As the moment ticked by, she waved a hand in a dismissive gesture. “Don’t worry about it,” she said. “It’s been a really long day, and I’m in kind of a weird mood. You’d probably be better served to ignore me.” She tossed him what he assumed was supposed to be a blithe smile before pushing away from the railing.
“Wait a minute.” Motivated to stop her before she walked away he touched her arm, halting her forward movement. His male nature enjoyed the excuse to touch her, and taking further advantage he stepped closer. He didn’t know what was going on, but he’d never seen her like this, and he didn’t like it. “Maybe you should just tell me what this is about.”
His nearness must have triggered a self-defense mechanism as her expression again grew guarded, but finally her eyes lifted. The scar on her chin she’d gotten from falling out of a tree when she was eight was barely visible in the dim lighting. “Are you aware that for the next few weeks you and I are going to be staying in the same house?”
He hesitated, their gazes mingling. Being so close to her after nearly a year apart felt a bit strange especially given how their relationship ended. No arguments. No tearful goodbyes. He woke up one morning and she was gone. He often told himself they were better off this way, but sometimes he wondered.
Pushing aside past memories, he asked, “How can that be? I’m staying with Patrick until after the wedding.”
“I know.” She leaned against the railing, the cut of her summery green sundress offering Chase a tantalizing view of her cleavage. “Patrick and Erica are buying a new house, and I’m buying Patrick’s. Before I knew he’d invited you to stay, I moved in.”
Erica Sullivan, Patrick’s fiancée, was also a good friend of Natalie’s. Patrick and Erica had hired Natalie to be their wedding planner. Patrick had invited Chase to stay until after the wedding given Chase was the Best Man, and Patrick and Chase hadn’t spent much time together since Chase moved to New York eight years ago. Chase agreed as spending extended amounts of time with his family generally wasn’t the best way to go about maintaining his sanity. Last year Chase’s father had been involved in a near-fatal car crash and between traveling back and forth to New York and Chase’s bickering family, Chase didn’t know how he would have coped if it hadn’t been for Natalie.
“So you’re living here?” He inclined his head in the direction of the house and Natalie nodded, moonlight glittering off her dark hair.
Now that could be a problem. He and Natalie under the same roof as her brother, combined with the seductive memories of how good they’d always been together, did not spell happy conclusion.
Apparently having interpreted his silence, she said with a rueful smile, “I see you’ve grasped the problem.”
Oh, he grasped the problem all right.
Trying out his voice of reason, he said, “So we have two choices, either one of us can stay elsewhere, or we can pretend nothing happened.”
“I would say those are our options,” she said. “Although if one of us leaves, Patrick is going to want to know why.”
He exhaled a tense breath. “Oh, boy.”
“Yeah, I’d say that about covers it.”
Silence stretched as their gazes continued to mingle. Their positions were reminiscent of days past, back when he was free to touch her, to kiss her, to make love to her. He didn’t want to remember those days but he did. And each day the memories tugged at him a bit more.
“I probably shouldn’t say this, but I didn’t want things to end.” Subtle regret tinged his voice as he revealed that piece of information, but what the hell, it was the truth.
“Neither did I,” she said, her admission delivered with the same hint of regret he heard in his own tone.
Sexual awareness pulled at him. Damn, he hadn’t wanted to go down this road with her again. Her parents made no bones about the fact they thought he was bad news, an opinion that had been reinforced by his divorce over two years ago. Not to mention Patrick had made it clear he didn’t want Chase getting involved with Natalie. The two men may have been friends since the third grade, but the Malone men didn’t have the best reputation with women, and Patrick didn’t want his sister getting mixed up with the Malone family drama.
But sex with Natalie was like alcohol to an alcoholic or chocolate cake to an obese dieter. No matter how many times he told himself he shouldn’t touch her, the chemistry between them combined with blissful memories of hot, lusty sex grabbed him and wouldn’t let go. And a year later the memories were still there.
Without conscious thought he stepped closer, his arm sliding around her waist. Natalie’s greenish-blue eyes remained locked with his, her elbows on the dock railing.
All he wanted was a kiss. One, sweet, simple kiss. He needed to know if he imagined the potent chemistry between them, because the more he thought about it the more he was convinced he must have. Sex just wasn’t that amazing. Sex was sex. It can be fulfilling both emotionally and physically, but sex never made him feel like his next breath depended on being inside her.
Sex just wasn’t that good.
Ignoring his conscience he moved in for a taste. Once, twice, three times their mouths connected. Then by degree his kiss lingered. With the exception of his arm at her waist only their mouths touched. The lack of full body contact was both erotic and frustrating. He wanted her flat against him; her body aligned with his, her hands tangled in his hair, but if he took things that far there would be no turning back.
And he couldn’t afford to forget about her brother, who also happened to be Chase’s best friend, a friend that had asked Chase to keep his distance from his sister. Resisting the intoxicating allure of tasting more of her sweet kiss, he reluctantly withdrew.
Resting his forehead against hers, he said, “I think you’re right. We do have a problem.”
“Chase,” she said, her eyes speaking of the same desire, a desire that had once consumed them both without regard for the consequences. “We can’t do this again.”
“I know.” Boy, did he ever know. They were lucky someone hadn’t caught on before now.
She placed a hand against his chest, the warmth of her touch detectable through the thin fabric of his cotton shirt and, taking the hint, he backed off.
“I should be heading back to the party,” she said, although he suspected her statement was a cop-out to avoid facing what had happened between them. Not that he had any right to judge.
He nodded. “That’s probably not a bad idea.”
Natalie headed up the path, his gaze trailing after her, his emotions twisted worse than a corkscrew. He hadn’t wanted to go down this road with her again, but his biggest problem was how did he stop?
*****
“Beautiful wedding, Natalie.”
Natalie tossed Wendy Taylor a brittle smile, although she didn’t stop to chat. Having spent the last four hours on her feet in three-inch heels, and with her mother breathing down her neck about every detail of the wedding, Natalie had only one thing on her mind: getting to the bar.
Last year Doris Campbell had retired from the event planning business, and turned the reins over to Natalie. Well, that was the official story anyway. Doris still poked her nose into the more notable events, and she had a tendency to make Natalie feel as if she wasn’t capable of a competent decision.
But always the cool collected professional, Natalie smiled, did her job, then tossed back a few shots at the bar when no one was looking. After all, imbibing alcohol was preferable to murder. And it was more socially acceptable, too.
“I see your mother is as omnipresent as ever,” Wayne Holland commented