ms. Weston. I promise you that it’s handled. I don’t want you to worry. When he’s lucid again, I’ll make sure he calls you, all right? It’s truly nothing to worry over.” The crying on the other end dies down a little, and turns into angry yelling.
I wince into the phone. “If you’re sure.”
“I’m sure. This is our job. You’re welcome to check in as often as you like,” Alice says kindly.
“Thank you, I will.” I hesitate, then add, “I’ll try and visit this weekend if possible.” I can talk to Clay about it, let him know how my father’s doing. Surely he won’t mind a visit.
“I’m sure your father will like that. I’ll tell him when he’s himself again.” Her voice is cheerful throughout the strain. “Is there anything else I can do for you, Ms. Weston?”
“No, thank you.” I hang up, troubled. Not for the first time, I worry that I’ve somehow made the wrong choice. That I’ve picked my own selfish wants and needs over that of my ailing father. Then, of course, I wonder how much of that is guilt and how much is truth. Sometimes it’s so hard to tell. And isn’t this for my father, in the end? So I can pay off his debts and get the house fixed up?
Lies, a little voice whispers in my head. You know this is really for you. You want Clay Price.
It’s true. I can’t even pretend it’s just for the plumbing. I want Clay just as badly now as I ever did. I might not understand him, but that doesn’t mean I don’t hunger for him.
I wonder if that makes me a bad daughter. I stare at my phone screen glumly.
“Nat?”
I look up—and do a double take.
It’s Clay. He’s approaching from down the hall, a pack slung over his shoulder. He’s wearing a pair of bright blue swimming trunks that almost reach his knees, and an old T-shirt that’s got the sleeves (and most of the side) cut off to reveal tanned skin underneath. He’s wearing a baseball cap over his hair.
And he’s shaved.
His beard is gone. Completely, utterly gone. I can’t stop staring, because he looks so different. Gone is the rugged, hairy Clay from a few days ago, the man with the wild beard and wide grin. In its place is the boy I fell in love with seven years ago, his face a little paler along the jaw where his beard was. It’s like looking at something out of the past, and for a moment, I can’t breathe.
“You okay?” He pulls his cap off and adjusts it, and I can see he cut his hair, too. Instead of hanging long and unkempt, it’s cut short on the sides and slightly longer on top. He looks so different.
“Your beard,” I say faintly, shocked.
Clay comes up to me and I can see the strong lines of his jaw. My fingers itch to touch, but I don’t know what to think, or if that’ll even be welcomed. So I clench my hand at my side.
He gives me a slow smile that looks so different—and yet so very similar—than when his beard covers his face. “Didn’t like how it tore up your skin when I was kissin’ ya. Made your face all red and scratchy.” He reaches out and cups my chin, rubbing his thumb along my jaw. “I didn’t like that it hurt ya.”
“I didn’t mind it,” I protest, and then I blush, because I really, really didn’t mind it brushing up against certain spots of my anatomy.
“Well, it can grow back. But we’ll see.” His green eyes search my face and he drops his hand. “Everything okay?”
I recover quickly, nodding. “I was just calling to see how my dad was doing. He’s not having a great day, but the nurses say there’s not much to be done about it.” I bite my lip. “I know they’re right, but I still worry.”
“Do you need to cancel today?” He shifts his weight, stepping away from me, and I want to protest and pull him closer. For some reason, it’s important to me that he not step away from me.
“No,” I say slowly, as if I’m still convincing myself. The nurses are right. I’ve been at my dad’s side on days like this, and he won’t recognize me. He won’t recognize anyone. Going out of my way to head there—and break my deal with Clay—won’t solve anything. If he’s got competent nurses at his side already, I’ll just be in the way. There’s nothing I can do. “No, I’m going to stay.”
His smile breaks out then, big and genuine, and I smile back. “Good, because I wanna talk. We need to head out if we’re meetin’ my family, though.”
I gesture at the room door. “My friend Lexi’s inside. I’ll get her.”
“You don’t have to,” a voice announces on the other side of the door. “I can stay here. You crazy kids go have fun in the sun doing people-y things.”
I roll my eyes. “She wants to go,” I reassure him.
“No, she doesn’t,” Lexi calls out from the other side. “She’s just being a good friend.”
“The best of friends,” I agree. “And she’s already got a swimsuit, so she’s going.”
“Damn it,” I hear Lexi mutter.
Clay’s brows draw together, studying my face. He looks confused.
