The Love You Hate: A Charge Man Novel (The Charge Men Series Book 1)

by Rachel Robinson

  “No, with me,” I add, caustically.

  She groans. “With myself actually. Not everything is about you, Nate.”

  No one said it was, but now I know this is definitely personal. “Truce,” I say, drying my hands on a towel, careful with my bad arm.

  “What are you frustrated about then?” Ryan asks. “How is it possible to be frustrated with yourself? Personally, I love myself too much to ever be angry with myself.” He’s trying and failing at brightening the mood.

  “I hold myself to high standards and I find myself wavering in ways I never dreamed before.” Presley cringes even though she thinks no one is watching. She’s having some real internal bullshit happening today. “I’m not wholly frustrated with myself; I’m frustrated with some of my thoughts.”

  “Well, that sounds complicated.”

  “More like the opposite. Simple. I’m going to have to settle for something or someone simpler if I’m ever going to get laid again.”

  My eyes pop wide open, and Ryan chokes on air as his cheeks flush. “Sorry I asked,” Ryan hisses.

  “Don’t be. Junkyard Jake, here I come.”

  Something akin to battery acid rises in the back of my throat.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Presley

  Sexually frustrated. That’s what it is. I didn’t add that word, but now they know. Sleep was out of reach last night because I couldn’t stop thinking about Nate. I don’t think about men to waste my precious brain cells. I think it’s because he has the air of a man who is untouchable and unavailable. He’s not aloof per se, but he has that indefinable quality, and the fact I picked up on it in half a day speaks volumes. His face, his attitude, and yeah, the fact he jumped in front of dogs for me, floated through my mind, cloying all my typical good sense.

  I’m used to wealthy men who would never deign to get their loafers dirty. Bravery isn’t a word in their personal dictionaries, nor is it something they witness on a regular basis unless it’s a Hollywood premiere of the newest action blockbuster. No, Nate is not that kind of man. He’s good at everything, or seems to be, which makes my libido wonder if he really is as well rounded as he appears. Nate is mysterious, and not in a way that sends up my hackles, in a way that only makes me want to know him more. Again, I hate that.

  Nate finished washing dishes and Ryan is teaching him how to use one of the old industrial stoves. There’s a crank, and a pilot light that works intermittently, and a dance that must be performed at the perfect cadence for it to fire up. I have a perfect view of his wide back and narrow hips. The bell chimes as someone enters, and Nate moves with a tenacious prowl to the counter. It’s jarring, it reminds me of a damn action movie again. Why is he so alert? His military background, duh, Presley. I’m reading into his every move in an attempt to figure him out. It won’t work, I know. He’s going to have to open up to me. That will have to be for another day, after my sexual frustrations have subsided. I bet after one time in the sack with Jake, I’ll be over my low-key crush on Nate. It has to happen. Straight after work I’ll head over there again.

  The bread is all packaged and I have another batch of cupcakes started. Nate takes an order and Ryan shows him how to use the register as I brew a pot of coffee. Leaning against the counter, I watch the interaction, trying to discern something new, anything, that would tell me what kind of person he is. Ryan nods his approval as Nate hands over a bagel and all of the fixings, and a to-go cup for tea. “Well, aren’t you just an exemplary employee?” I bark. I didn’t mean for it to come out so harsh, but that’s how everything comes out when I get in this mood. A long run didn’t even touch the nerves vibrating inside my body.

  “He did great,” Ryan says, lifting one brow. “Would you rather take the counter during rush hour? I could have Nate do something else.” He’s grasping at straws. Nothing is going to fix my mood. Especially being in the same room as the object of my vagina’s desire.

  I exhale noisily. “No. That’s fine, let him meet the regulars so he can get to know their orders. Ryan, you don’t have to be here, you know? Didn’t you want to go rock climbing? I know the ropes.” Plus, if one less person is a witness to my bad behavior than I feel a little better. “If you wanted to, that is.”

  “As alluring as that is, my aunt would have a cow if I left the shop on his first day. Plus,” Ryan says, glancing between us. “I’m basically playing buffer today.”

