by Barb Han
“I need a favor.” The truth was that Nate had kept Bill working for several winters. Bill had asked a dozen times to repay Nate in some way. Nate couldn’t think of a better repayment than using the favor to help someone else. Of course, Nate would pay for the window. He wouldn’t stick Bill with that price tag. Since the whole house needed energy-efficient windows, he’d pay to have that done, too. It was the least he could do for the struggling little family.
Chelsea seemed like the kind of person who had too much pride to admit she might need a helping hand.
Would she reject it?
Chapter Six
The sheriff had finished taking her statement. The window had been professionally fixed. The night had turned into the next day.
“I can’t thank you enough for your help.” Chelsea meant it, too. Nate Kent had already helped her daughter this morning and now this. It was too much.
“All part of the job,” he said like it was nothing.
It meant a lot to her.
“I’m embarrassed to admit that I fell for a class-A jerk.” Saying it out loud didn’t make her feel any better, either. How many nights had Chelsea lain awake in bed tossing and turning, willing to give her right arm if she could just go to sleep and stop churning over her mistake? Dozens?
She looked over at Nate, expecting a reaction, a smirk, a look of disdain, or for him to look down on her. Instead, she found a sympathetic smile.
“I think we’ve all been there at least once in our lives,” he said.
She gave him a look that said she didn’t believe he’d ever fall into a trap like that.
“What? I’m no different than the next guy.” He put his hand in air in the surrender position.
“Right.” The sound that came out of her mouth was half chortle, half snort.
“What does that mean?” he asked.
Chelsea could tell that she’d insulted him. “I’m sorry. In no way was I trying to offend you. It’s just that you’re gorgeous and smart—” She shot him an apologetic look. “It’s hard to see how you could have any problems.”
She regretted the words as soon as they left her mouth. It was too late to reel them in. He was already on his feet, a storm gathering behind his eyes.
“Your mind is made up. In my experience, it would do no good to try to convince you otherwise.” He walked into the kitchen and set his coffee cup down on the counter.
It had only taken a hot minute for her to make a mess of things.
“Is apologizing enough to stop you from hating me?” She realized just how shallow those words were, especially since he’d been nothing but kind to her. Stress was starting to show through and she didn’t like the person on display. She’d like to blame Travis, but that wasn’t fair. She was in charge of her actions. No one forced her to do or to say anything.
Chelsea was developing feelings for Nate that she didn’t want. She was tired and her mother’s health weighed heavily on her mind.
“I’m an idiot,” she said to Nate’s back as he started toward the door. “You’re helping me and you’ve been nothing but nice to Skylar and my mother. I have no right to make judgments about your life. Especially since I don’t really know anything about your life.”
He didn’t immediately turn around and that was the first clue at how badly she might’ve insulted him.
Pushing through her own walls proved more difficult than she expected. She walked over to him and placed a hand on his arm. “Nate, I’m the jerk here. Please don’t be offended by what I said. It’s not you. It’s me.”
He turned on that note and backed her up a step. “I think I understand what’s going on.”
“You do? Mind cluing me in?” she asked.
“You’re scared.” His hand rested on the counter.
She blinked at him. “Of what?”
“Not of what...of who.” He caught her gaze and held on to it.
“I’m not scared of you, Nate. If that’s what you’re thinking,” she stammered. “You’ve been nothing but helpful.”
His smile was devastating. Good-looking was almost an insult to say about a man as gorgeous as Nate. He had that animal magnetism she’d heard about but rarely seen. His piercing steel eyes and carved-from-granite jawline coupled with thick, curly, dark hair made for one seriously hot package. The man worked out. His body was defined in places she didn’t even realize there could be muscles.
“If not me, then this.” He brought his hand up to her chin and tilted her mouth toward his.
The truth was that she’d thought about kissing him far too often for her own good since she’d met him. It was uncharacteristic for her to have such an immediate and demanding reaction. If she had any sense, she’d push him away and let him walk out the door before things went too far.
But she wanted him to touch her, wanted to feel his lips moving against hers, wanted his hands to roam freely on her body. She tried to convince herself the only reason her body craved his touch was that she hadn’t really been touched in too long.
That annoying voice inside her head called her out. You want Nate.
Nate was handsome and charming—but not in a polished and premeditated manner—and real. That same annoying voice reminded her there was something unavailable about him, too. Was that part of the attraction?
At this point, Chelsea didn’t know or care. Her body hummed with desire for the handsome cowboy. She brought her hands up to his chest. Instead of pushing him away, which would be the smart move, she let her fingertips run along the muscled ridges.
His lips pressed against hers, causing a jolt of electricity to envelop her, pinging through her body and seeking an outlet. When there was none, the vibration hummed, gaining urgency as she gripped his shoulders.
She parted her lips to allow better access and he teased his tongue inside her mouth. Her lips fused with his in a bone-melting kiss. She’d heard about kisses so intense they weakened the knees, but the reality of one was far different, far more intense and pleasurable than anything she’d experienced.