I’m not surprised. Lexi’s a lot to take in the first time you meet her. “My friend is a little . . . theatrical,” I whisper. “And eccentric.”
“She should fit right in, then,” Clay tells me. “My family’s got a whole lot of weird.”
* * *
It’s not a bad drive out to the Guadalupe River, though it’s definitely an awkward one. For one, there’s no limo today. It’s only Clay and his oversized pickup truck. He drives, I sit in the middle, and Lexi sits to my other side. There’s not a lot of privacy and Clay and I don’t get a chance to talk, so the conversation that we do have is awkward and mostly revolves around the weather or the river itself. At one point, Lexi “innocently” asks him what work he had that involved him leaving me behind for three days, and that shuts down the conversation pretty fast.
It’s silent the rest of the way, until Clay parks his truck. “You ready?”
“No,” Lexi says flatly.
I nudge her. “Yes, we are. Get out of the damn car, Lexi.” I look over at Clay and smile. “She’s fun, I promise.”
“No, I’m not,” Lexi adds, but she gets out of the car.
I can tell Lexi’s going to be a lot of fun today. I’m worried about bringing her, but she brightens at the sight of the group of people standing near a picnic table at the edge of the water. There’s several large inner tubes waiting, and a man and a heavily pregnant blonde woman stand near a grill, starting a fire. Seated atop the table are three other bearded men that look like Clay’s brothers. They’re all dressed in torn-up, trashed shirts, trucker caps, and swimsuits. One’s even wearing a camo swimsuit—the youngest-looking, whose blond beard looks a bit scruffier than the others.
“You’re right, this is going to be fun,” she announces.
“I’m glad you approve,” I mutter, but I get all distracted when Clay moves to my side and puts his arm around my waist, like I’m his girlfriend. Like I belong to him.
Then again, I do belong to him, at least for a little while. Maybe I’m reading too much into things.
We approach, and the moment we do, the three guys seated on the table start snickering into their cans of beer, their gazes focused on Clay.
“Yuck it up,” Clay says, good-natured.
“You look like you’re twelve,” one of his brothers comments, and the others howl with laughter. They start elbowing each other and talking over one another loudly, teasing Clay about how white his jaw is compared to the rest of him.
The man at the barbecue turns, and he gets a knowing look on his face as he glances over at me. “You must be Natalie,” he says, putting out a hand for me to shake. “I’m Boone, Clay’s older brother.”
“Pleased to meet you,” I tell him. “This is my friend Lexi. I hope it’s all right that we showed up.”
“I insisted,” says the blonde, coming up to Boone’s side and hanging off his arm. Her belly is enormous, and she’s wearing a long, filmy cover-up over her dark swimsuit, but neither manages to hide the fact that she’s heavily pregnant. “The more the merrier, right? I’m Ivy, Boone’s wife and Clay’s sister-in-law.” She beams at me, friendly and sweet. “We’ve heard so much about you already.”
That sets the three men on the table to snickering again, and Ivy’s look grows furious. She shoots them an angry stare and they get quiet.
“Let me introduce you to these hyenas,” Clay murmurs, unruffled by his brothers. He points at the youngest-looking brother, who also has the lightest hair. “This one’s Seth.” The next down the line is darker skinned than the others, a faint Hispanic cast to his features. He’s gorgeous, too, his beard thicker than night. “Gage.” He points further down the line, to the one I’ve seen before. “And you met Knox briefly.”
Seth eyes Lexi up and down. “This your friend? She looks weird.”
“Thank you,” Lexi says immediately. She crosses her arms over her chest and glances around. “So this is society? Fascinating.”
“This is my friend Lexi,” I announce. “She’s really very sweet once you get to know her.”
“Take that back,” Lexi demands, and saunters ahead to the water’s edge. “I’ll be by the water, frightening children, if anyone needs me.”
Ivy’s eyebrows go up in surprise.
“Oh, she’s serious,” I point out. “But I promise she’s harmless. She’s mostly going to lurk and look menacing.”
Knox gets up from the table, clearly intrigued, and heads after Lexi.
“Well,” Ivy says, flustered. “My sister, Wynonna, and her friend are running late, and the food won’t be ready for at least another hour or so. You guys want to raft for a bit and head back about noon?”
I start to offer to help out, when Clay takes my bag from my shoulder. “Sounds good. Me and Nat are gonna head down to the water.”
Seth cracks open another pair of beers and offers one to Gage. “Is Wynonna’s friend hot?”