  Nate narrows his eyes at me, and my god if he isn’t smirking. He knows what he’s doing to me. He’s a playboy. He’s playing the long game. He lied in a roundabout way about having a girlfriend. It makes sense. “There’s no need for a buffer. I’ll be on my best behavior. I know how everything works. Your aunt trusts me.”

  Just then, a stream of customers barrel in the door. The orders are intricate and it’s a good thing there are three of us, or we’d be swamped. The regulars seem to be tripping over Nate. He’s offering them new items and these people are actually trusting him and ordering them! He’s using this fake, pleasant voice, I have yet to hear, and every time Nate says thank you, I cringe. I’m wrapping up a bacon egg and cheese sandwich for the last customer in the bakery when he excuses himself to use the restroom.

  “Here you go, sir,” I say, handing the sandwich over the glass. “Enjoy. Have a great day.” I’m trying on some of the fake niceness, and what do you know, he drops a tip in the jar next to the register. I eye it warily, cocking my head.

  “He’s a nice guy, Presley.”

  I just blink, and nod once.

  Ryan clears his throat. “You’re okay with Nate working here, right? I’m having a hard time figuring out what exactly you’d like. You say simple and Jake, but you’ve been staring at Nate all morning like you want to butter his biscuit.”

  “Is that supposed to be a joke?”

  Ryan shakes his head. “I’m asking you one more time. You’re okay with him working here, right?”

  This is when I should send Nate away, while I have this power. My curiosity gets the better of me. “Nah. He’s new to Gold Hawke too. He needs this job.”

  “At the expense of your jokes?” Ryan asks.

  Hanging my head, I groan. “Yes. You hate the jokes too. Isn’t this a win win for you?”

  “You’re right about one thing. My aunt does like you and trusts you, and you were here first. He’s the new guy, regardless if him being around means your corny level hovers somewhere around normal, I’m on your side.”

  “I appreciate that,” I say, feeling a lump lodge in my throat. I’ve been a bitch to Ryan and he really has been my only friend up until now. “Thanks. I promise, I’m okay. Jake will take care of things tonight, and I’ll be back to my chipper self tomorrow. Sans jokes, still though.”

  Ryan wrinkles his nose. “Jake though? Seriously?”

  “Do you have a better idea?” I sling back, pouring myself a cup of coffee and dumping some sugar in. “The way I see it, is that he’s the best of the worst.”

  “That’s offensive, Presley. Also, you shouldn’t shit where you eat. When it doesn’t work out you have to see the man constantly. Why don’t you go down the highway? Use that app people use to find people their age to hook up with?” Because I can’t leave Gold Hawke, I think. Because I’m trapped here without options. I’m going to suffocate.

  “That’s not convenient. I live here.”

  Nate appears from nowhere, though he was in the restroom, so I guess he crept so quietly we didn’t hear him come back. “What’s not convenient?” Nate asks, grabbing the coffee pot from behind me, and grabs himself a cup. The heat from his body wafts against my waist, and I shudder.

  Twisting, I move myself away from him in what I hope looks like a casual movement. “Dating inside the Gold Hawke pool as opposed to going down the road to find a man.”

  “You’re really intent on finding a man?” Nate’s gaze looks mirthful. “And Jake? For real?” Another customer arrives and Ryan scurries to help them.
/>   Nate glares daggers at me.

  “I’m lonely. What would you have me do? What will you do when you’re lonely?”

  His face shutters, and I can tell this is a subject he’s highly uncomfortable with.

  “Get more friends,” he replies, tone brisk. “Get a hobby? Start a redo bucket list?” Nate’s gaze flicks to the door and back to me. “Not settle for the first simpleton who shows interest. That’s for sure.”

  “Wow. Sort of aggressive.”

  Nate frowns. “No, a realist. You know things won’t work out, and yet you’d entangle yourself anyway.”

  “I don’t know they won’t work out.”