There was so much passion in that one kiss that she melted against his strong, hard body. With her breasts flush against his chest, he released a primal groan. His hands dropped to her waist and he looped them around until they rested on the small of her back.
Her pulse skyrocketed as his large hands splayed across her back.
And this was a runaway train that needed stopping. Yet there was nothing inside Chelsea that wanted to stop kissing Nate. And that was a big problem. Panic gripped her because thinking about the effect of this kiss on her life was the equivalent of a bucket of cold water being poured on her.
She pulled back, forehead to forehead, giving herself enough space to let her ragged breathing stabilize before she stepped away from him.
The sizzle in that kiss had been missing from every kiss in her entire life.
Chelsea was in trouble. She didn’t do curl-her-toes kisses anymore. Although, to be fair, this one had melted her bones more than curled her toes.
And there was nothing premeditated about it.
* * *
NATE STOOD IN the kitchen a second longer than he should have, locked in eye contact with Chelsea. Kissing her had been an impulse. One he should regret.
In the moment, he’d gone all caveman and ignored logic and better judgment. He hadn’t made a mistake like that since he’d reached voting age. Letting his emotions run away with him wasn’t something the adult Nate Kent usually did. That glittery look in Chelsea’s eyes had him like a moth to a flame.
He tried to tell himself that he’d done it to erase Mia from his thoughts. Normally, bouncing back from a relationship wasn’t a problem. It probably had a lot to do with the fact that Nate didn’t do relationships in the first place. Had he let his guard down with Mia?
Ever since losing his parents and his family changin
g, Nate had felt off balance.
Time to correct his mistakes.
“Bill has your number. He’ll call to make arrangements to replace the rest of the windows,” he said to Chelsea.
“I’ll get my checkbook,” Chelsea said, holding up a finger.
“That’s not necessary,” Nate said.
“Oh? How’s that?” The confused crinkle in her forehead was sexy as hell.
Nate forced his gaze away from it.
“It’s covered,” was all he said. He didn’t want to go into detail as to why he felt the need to personally pay for new windows for the drafty old house. It could use more updates that he was fairly certain Chelsea would insist on covering herself.
“How? I haven’t had a chance to set up homeowner’s insurance,” she stated.
“It’s covered. There’s nothing to pay.” He hoped she’d leave it at that. He didn’t know why he’d made the offer, except that when she’d spoken about her ex, he hadn’t liked the look of fear in her eyes and he’d wanted to prove that not all men were jerks. “Have you thought about a security system?”
“Here in Jacobstown?” Again, the brows knitted. “I didn’t think I’d need one.”
“Never hurts to have a little extra security.” He didn’t want to say that she already had her hands full with a four-year-old and an ill mother. Linda had already told him how hard Chelsea was working to get back on her feet.
Nate wanted to offer a helping hand.
“I’ll think about it.” She had a lot on her plate financially, he could read it in her eyes. “I meant to mention this morning that the grand opening for the restaurant will be in six weeks if all goes well. You seem to know a lot of people.”
Nate grunted and smiled at that one.
“I’d appreciate help spreading word about the opening,” she continued.
“Not a problem. Folks in this town will know by morning that there’s a new family in town and they’ll probably know more about your business than you want them to by week’s end.” He couldn’t help but smile. Living in Jacobstown was like that. Folks looked after each other. “Not a whole lot changes around here. They’ll be lining up to experience something new come opening day.”
“That’s a relief.” She blew out a breath.
“I’d best be on my way. Ranch work starts early in the mornings—” he checked the watch on his wrist.
Chelsea gasped. “You have two jobs?”
“Technically, just one, and it’s more way of life than occupation,” he said. He was glad her earlier tension had subsided some, unless he counted the chemistry pinging between them. That had been on overdrive ever since the kiss.
“What do you do on the ranch?” she asked, leaning her slender hip against the kitchen counter.
Lucky counter. It was easy to talk to Chelsea even though Nate wasn’t normally a man of many words.
“Everything,” he attested, which was true. He tagged and recorded calf births, rode fences and cleaned stalls, just like everyone else.
“Surely there’s a primary responsibility. What’s your job title?” she asked.
“Owner.”
Chelsea seemed taken back by the admission. For the life of Nate, he couldn’t figure out why.
“Is there something wrong with me owning a ranch?” He tried to hide the defensiveness in his voice.
“No. Not really,” she said too fast. She’d picked up on his emotion. “It’s just you work as a firefighter—”
“Volunteer,” he corrected. He understood now. “I don’t take a salary for that.”
“Oh.” The look on her face made her seem even more confused now. Like she couldn’t imagine who would run a ranch and volunteer.
“This is a small town and we all have to do our part to keep it running. In fairness, I own the ranch with five siblings and we all work the cattle and the land. I volunteer as a firefighter because it gets me off the ranch and I like the distraction.
“Speaking of which, I’d better grab a few hours of shut-eye before my workday starts,” he finally said.