“Come on,” Clay murmurs, gesturing at a distant building. “You can change in there.”
Clay
I figured that after a few days of bein’ away from Natalie, I’d calm the fuck down and my dick would stop standing at permanent attention. Turns out, not so much. My mouth goes dry when Nat comes out of the bathroom, a towel knotted at her hips. The swimsuit she’s wearin’ is screamingly red, with a deep, deep vee that shows off her fantastic cleavage. I want to bury my face there all over again, and it takes everything I have not to grab her and throw her down on the ground so I can ravish her in front of everyone. Should be against the law to look that fuckin’ sexy.
It gets worse when she drops her towel, revealing the high cut up the hip that shows a ton of leg, and she starts smoothin’ lotion all over her skin. I want to do that. My hands itch with the need to touch her, but I know if I do right now, I’m gonna end up making it all erotic.
She probably just wants to swim.
I can’t help but watch her as she pulls her hair up, tying it in a knot atop her head. When she lifts her arms, her breasts arch high, and—
Fuck, I am a man in pain. My dick’s hard as ice and I’m going to be scarin’ children more’n Lexi is if I don’t do somethin’ about it. I grab the rafts and head down to the water’s edge and jump in. It’s only about waist deep here, and lots of people are getting onto their rafts and preparing to go downstream. It’s crowded here by the little dock, but once you get into the water, you have more space to yourself. Which is good, because I don’t intend on anyone rafting with us. I wanna talk to my girl, alone.
I need to explain myself.
I raise a hand when my gorgeous Natalie appears at the water’s edge, scanning for me. She nods and says something to her friend Lexi, who’s standing in the bushes nearby, probably makin’ good on her promise to scare kids. Knox’s hanging out with her, clearly amused by her strangeness. Figures that those two would get along. Knox has a few screws loose himself.
Nat eyes the water, then delicately gets in. “I’ve never rafted before,” she admits as she wades up to me. “How does this work?”
“Just like you think it does,” I tell her, holding one raft toward her. “I’ll hold on to you so we don’t drift apart.”
“All right,” she says, and her cheeks get red.
Huh. Yeah, I guess that could be a double entendre. I kinda like the thought of holding on to her so we stick together. And then I wonder what part of her she’s thinkin’ of me holdin’ and my dick gets all hard as a rock again.
I help her into her float, and then slide into mine. There’s a rope that runs along the edge of each raft, and I grab hers with my hand, hauling her raft against mine.
“What now?” she asks, glancing over at the shore.
“Now we drift,” I tell her. “And we talk.”
“Oh.” She doesn’t sound thrilled. The ultra-polite look returns to her face and she seems determined to gaze everywhere but at me. Jesus, she acts like talkin’ to me sounds like the worst idea ever. Am I that bad?
Maybe I am. That’s fuckin’ depressing.
Still, I ain’t gonna give up. Natalie’s here with me right now, and that’s a start. Like Knox said, I got her here, now I need to romance her right. I wait as we drift away from the shore and the clusters of other tubers. When it’s just her and me on the water, I tug on the rope and spin her raft until she’s facing me. “You gonna ignore me? Do I need to tickle your foot?”
A small smile curves her mouth. “Is that a threat? I can tickle yours. I seem to remember you being far more ticklish than me.”
I wag one foot at her, the one that’s missin’ two toes. “There’s less of it than you remember.”
Natalie gasps and sits up in her raft, rockin’ both of us. “Oh my god! Clay! What happened?”
“Just a riggin’ accident back when I was younger.” I shrug. “Piece of machinery slipped and my foot was under it. Lost part of my boot and part of my foot, but it coulda been worse. I know guys that have died on the rig.” I grow quiet, thinking of Eddie. “It’s a good job, but it’s a hard job.” It ain’t safe, either.
“Do you still do it? Rigging?”
She has a worried look on her face that makes me feel good. She concerned about me? That’s a nice feelin’. “Me? Naw. Not since we hit the big money. Now we just sit in meetin’s and tell other people what to do.” I grin. “And we work on our side projects, like me with my camo.”
Natalie looks thoughtful. “It’s strange to think about how much has changed since we knew each other before, isn’t it?”
Some stuff has changed, she’s right about that. But more ’n’ more, I think that a lot has stayed the same.
Like how I feel about her. And I need to tell her. I ain’t letting Natalie Weston slip between my fingers again. “Didn’t bring you out here to show off my ugly toes,” I tell her.
“They’re not ugly,” she says staunchly. “They tell a story.”
