Chapter 3
“How are the renovations coming along?” Dina asked.
“Good,” Natalie said, focusing on the fresh batch of vanilla cupcakes she had just sat on the marbled counter to add frosting. The less they spoke to each other, the better. Vincent had been at her house for the past four days, and they’d only exchanged a handful of words. A part of her resented what he’d said in Sally’s motel room. Then again, he’d fixed her AC the next day, so she couldn’t afford to hold a grudge.
If only she still had the scorching temperature to blame for the internal fever whenever she remembered their short-lived hook-up.
“I told you his coming was a good idea,” Dina said.
Natalie clenched the icing tube, and squirted too much blue frosting on the cupcake. Vincent. Coming.
Guilt wrapped around her heart for a long beat, then squeezed it. Dina had no idea about what had happened, and Natalie would rather die than tell her. From what she knew about Vincent, she doubted he’d spill the beans to his ex-wife. “Yes,” she said simply, and faked a smile. Sure, Dina had been intrusive when she’d invited Vincent, but she meant well.
“And you know what else is a good idea? The pot roast I’m cooking. You’re coming over for dinner tonight.”
“Dinner? Who else will be there?” she asked, to make sure Dina hadn’t invited Vincent along.
“I invited Josh from across the street.”
Josh Anthony? The mechanic who worked in his father’s repair shop? He’d invited her on a date a few months ago but she’d politely declined. Josh had a kind smile and wasn’t bad to look at, even though his tall frame was rather too slim to her taste. “Are you playing cupid? Because it won’t work, Miss Dina.”
Dina shrugged her off. “Natalie. You’re young and have so much life in you. You need to date again. Josh is a wonderful young man.”
“What if I’m not into him?”
“Give him a chance.”
What chance? Josh didn’t evoke in her the type of sinful fantasies Vincent had. But Josh is nice and won’t tell you off like Vincent. “If I don’t like him, I don’t want you to ever set me up with anyone again. Deal?”
Dina grinned. “Deal.”
“Since you’re cooking pot roast… I’ll be there.” Natalie had to put her newfound desire for Vincent on a leash. Indulging in a different kind of meat was the least she could do to keep her sanity until he finished remodeling her home.
* * *
Hours later, Natalie fixed the stubborn thin strap of her flowery dress that kept sliding off. She’d run home and showered after Dina’s dinner invitation. Maybe it was a good thing to stay away from Vincent for a night.
Dina had a point.
Natalie had been a widow for four years, and lonelier for longer. She owed it to herself to have a good time and give Josh a shot. What if he turned out to be more fun than she expected? Or maybe he’d just be a congenial good guy—a nice change from Clint and certainly not as much of a threat as Vincent.
“Natalie,” Dina said with flair when she opened the door for her enthusiastically, as if they hadn’t seen each other in a while. “I’m so glad you made it,” she continued, ushering her inside. “You remember Josh from across the street, right?”
Josh stood up, all nervous energy, with a smile denting both cheeks. “Hi, Natalie,” he said, and even she detected the eagerness in his voice. Either he’d shown up early and Dina had drilled him with questions, or Josh was indeed happy to see her.
“Hey Josh. How’s it going?”
For the next thirty minutes, Natalie sat next to him and allowed herself to wonder. What would be like to date a guy like him? He came with no baggage and no complications. Sure, her stomach didn’t dive to the floor when he spoke and her skin showed no goose bumps so far. Maybe those things really didn’t matter.
“And then I told Dad I’d never shoot a hog again,” Josh finished telling another hunting story he’d shoved down her throat even though she didn’t necessarily enjoy them. She grew up with family members who hunted and fished. Though she was no vegetarian, she didn’t find pleasure in hearing tales involving animals getting hurt in the wild.
Josh snickered, and she flashed him a neutral smile.
Keep your mind open.
She looked down at her beer bottle, and clenched it, hoping if she’d rub it she would magically disappear far away from Dina’s.
Dina kept setting the table, though the cute round table didn’t need much fussing. But she imagined her boss did so to give them one-on-one time, which only made it more awkward.
The doorbell rang. Perhaps a neighbor had an emergency and needed help. The possibilities teased her mind as Dina rushed to open the door, fixing her hair on the way as if the Pope was coming for dinner.
“Vincent. I’m so glad you got my voicemail. Join us,” Dina said.
Natalie straightened her shoulders. Until then, she had slumped on the sofa next to Josh, but the very real form of Vincent walking into the living room set her body on full alert. Her heart raced like those childhood days when she had to make it to the school bus stop so she wouldn’t be late.
She heard Vincent’s low, deep drawl and it sent a rumble though her body. Over the past few days, they’d stayed out of each other’s way. But tonight they’d have to at least engage in small talk so no one noticed any bad blood between them.
“… And the young man talking to our sweet Natalie is Josh Anthony. Perhaps you haven’t met him yet. He’s great with fixing cars,” Dina said to Vincent, then pointed at Natalie and Josh.
Josh rose from the sofa and stretched out his hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, sir.”
Vincent glanced at Josh’s hand for a lingering moment before accepting the handshake.