Chelsea’s face was unreadable. He couldn’t tell if she thought he was crazy or noble. And, for some odd reason, it bothered him more than he wanted to admit.
“I can’t thank you enough for everything you’ve done for us.” There was a finality in her tone. Like the two would never see each other again.
“Not a problem,” he said before leaving.
Inside his truck, he maneuvered around her pickup and out of the drive. On the street, he used the hands-free feature to call Zach.
“What do you think about the McGregor case?” he asked his cousin after perfunctory greetings.
“Wish I knew. I hope it’s not someone from town,” Zach admitted. “Could be her ex. I’m checking motels as we speak to see if he checked into one nearby.”
“Throwing a rock through the window bothers me,” Nate said.
“How so?” Zach asked.
“Her ex didn’t seem to have a problem confronting her head-on earlier. Why chicken out now and break a window in order to scare her?” Nate didn’t believe the rock thrower was the same person.
“That crossed my mind, too,” Zach conceded. “I’m heading over to the Last Bite Diner near the expressway. You want to come talk this through?”
“Yeah, sure. You headed there now?” Nate asked.
“On my way. I need a place to sit down and make a few calls. There won’t be anyone else there at this hour,” Zach stated.
Nate ended the call and headed west toward the diner. He was too wired to sleep anyway and that kiss kept overtaking his thoughts. He didn’t want to remember how sweet Chelsea’s rosy lips felt pressed against his. Or how much better coffee tasted on them. He forced his thoughts onto the road and away from the glittery look in her eyes that had sent him down that path in the first place.
The urge to kiss Chelsea had been a physical ache. Nate didn’t want to get too inside his head about the pull toward her. She was an intelligent and attractive woman. She had a good head on her shoulders and had created a successful business. Under normal circumstances, she was the kind of woman he’d want to get to know better. Nate almost laughed. Okay, that wasn’t entirely true. Under normal circumstances, he’d want a lot of amazing sex with no strings attached. An option that was clearly not possible with Chelsea, considering she had a child and he got the impression the woman didn’t do one-night stands.
Another reason that kiss couldn’t happen again. Nate didn’t have more than one night to offer.
Kissing her had been bad judgment on his part. He wouldn’t go down that road again.
Chapter Seven
Ten minutes later, Nate pulled into a parking spot at the diner. He’d been unsuccessful at not thinking about Chelsea’s situation. Her ex showing up out of the blue troubled Nate. She said the two had been apart four years, starting from literally the day Skylar was born.
It made Nate all kinds of angry that a man would walk out on his own child. To never lay eyes on that child was another gut punch. If Nate had had a kid, he would be there just like his parents had been for him and his siblings.
Zach pulled into the parking spot next to Nate, jarring him from his thoughts. He turned off the ignition and stepped out of his truck. He rounded it and noted there was a car parked at the side of the building. Nate couldn’t help but notice that Zach had seen it, too.
They both seemed to catch on to the fact that the plates were from Louisiana.
They greeted each other before walking into the restaurant.
A lone diner had positioned himself at the breakfast counter. He huddled over his plate, not bothering to look at the men. There was something familiar about him. He was of medium build and height, with light hair from the back. He had the carriage of someone who worked in an office all day rather than outside.<
br />
“Who is that?” Zach asked with an arched brow as he took a seat in the corner booth.
Liesel came over with a fresh carafe of coffee and set it on the table. “Howdy, boys. I know why you’re awake—” she motioned toward Zach “—but what’s got you up in the middle of the night, cowboy?”
The place was small and had its name on top of the roof in big red lights. Inside, there was a row of booths that stretched down the middle of the room, a counter on the right that ran the length of the place and a few tables to the left.
Liesel had worked at the diner since there’d been a diner, so maybe fifteen years. She kept tabs on most goings-on in Jacobstown given that people came through at all hours of the night. Jacobstown didn’t have bartenders, it had Liesel. She poured their coffees.
“Thank you,” Nate said as he picked up his cup. He took a sip and immediately thought about how much better coffee tasted when he tasted it on Chelsea.
“Why does he seem familiar?” Zach asked Liesel.
“Who? Him?” She glanced at the counter seater, like there was another option.
“Yes. I know him from somewhere,” Zach added.
“That’s the Barstock widow’s boy, Reggie,” she muttered. “He hasn’t been around here in ages. He never did come visit his momma even when she died. Said he ain’t staying, either.”
“Oh, yeah?” Zach had the look on his face that Nate recognized.
His cousin stood, his gaze locked onto the lone diner. “I apologize in advance for leaving you high and dry, Nate. You might be eating alone tonight.”
“No problem here. I can always order to go and bring it to your office,” Nate offered.
“BLT’s the best here. Would you mind ordering me one with the sweet potato fries?” Zach said to Nate even though Liesel was standing right next to them.
“I’ll make it two and be there to eat with you in fifteen minutes,” Nate said. “But right now I plan to make sure this guy doesn’t try any funny business with you.”
There was something guilty-looking about the man at the breakfast counter that rubbed Nate the wrong way.
