Chapter Seven
Bella choked down another mouthful of ketchup with a side of Nana’s cottage pie. If anything tasted worse than Nana’s lasagna, it had to be her cottage pie. The oozing gray mess on her plate turned her stomach and she swallowed hard.
Nana had stocked her freezer before she left for Florida because everyone knew Bella couldn’t cook. Apparently she came by that honestly, but right now food was food. She’d woken late, hangover jangling, and felt too bad to make it to the store.
Her phone chimed from the table, telling her a new text message waited.
Nana couldn’t text, so no chance of it being her, but she would bet it was one of her family, checking in to be sure nobody had murdered her since this time yesterday. Not that her family would talk to her right now. The telephone dustup with Nana earlier today pretty much had taken care of that. Still smarting from the internet site, Nana had ripped into her when she’d refused to pop over to the family house to pick up the store’s Christmas decorations. Bella had her own ideas for Christmas in the store this year, and Nana’s throwback plastic reindeer and foldout paper bells did not form part of it.
Bella dragged the phone closer. It could be Liz with another great idea for tonight. God help her. She still hadn’t recovered from last night, but she did want to dig a bit about Noel.
The display read My Adam. Huh? A very flattering five texts, all of which she had missed because of her need for an afternoon nap.
The latest one read: “When can I see you again?”
The other four were variations on the same theme.
She needed to fill in the blanks around last night. In the meantime, Adam needed a reply. Five texts earned him that much. What would a smart girl say, one in control of her destiny?
Let me check my schedule. She hit Send and then immediately regretted it. What if he took that as a brush-off? Or she came across as a total bitch?
Her phone vibrated in her hand. I’ll be waiting.
She got the sweet flutters in her belly. He’d be waiting to find out when she could fit him into her schedule.
A light tapping on her kitchen door dragged her scratchy eyeballs away from the phone.
Nate Evans lounged on the other side of her kitchen door as if GQ had posed him there.
It took a minute to register that she hadn’t conjured him up in a wave of last night’s alcohol fumes. He was actually leaning against her doorjamb.
She climbed to her feet. Black waves of dizzy hit her and she breathed deep until they cleared.
Nate waved from the other side of the glass and straightened. Damn the man for undulating into standing in a ridiculous ripple of muscled beauty. She opened the door to a blast of frigid air.
“Hey.” He jerked his chin at her.
“Hey.” Okay, she couldn’t stand there and ogle him for the rest of the night. Besides, she had given the ogling a break. “What brings you around?”
“This.” Nate held up a dress in his hand. Her dress. The one she had been wearing last night.
“Where did you find it?” Bella took the dress from him and hugged it to her chest. When she’d woken up that morning and found it gone, she’d been gutted.
Smirking, Nate cocked his head. “You don’t remember?”
“Remember what?” Bella pushed open her door.
“Goddamn it, Bella!” Nate’s yell stopped her. “I told you to lock your doors.”
“Pfft.” She flapped her hand at him. “The sheriff in this town is a quick draw.”
“Don’t make light of this.” He tracked her across her small kitchen. “Not locking your door is asking for trouble.”
“I know.” Her day caught up with her and she didn’t care to argue. “I forgot. I’ll make a point to remember.”
“Good.” He shrugged out of his coat, pulled out a chair, and sat.
Bella blinked at him.
He rested his elbows on the table as if he had every intention of staying a while. Dressed in worn jeans and a tight T-shirt, he looked to be off-duty. Biceps bulged out of his sleeves and took her thought processes with them.
“Can I get you anything?” Bella laid her dress over a chairback.
“A beer would be great,” he said.
Bella turned and opened her fridge. She took a moment to stare at the contents. What the hell was Nate Evans doing in her kitchen? Again.
“What is this?” He pushed her plate of half-eaten, ketchup-drenched cottage pie across the table.
“Dinner.”
“That’s just horrible.”
Bella shrugged. “It beats cooking for myself.”
He shuddered. “I should cook for you sometime.”
* * *
Nate had no idea why that had come out of his mouth. Even more pertinent, what the hell was he doing in her kitchen? Staring at her ass, that’s what. The same ass he hadn’t gotten out of his head all day. Her ass even had him jacking off in the shower that morning.