Vincent’s gaze focused on her while Josh and Dina chattered. She swallowed. His eyes quietly reprimanded her, a dark gleam coating his irises. His facial expression sobered, and a thrill moved through her. He’s… jealous?
Maybe Vincent didn’t know it yet… but he wanted her almost as much as she wanted him. And she’d be damned if she’d let the opportunity slip through her fingers.
* * *
“Aren’t they sweet together?” Dina whispered after dinner.
What a fool he’d been. His ex-wife insisted he attend dinner, and if the last years of their marriage had been sour and bitter, her cooking had never lost its freshness. He’d decided a change of scenery was the perfect answer to his current problem—a constant boner with Natalie’s name on it.
“No,” he said curtly.
Natalie and that boy still sat at the dining table, and she chuckled at something he said. Vincent had had enough of that bullshit; he stood and went to the living room, thinking of a good excuse to either leave the place or clock the young bastard. Jay or Jacob or whatever the hell his name was, flushed as he kept talking. Fuck. He wasn’t man enough to handle a woman like Natalie. Hell, he isn’t even boy enough. He’s a freaking fetus.
Dina patted his back. “I know what you’re thinking.”
His stomach roiled. Shit. Sweat broke on his forehead. He’d hoped Natalie wouldn’t mention anything to Dina about their make-out session back at Sally’s Motel. “You do?”
With a nod, she gestured for him to sit down but he remained standing. “You’re protective. She was married to our son, but life is for the living. Natalie has the right to be happy.”
He ran his fingers through his hair. “Damn right. Do you know this kid?” he asked, pretending to care about who his sexy daughter-in-law dated. If he had an ounce of character, he’d wish her the best instead of plotting ways to murder her date. Hell. If he had an ounce of character, he’d keep in mind the same lame-ass excuse he’d given her: the two of them would never work. Period.
“He’s hardworking, nice and even goes to the same church I go to. Best of all, he has a crush on her. Can’t you tell?” Dina said.
Her words didn’t soothe him any. As Dina continued to rave about Josh, Vincent watched Natalie. Why had she put on such a flimsy dress? The yellow flowery pattern didn’t hide her taut nipples. Did that gawky boy turn her on? Blood thrummed in his veins. Coming to this dinner had done nothing to get her out of his mind.
Quite the opposite. He pinched the bridge of his nose.
“Are you okay?” Dina pulled him back to reality.
He sucked in a breath. “Yup. Tired, that’s all.”
“I can imagine.” She flashed him a smile. “Thanks for coming back and helping Natalie out. I’m sure our Clint appreciates you keeping an eye out for his wife from wherever he may be,” she said, her voice wavering at the end.
“Does he?” The two words slipped from his mouth before he could stop them.
Dina’s eyebrows furrowed, her face tightening. “What on God’s green earth do you mean?”
He cleared his throat. Bringing up their differences regarding their parenting styles wasn’t the smartest idea—neither was mentioning Clint’s own wife probably had an alphabetical list of complaints. Guilt wrapped around his chest like a rope. He looked into Dina’s kind eyes, and exhaled. He’d break her heart if he said anything negative about their son.
Not that he had the right—he’d fled. He abandoned them, and maybe if he had stuck it out his son wouldn’t have turned into a brawl-seeking, raging alcoholic. “I don’t mean anything. I, like you, believe there’s a better place for us to go to once we kick the bucket,” he said, hoping his after-life comment steered them away from the uncomfortable topic.
Her shoulders sagged, and her face softened again. “I figure after losing my son, there’s really nothing worse that can happen to me. Positivity is my strategy to keep living.”
He squeezed her shoulder. Maybe they could be friends after all. “You’ve always been the smart one.”
“Excuse us…” he heard Josh’s voice.
He turned around to find Josh and Natalie standing. “We’re going now.”
“Didn’t you drive here?” he asked Natalie, remembering seeing her old truck in the driveway.
She lifted her chin. “Yes, but Josh will follow me with his truck just to make sure I get home okay.”
“No need. I’m going soon too,” he said. Hell, he’d leave now if it meant the young buck kept his damn paws off her luscious body. “I can follow you.”
Dina nudged his elbow. “Let him follow her home. I’m glad y’all showed up.”
“Thank you for dinner,” Natalie hugged Dina.
Josh glanced at him, motioning to give him a hug or a handshake, but Vincent just shook his head and looked away. Manners be dammed.
An hour later, Vincent paced the living room of her house—alone. He’d left Dina’s not long after they did, and a foolish part of him had hoped she’d be home already. Yeah, right. He’d showered, slipped on some shorts and a white undershirt. Then, he worked up a sweat again, doing push-ups on the laminate floor he couldn’t wait to rip apart and replace with the type of hardwood she deserved.
He’d kept the porch light on, but inside he’d turned off any distractions. Natalie was bound to come home soon, or he’d go out looking for her. The full moon spilled brightly into the living area. Every so often, he peered out the window.
Damn the woman. She’d proved her point. He wanted her—wanted her so badly he not only knew in his gut he’d make the second worst mistake of his life by pursuing her, but there was nothing he could do to stop it from happening. His temples throbbed, and he rubbed them, eager to will away the headache. For better or worse, Natalie would be his tonight.