When she was steady enough, she walked to the door and asked unnecessarily, “Who is it?”
“It’s me, Amanda.” It was Nathan’s voice, low and commanding. “Open up.”
Wow. Skitters of expectation jolted through her. Amazing that just his voice could do that to her. After all these years, he could still stir her up without even trying.
She put one hand flat against the door and she could have sworn that she actually felt heat sliding through the wood. She took a breath, smoothed out her voice and tried to do the same for her racing heart. It didn’t work.
“What do you want, Nathan?” she asked, leaning her forehead against the door panel.
“What I want is to not be standing out here talking through a door where anyone in Royal can see me.”
Not that there were a lot of people out there at night. But all it would take was one busybody happening to glance up and word would fly all over town. Nathan was at Amanda’s doorstep last night!
Okay, she thought, straightening, good motivation for opening the door. So she did.
Under the porch light, his brown hair looked lighter, his shoulders looked broader and his eyes…too shadowed to read. But then, she thought, it wasn’t difficult to guess what he was thinking, feeling. His stance was stiff, his jaw tight. He looked as though he’d rather be anywhere but there.
Well, fine. She hadn’t invited him, had she? “What is it, Nathan?”
He scowled at her and stepped inside.
“Please,” she said, sarcasm dripping as she closed the door against the hot, humid air, “come in.”
“We have to talk,” he said, striding across the room before turning to face her. “And damned if I’m going to do it in the diner with everyone in town listening in.”
Her fingers tightened on her wineglass. “Then maybe you shouldn’t have come into the diner this morning.”
“Maybe,” he muttered and stuffed both hands into the pockets of his jeans. “But I needed some decent coffee.”
She hadn’t expected that. But he looked so disgusted, so…frustrated, Amanda laughed. His head snapped up, his gaze boring into hers.
“I’m sorry,” she said, shaking her head as another laugh bubbled out. “But really? Coffee is what finally brought you in?”
“I’ve been getting mine at the gas station.”
“Poor guy,” she said, and he frowned at the humor in her voice.
“You can laugh. But I don’t think Charlie’s so much as rinsed out that coffeepot of his in twenty years.” He grimaced at the thought and made Amanda smile again.
Shaking his head, he nodded at the wine in her hand. “You have any more of that?”
“I do. Also have beer, if you’d rather.”
“Yeah, that’d be good.” Some of the tension left his shoulders and one corner of his mouth tilted up into what might have been a half smile if it hadn’t disappeared so fast.
She walked to the kitchen, opened the fridge and pulled out a beer. Amanda paused for a second to get her bearings. The moment she’d been dreading for years was finally here. Nathan and her were together again. Alone. And there was just no telling what might happen next. But whatever it was, she thought, at least it would be something. Better than the vacuum they’d been in for the last few years. Better than the rigid silence that had stretched between them since she came back to Royal.
With that thought in mind, she walked to the living room, handed him the cold bottle, then took a seat on the couch. Mainly because her knees felt a little wobbly.
Looking up at him, she watched as he opened the beer and took a drink. He looked so good it was irritating. His skin was tanned and there was a slightly paler line across the top of his forehead where his hat usually rested. His brown eyes were watchful as he glanced around the apartment, no doubt taking in everything in that all-encompassing sweep. She wondered if he was remembering all the nights they’d been together, here in this room. Could he still hear the whispered words between them? Probably not, she thought. Nathan wouldn’t want to be reminded of a past that had no bearing on his life anymore.
She studied him as he studied the apartment. He wore scuffed brown boots, blue jeans and a short-sleeved, dark green T-shirt with Battlelands Ranch emblazoned on the shirt pocket. He stood stiff and straight as if awaiting a military inspection.
He was off-duty and yet everything about him screamed police. Nathan was just that kind of man. Devoted to duty, he preferred order to chaos, rules to confusion. He would take a road trip and stay on the highway, where Amanda would prefer the back roads, stopping at everything interesting along the way. No wonder they had clashed.
And even knowing all of that, she still felt the rush of attraction that she couldn’t deny. She wanted to be immune to him and, clearly, she wasn’t.
But this was exactly why she needed to be here. Because until she was immune to Nathan Battle, she’d never be able to move on. Instead, she’d go on being haunted by memories, by thoughts of what might have been.
He took another drink of his beer and looked down at the bottle in his hand. “I was sorry about your dad.”
She blinked against the sudden sting of tears. The one thing she hadn’t expected from Nathan was kindness. It was…disarming. “Thanks. I miss him.”
“Yeah, he was a good man.”
“He was.” Safe ground. Talk about their families. Don’t mention the tension coiled so tightly between them.
“Why did you come back?”
And there was the Nathan she knew best. So much for the pleasantries—it was on to Round One. “Excuse me?”
“Well, hell, Amanda.” He frowned down at her and looked a little surprised that she didn’t seem affected by his displeasure. “You were gone for years. Why come back at all?”
“Are you in charge of Royal’s borders now, Sheriff?” she asked. “Do people have to check in with you before they move in?”
“I didn’t say that.”
She pushed to her feet. Even though she stood five foot ten, she was forced to tip her head back to meet his gaze, but she did it. “Royal’s my home as much as it is yours, Nathan Battle.”
“Couldn’t tell from how you acted,” he said, completely ignoring the hard glare she fired at him.
“I seem to recall you living in Houston for quite a while. Were you interrogated when you moved back home?”
“I’m not interrogating you, Amanda,” he countered. “I’m just asking a damn question.”
“That you already know the answer to,” she shot back. “Pam needed help with the diner. I came home. That’s the story. None of this concerns you, Nathan. This is my business.”
“Damn straight it is, but now that you’re back, it’s my business, too.” He stood as still and cold as a statue.
“How do you figure?”
“I’m the sheriff here. This is where I live. For you to come back now and start stirring things—”
“What am I stirring, Nathan?” she interrupted, and saw with a jolt of glee that he still hated being cut off. It infuriated her to remember that in the old days. She’d have shut her mouth so he could keep talking. Well, that time was gone. “I’m working at my family’s