“An ugly story,” I tease back, but she looks unhappy at the thought. It’s like she really cares about me, and that makes my chest get all funny and squeezed up at the thought. “Anyhow. I brought you out here because I wanted to tell you I’m sorry.”
“Sorry?” She looks over at me.
I nod. “For makin’ you cry.”
Her brows go down and she looks annoyed. “But you’re not sorry you abandoned me immediately after we had sex and then disappeared for three days without a word?”
“Well, no, I guess I’m sorry about that, too.” Shit, I’m fuckin’ this all up. “I kinda thought you didn’t wanna see me for a while, Nat.”
“Why would you think that?”
“Because the moment I got up from the bed you started cryin’? Not exactly what a guy pictures when he finally sleeps with the girl of his dreams.”
Her expression grows soft and she finally meets my gaze. “And am I the girl of your dreams?”
“Always have been,” I tell her, my voice husky with emotion. “That ain’t never changed.” I slide my hand to her ankle, holding on to her instead of the rope edging her raft. Her skin is soft and warm, and I rub my thumb against it. “Haven’t you guessed that by now?”
She shakes her head. “Sometimes it’s so hard to tell. One minute I think you’re the old Clay, and the next, you act like you hate me. I don’t know what to think.”
“I’ve been tryin’ to be someone else. Thought I’d pay you to be my girl and get you out of my head. Get what I wanted and move on. Except the more I’m around you, the less I want to move on. I just kind of want to stay right here. With you.”
She licks her lips. Her foot wiggles ever so slightly, and then she nudges my arm with her toe. “So that’s what the big deal was? That you were going to pay me to have sex with you and get me out of your head?” At my nod, she sighs. “You know there are probably plenty of women out there that’d have sex with you for free, right? No strings attached? Just be in a relationship with them?”
“Didn’t want anyone else. I wanted you.”
“Because I wouldn’t have sex with you back when we were teenagers?”
“Maybe partly. Mostly because it was you.” I continue rubbing my thumb up and down on her smooth skin. “You’ve kinda always been the perfect woman in my eyes. You’re sexy, pretty, sweet, kind, classy, and you’ve got a good sense of humor. I expected to come back and find you with a husband and three or four kids.”
“Me?” She shakes her head. “No. It never seemed right. Plus, I was too busy taking care of my dad. He had a stroke the night you broke up with me.”
“I broke up with you?” I snort. “More like you decided I wasn’t good enough for you.”
Natalie looks confused, and she shifts in her raft, pulling her leg out of my grip. I grab the rope on her raft before she can drift away. It turns us to where we’re facin’ each other once more, her feet near my hand and my feet near her hand.
“What are you talking about?” she asks. “You told my dad you didn’t want me to go away to college.”
“I never said that. Ever. I said I wanted us to get married. That I loved you and I wanted to make it work. Your dad showed up that night we were all supposed to have dinner and told me that you were runnin’ off to Stanford and you didn’t have the guts to tell me on your own, so he was gonna break up with me for you.”
She gasps. “You’re serious?”
“Why would I fuckin’ lie?” I growl. “It’s been burned into my brain for the last seven years. I didn’t think it was true, so I went to your house that night and then you mocked me and said you wouldn’t marry something like me. I thought you were someone else until that night. Then I realized I didn’t know you at all.” Hell, I’m gettin’ angry just thinking back on it, and the hurt and betrayal it brought. “Doesn’t matter that it was seven years ago,” I tell her. “I ain’t never forgot about it, and I ain’t never forgot about you.”
She’s gone pale, her eyes glossy in that way that tells me she’s fightin’ back tears. Aw, hell. I didn’t wanna make her cry. “You dumbass,” she says after a long moment. “You really think I would send my dad over to you to break up with you? Without talking to you first?”
“It didn’t sound like you,” I say defensively. “But how was I supposed to know? I went to your house to talk with you about it and you were ugly to me—”
“That’s because my dad went to me and said he went to talk to you about me possibly going to college and you said you didn’t want me to! That you wanted me to stay in your trailer and be your little wife.”
“What?” I give her a crazy look. “That’s the dumbest shit I’ve ever heard. If you wanted to go to college, I’d have worked two jobs so you could pay for your tuition and not have to worry about workin’. I wanted what you wanted, Nat.”
“Well, I wanted to be with you.” She buries her face in her hands. “God, we are such idiots. We let my dad play us. I hate that he’s an actor. He’s far too good at lying.”
“So you didn’t say that shit?”