  “Excuse me. I need to get back to work.” And I thought my attitude was bad. Nate just iced me out with a single sentence. The giddy woman inside rears her head. Is Nate jealous? that’s what we want! A competition to get in my pants. Her mood sours seconds later when I remind the giddy woman that she needs to be a realist, too. Entangle myself. How dare he insinuate I don’t control who and what I allow in my life. You don’t, I remind myself. My life was decided for me when my dad went to prison. It’s his fault. I’ll just go ahead and blame him for not being able to control who I entangle myself with. Reverting back to anger in my grief process isn’t healthy, and having a tussle with Jake isn’t either.

  Nate ignores me for the rest of the morning. We only speak when we’re communicating an order or when Ryan asks us to do something. While we both know what we’re doing, it’s easy to feel like two children in school with Ryan trying to keep us from destroying his classroom. I’m hanging up my apron as my shift ends with heavy arms. I’m tired and I need a nap. Maybe the long run did work. Instead of being horny, I’m exhausted.

  “Any plans?” Nate says, following me out into a beautiful day.

  I scoff. “Oh, now you’ll talk to me.”

  “We were at work. Surely you know how to be professional and just… work?” he replies. Ryan’s aunt works in the afternoons when it’s slow. That’s when she does the books and orders supplies.

  “There’s a difference between being professional and also being courteous. You weren’t the latter.”

  “You seemed mad at me.”

  I turn to meet his eyes. “I told you already it had nothing to do with you. I was frustrated. Now I’m just tired though. I’m going home to take a nap.”

  Nate looks disappointed which confuses me and stirs to life the horny. Groaning, I turn and walk toward the empty dirt lot where I parked my Jeep. Nate follows—keeping a distance. My heart hammers, not because I’m scared, because I’m about to tell him exactly what’s on my mind. My breaths come quicker.

  When I reach the driver’s side door, I spin on my heel. I open my mouth, but he beats me to words. “I think Jake is a bad idea.” He runs his hands through his hair, awkwardly. Dare I say he looks nervous even.

  “I’m not sure I got the memo that it was any of your business.”

  “It’s not.”

  I smile wide. “If he’s a bad idea, are you coming home with me today?”

  Nate visibly cringes away from me. “No. What are you talking about? I was going to help you set up a dating profile so you could find a guy in another town.” His neck works as he swallows. “That’s a better idea.”

  “I’m not interested in men in other towns.” Mostly because I can’t leave here. Ever.

  Nate shrugs. “Plus, I heard he carries STDs like roses in a basket.”

  I widen my eyes in shock. Libido crash. “Ew, gross! Where did you hear that? Why am I not surprised the whole town knows that? This place is a cesspool where everyone mixes shit!”

  Nate looks over his shoulder. “I didn’t want to have to tell you. Ryan told me when you went to the restroom earlier. It’s common knowledge, so not too much of the Gold Hawke gossip ring anymore. I guess by his senior year in high school he’d hooked up with the majority of the females in the school.”

  “Maybe the first part isn’t gossip but the second part sure as hell is. How can that be confirmed?”

  He lifts and lowers one shoulder. “Small town. Folks talk. Didn’t think you were the kind of woman who would want to contend with an STD for a one-night stand.”

  I hold up one finger. “You’re doing a lot of assuming, Nate. One, how do you know I only want a one-night stand? Two, are you seriously assuming I’d bang Junkyard Jake without a rubber? Who do you take me for? I thought we were friends.”

  My unfiltered words give him pause. I smile. “You’re right about one thing. An STD isn’t something I want and I guess even if there’s a chance he might not be clean, I need to heed the warning of Gold Hawke gossip. Where does that leave me?”

  Nate’s gaze darts away, sweeping the parking lot. “Men that aren’t here, I suppose.” His gaze lands back on mine after sweeping the area all around us.

  I narrow my eyes. “What are you always looking at? Or for?”

  Nate licks his lips. “I like the views.” That’s a dumb explanation for his demeanor. The man is constantly on guard. Again, I’ll blame it on the military background. I guess. “Not looking at anything,” he adds when he reads my face as suspicious.

  “What about you?” I deadpan. “You aren’t from here. Can we have a one-night stand without ruining our blossoming friendship?”

  He goes from being on guard to looking at me incredulously. “Presley, are you serious?” His lips twitch and I feel my face getting red, the embarrassment coursing hot through my veins. “Are you propositioning me right now?”

