Dirty Scoundrel

“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.

Chapter Twelve

Natalie

Today might be the most fun I’ve had in . . . forever.

I know that Clay’s manipulated me into being at his side today. I know I should be angry over that, just like I should be angry over the fact that he abandoned me for three days, minutes after we had sex. That should be unforgivable.

Just like I should be furious that my dad lied to both me and Clay, forcing us apart seven years ago.

Strangely, though, I’m not mad anymore. I’m not mad at any of it. I just want to move on and be happy. My dad’s a shell of who he used to be. And Clay? Clay’s apologized and wants to try again. He wants to show me that he can be the person he promises to be.

So I’m going to stop living in the past and harping over past hurts. I’m going to accept things as they are, and look forward to the future.

It’s strangely freeing.

For the first time, it feels like I have a future again. Not only is Clay paying off our debts and giving me room to breathe, but I might actually have a future with someone. Strange how I never realized how lonely I was until just now. I’ve always been a bit of a lonely person, and I don’t make a lot of friends. I’ve been fine with that—but being around Clay makes me want something more.

I enjoy the day. Gosh, do I enjoy the day. After I have the big “talk” with Clay, it feels like all the tension between us has evaporated. I’m able to relax and have fun tubing. Clay and I go down the river for about an hour, then get out at the designated spot and take a shuttle back to the picnic area. There, Ivy and Boone are busy serving up hamburgers and hot dogs. More beer is passed around, along with bottles of water. Ivy’s too pregnant to go tubing, so there’s a constant crew at the picnic spot, and people swap out to go tubing in pairs or groups. Clay’s brothers are funny and rowdy, always clowning around and teasing each other. They give him shit for shaving his face, and then when Knox steals someone’s towel, the brothers pile onto him in their teasing. It seems that Knox likes to steal things just to see if people notice. Ivy chats with me for a while, telling me about how she and Boone met, and about the baby she’s carrying, and she’s incredibly sweet and friendly. I like her a lot. Actually, I like everyone that I meet today.

Lexi spends most of the day harassing Clay’s brothers, who harass her back as if she’s the weird friend they never had. She even shows Ivy how to do a few yoga pregnancy poses, and Seth and Knox also attempt to do the poses, much to everyone’s amusement.

I pick at the food back and forth, drink a few beers, and Clay drags me off to go tubing regularly, I think so we can get away from the others. He holds my hand or keeps a possessive arm around my waist at all times, and it really does feel like I’m his girlfriend and not just his “paid assistant.”

And we kiss. A lot. Oh gosh, do we kiss.

As night falls, no one seems in a hurry to leave. We take one last twilight ride down the river, and then return our tubes. Boone sets up a bonfire, and then everyone hangs around it, talking and laughing. Lexi plops down next to me with a bar of chocolate and marshmallows, and we set to making s’mores. The younger Prices keep trying to steal Lexi’s s’mores the moment she makes them, but I offer mine to Clay, mostly because I like watching him lick his fingers.

If that’s wrong, I don’t want to be right.

Eventually, though, I start to yawn, and when Clay puts his arm around my waist I lean in and rest my head on his shoulder.

“We should probably head out soon,” Clay murmurs, his hand going to my knee. His skin feels deliciously cool against mine. “You look like you’re about to fall over.”

I start to protest, but what comes out is a yawn.

“Yeah,” Clay drawls. “That’s our cue. Come on.” He pats my butt. “Time to go.”

“Excuse me,” Lexi says, and puts on a weird British accent. “Have you been drinking, good sir? I can’t allow you to drive us home if you’ve partaken of the spirits.”

“What did she just say?” Seth murmurs.

“No drinking,” Clay promises. “I left that to Nat. I’m the designated driver, and now I’m going to take my girl back to our room.”

“Oh goody, can I come along?” Lexi deadpans. “I don’t feel like a third wheel at all.”