Some things you couldn’t unsee, and it turned out Bella’s ass was one of those things. Even now, neatly covered in jeans, he could see it.
What color were her panties today? She struck him as a matching bra and panties type of girl.
She turned with his beer. Her breasts jiggled a little beneath her silky shirt. They were proving hard to forget as well. So, like the dog he was, here he sat waiting to catch another glimpse of that Bella. Why? No clue; he was running on pure instinct.
“So last night?” He took a pull of his beer. “You don’t remember?”
She collapsed into a chair opposite him “I take it there’s a story to why you have my dress.”
“Nah.” He shrugged. The idea of teasing her had lost its appeal and she looked tired. Dark shadows stained the skin beneath her eyes. She also looked sad. “You okay?”
“Not really.” Her long, slim throat worked as she swallowed. “I woke up with a hangover, and that was the high point of my day.”
“Wanna talk about it?” Did that come out of his mouth? Mr. Detached and Cool?
“It’s Nana.” She grimaced. “I made her really mad today.”
Not too hard to do, Old Lady Erikson was hell on wheels. “What happened?”
She blinked her big blues at him. “You don’t really want to hear this.”
“No, I do,” he said. Bella looking sad was like a kick in the balls. Ghost Falls’s sweetheart should never get that droopy turn to her mouth. “Tell me.”
“Christmas decorations.” She winced and got up and went back to the fridge.
Nate waited.
“We had a fight about the Christmas decorations for the store.”
“And you lost?” He waved away her offer of another beer.
“Nope.” She collapsed into her chair and propped her chin on her palm. “I won. And that’s the problem.”
She looked like her dog had died. “If you won, why the face?”
“I never win,” she said. Then she grimaced. “Nobody ever wins an argument with Nana. It’s like family folklore or something.”
Now that he could believe. Old Lady Erikson was tougher than boot leather and as fast as the speed of light to let rip with her opinions. “Ah.” He nodded. “My mother does the same thing. Except she cries.”
“Well, I made Nana cry today.”
Nate tried to picture it and failed. Instead he got a visual of Old Lady Erikson storming into the homecoming dance and giving Bella’s date hell. He couldn’t remember who Bella had taken to senior year homecoming. Bella had left the dance with her chin up and her eyes glittering with unshed tears. “She cried? About Christmas decorations?”
“It’s more complicated than that.” Bella picked at the label on his empty beer bottle. “It’s also about Gina.”
“Gina?” Nate tried to place the name.
Bella grimaced. “My sister. My twin, actually. She died.”
Now he remembered. Bella’s mom had given birth to twins, one of whom hadn’t made it. He gentled his tone. “What about her?”
“They miss her.” She peeled the beer label in one go. “I always feel like I need to make up for her not being around.” Before he could tell her how wrong that was, she shrugged and said, “The fight with Nana has been building for a while, and today it exploded.”
He made a noncommittal noise because already he’d allowed himself to get more involved than he should.
“It’s about me taking control at the store.” Bella shrugged. “Nana doesn’t want to let go and I have plans for the store.”
“But it’s your store, isn’t it?”
“Yup.” Bella tore the loose label into bits. “I own it fair and square, but she always thinks of it as her business. She built it, you know?”
“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean she can keep hold of it.”
“I know.” Bella sighed, and it ripped a tiny strip off him. “But she doesn’t see it that way. Neither do my mom and dad.”
“Bella.” He gripped her fingers across the table. “The store is yours. You have to do what you think is right with it.”
“Yes, but Nana built it from nothing. That store raised all of us. After Dad lost his job, Nana and the store kept food on the table. She didn’t have to sell it to me.”
“It’s yours, babe.”
She blinked at him, long and slow, like one of those Disney princesses. “Okay.”
And suddenly he wanted to grab her up and hug her until the sadness disappeared from her eyes. He got to his feet, sending the chair scraping across the kitchen. “I gotta go.”
“Okay.” She stood with him. “You never did tell me how you ended up with my dress.”
“Another day.” He had to get out of there before he gave in and did something stupid. “Actually, I lied, it was outside.”
“But—”
“See you around.” He almost ran for the door. One more look at that cute frown on her face and he would blow this.
He slammed the door behind him, stopped, and waited. “Lock the door!”