  “No. Of course not.” I get into my Jeep, but he follows, opening the door and getting into the passenger seat. “Why are you in my car?”

  “If you give me a ride to Jake’s, I’ll never mention what you just asked of me.” He covers a cough that I think was actually a chuckle. The bastard!

  “You are such an asshole.” Shaking my head, I pull out of the dusty lot, and turn on the main road. “That’s not what I meant,” I explain, trying to rescue myself knowing there’s no way to get out of this one. I let Ratchet Ryleigh, my drunk alter ego, out of her cage. She’d been shaking the bars for too long.

  “You call me an asshole, but you’re the one asking for a one-night stand. Isn’t that prime asshole behavior? You’re assuming I’m the kind of guy who hits and quits, and you know I have a woman in my life even as distant as we are from each other at the moment. I’m not that kind of asshole. I’m offended. You’re not allowed to be.” I hate that he’s perfectly right, that the man has figured out how to twist this into some attack.

  “I’m sorry for calling you an asshole. Most men in my life up until this point wouldn’t think twice about a one-night stand. I slept with my best guy friend on the regular and we stayed best friends. It was no big deal. I was merely suggesting that we take out our annoyance on each other because we seem to be the odd ones out in Gold Hawke. Something to… pass the time.” My cheeks flame as I talk myself in circles, and incriminate myself even more. “Not that sex is that insignificant all the time,” I say, tripping over my words, “just that it can be insignificant if you define it as such ahead of time.”

  One glance at Nate, and I know I need to shut my trap. He’s staring at me with wide disbelieving eyes, thick lips open. “You really don’t know when to stop, do you?”

  “Stopping with regards to anything hasn’t ever really been in my wheelhouse.” That’s why I ended up here. The apple doesn’t fall too far from the tree.

  I turn my eyes back to the road and pull into one of the spaces at Jake’s. Noises of scraping metal and dog’s barking reach us from inside the can. “That’s actually a really useful thing to know about you if we’re going to be friends.” Nate pauses. “Like platonic friends, not the kind of friends you had in high school.” I groan and lean my forehead on the steering wheel. “I’m going to throw this out here and let you know that whoever that poor best friend guy was, did not want to only be your best friend.”


  I scowl, but keep my head down. “Of course, he did. We made a pact. It was friendship ninety percent of the time and then sex whenever the mood came about. He didn’t want anything more from me.”

  Nate chuckles. “Did he ever say anything after you fucked?”

  “Well, that’s personal,” I bite back.

  Nate nods, knowingly. “Exactly. If you were really just friends, sex wouldn’t be personal. It would be a comfortable topic to speak about to anyone. Sex is never just sex, Presley.”

  There’s no trace of a smile on his face to signal that he’s joking. “Should I call him up and ask him?” I’m joking, but if I could prove Nate wrong, I think I would suffer through that phone conversation. “I’m right,” I say, turning off the car. “You’re wrong. It can be just sex.” I have the internal scars to prove it.

  “Thanks for the ride,” Nate says, ignoring my argument. I don’t relish arguments, but I like them to be solved neatly so I can store them on a shelf for a day when I might need to pull them out once more.

  “What are you doing tonight?” I ask the question in order to change the subject to something safer. I can prove my point about sex another day. “Anything fun?”

  “I’m not sure how to answer that,” Nate replies, leaning in from the open passenger-side door to look at me. “Are you asking because you want to join in or are you asking because you’re a heat-seeking missile and think I’ll fuck you if you corner me with bad jokes and a hoity-toity attitude?”

  “Oh, you really are an asshole, I rescind my apology.”

  His grin is wide, and my damn stomach flips and flops the same time my core clenches with need. He’s right. Again. “There’s a concert down at the rock quarry. Some band from up in Aspen. I was going to take a drive over because I haven’t seen the quarry yet. I’ve heard it’s pretty cool.”

  If I hadn’t been so self-involved with myself and my desires all morning, I would have remembered the concert. When I learned about it a few weeks ago I assumed I wouldn’t go because I’d be by myself. “Oh, I heard the same.”