“None of it,” she says with a horrified little shake of her head. “I got home and he gave me an acceptance letter to Stanford. I never even applied! I should have known that he was up to something, but he just launched into how you wanted to hold me back from my dreams, and I never even questioned where it came from. I just got hurt and lashed out.” She groans. “God, we were so stupid. Dad totally played us both.”
I don’t know how to feel about this. Part of me’s frustrated—seven years have been lost to a stupid argument that could have been prevented if we’d both not been so very hotheaded. Part of me is relieved—Nat never thought I was trash.
We stare at each other for a long moment.
“Seven years,” I say slowly. “Wasted.”
She inhales a deep breath and closes her eyes, then shakes her head. “I don’t know if it was wasted. It sucks and I could shake my father for putting us through that—”
“I could do a lot more than just shake him,” I tell her drily. Like put my fist through his face.
“—But,” she continues. “I can’t even say that if you’d have asked me to go with you that I’d have been able to go. My dad had a stroke that night. His sixth wife, Johanna, left him right after that and there was no one but me to take care of him. His money was gone, and it was like everything crashed overnight. I don’t think I could have left his side, even if we were good.”
I don’t like hearing that. “So you still would have chosen him over me.”
“There’s no choosing,” she says, exasperated. “I’m all he’s got. I wouldn’t abandon him when he was sick and hurting, just like I wouldn’t have abandoned you if you were in the same situation. And now he’s . . .” She looks away and wipes at her eyes. “He doesn’t remember where he is most days. His mind is going. He’s eighty-seven and in bad health, and I feel guilty for being away from him even now, even though it’s necessary . . .” Her voice trails off and she gives a little shake of her head.
And I feel a little guilty, too. Because I’m the one forcing her to hang out with me when her dad’s ailing. Doesn’t matter that I hate the bastard and that he’s always treated Nat like another one of his servants. She loves him. She’s always wanted his approval, even when he didn’t want to give it. But it galls me that she’d consider taking care of him over bein’ with me. That it’s even a choice.
For me, there’s no choice. Nat’s the one I’d pick over anyone and everyone. But I don’t want to make her miserable. “You want to go home?”
“No,” she says, and there’s a tremulous little laugh in her throat. She wipes at her eyes again. “I really don’t. But I feel guilty because I like being with you. At least, I do when you’re nice to me. Sometimes you’re not and then I want to punch you in the face.”
I chuckle, relaxing a bit. I reach for her ankle again, desperate to touch her. When I do, she rubs her foot against my arm and my dick gets hard at that small caress. “I have to admit I have been an asshole upon occasion—”
“Upon occasion?!”
“—But I was doin’ it because I didn’t want you breakin’ my heart again.”
She goes quiet, her smile fading a little. “And now?” she asks.
“Now I think it’s too late for that, because I never stopped caring about you. Ever.”
Nat bites her lip and reaches for the rope on my raft, twining her fingers against it. Her gaze moves to my foot, the one with the two missin’ toes. “I don’t know, Clay. You really, really hurt me when you left the other day. And when you threw in my face that you bought me. It doesn’t mesh with the Clay I thought I knew back then. The Clay I fell in love with.”
“It’s the same person.”
“I think that, and then sometimes, I think too much time has passed.” She reaches over and touches one of my remaining toes, as if to remind me that we’re not the same as we used to be. “Maybe too much has changed in the last seven years. I mean, look at me.” She gestures at her body. “There’s a lot different.”
“Or maybe nothin’s changed and you need to let me prove it to you,” I tell her fervently. “Just give me a chance.”
“I have to, don’t I? You’ve contracted me to your side.” Nat arches a dark eyebrow at me.
“I ain’t sorry about that,” I tell her. “It got me you back in my life, and if you want me to pretend like I’m a nice guy and let you go back home, it’s not happening. I want you here by my side. I want you in my bed. I want you in my life, Nat. And if I have to be a rich-guy asshole to drag you away from your father’s house, then that’s what I’m gonna do.”
A tiny smile curves her mouth. “Was all of this just to get me?”
“Everything’s for you,” I tell her soberly. “Haven’t you guessed that by now?”
Her eyes shimmer with tears again. “I’m scared, Clay. What if we’re not the same people? What if too much is different?”
“Then we learn about the new stuff together,” I tell her staunchly. I don’t care if she’s different. I wanted Natalie then, and I want her now.
In my eyes, nothing’s changed. Nothing ever will. She’s mine and always will be.