The Story of Us: Sweetbriar Cove: Book 11

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The Story of Us: Sweetbriar Cove: Book 11 Page 8

by Melody Grace


  “Wow.” Natalie laughed. “I see a lot of themed candy in my future.”

  “Oh my God, yes,” Alice agreed. “Can you make chocolates shaped like lobster?”

  “If anyone can, it’s Natalie.” Luke and Jackson joined them. Luke flashed Natalie a grin. “You know she’s like a mad scientist in that kitchen of hers.”

  She smiled back at him shyly. “I don’t know . . . you’d need to make the shell pretty thick if you wanted to fill it with something. Although, if you tried a lightweight mousse, it might work,” she added, thinking harder, “or tiny solid shapes—”

  “OK, hold that thought!” Luke interrupted. “I’m hungry now.”

  “You’re always hungry.” Jackson elbowed his brother good-naturedly. “Have you seen this guy eat?” he asked Natalie. “He’s an animal.”

  “Hey!” Luke protested. “My table manners are just fine, thank you very much. Natalie can testify to that.”

  “I can?” she asked, teasing.

  He clutched his chest. “Ouch. That’s the thanks I get for using a paper napkin?”

  She giggled. “I didn’t realize you’ve been on your best behavior.”

  Alice looked back and forth between them. “Let’s dance,” she said suddenly. “Come on, Jackson.” She took his hand and tugged. “I love this song.”

  Jackson didn’t argue. “See you guys later,” he said, and he gave a salute as they headed off into the crowd.

  Luke turned to her. “Want to hit the floor?” he asked, raising a questioning eyebrow.

  Natalie shook her head quickly. “I don’t dance.”

  “Ever?” Luke asked, a playful smirk on his lips. “No foxtrot? No hora? No tequila-fueled two-step?”

  “Never,” Natalie vowed. “Trust me, it’s for everyone’s safety. I’m so clumsy,” she added, remembering how frustrated Oliver had always gotten with her when they attended his fancy parties. He would always abandon her halfway through to dance with a woman who didn’t trample all over his feet. “I’m doing you a favor staying off the dance floor.”

  “Hmm, we’ll see about that,” Luke said, but he didn’t press it. “First, we eat!”

  He offered his arm to Natalie, and after a beat of indecision, she took it. In a friendly way, she told herself, as they strolled through the crowd. So what if she was leaning closer, trying to figure out the scent of his cologne?

  Even friends still had a sense of smell.

  “OK, I’ve had time to scope things out, and I’ve figured out our game plan,” Luke said conspiratorially, like he was sharing the layout to a nuclear reactor. “Most people start with the snack foods. Big mistake. You fill up on popcorn, then there’s no room for that deep-fried turkey leg.”

  Natalie smiled at his serious tone. “Perish the thought.”

  “See, you mock me, but I know what I’m talking about.” Luke grinned back. “First, we hit the savory meats: turkey, spare ribs, brisket. Then dessert.”

  “What about sides?” Natalie asked, spotting a table full of salads and steaming mac and cheese.

  “Sides will only slow us down.” Luke whisked her past. “What are you, an amateur?”

  “Clearly,” she said, giggling.

  “You’ll learn,” Luke said, coming to a stop in front of the BBQ truck. Natalie sighed with disappointment. The line was longer than ever.

  “We’ll be waiting an hour,” she said, her stomach rumbling.

  “O ye of little faith.” Luke gave her a wink, and then instead of joining the crush, he led her around and knocked on the back door. A moment later, one of the truck guys stuck his head out.

  “We good?” Luke asked cryptically.

  “All set,” the guy said, passing over a brown paper bag.

  “Thanks, man,” Luke replied, slipping him some folded bills, and the guy disappeared back inside.

  Natalie blinked. “What just happened here?” she asked, amazed at the subterfuge.

  “The perks of planning.” Luke gave her a wink, then led her over to an empty spot at one of the leaf-strewn picnic tables. He opened the bag, producing takeout containers, plates, and plastic cutlery. “I slipped him a little extra earlier so we could skip the line.”

  “You did?” Natalie was impressed, but she also felt a flicker of unease. That sounded an awful lot like something a man would do . . . on a date.

  But Luke just dug into his stack of ribs with a satisfied sigh. “Yup. We don’t have time to wait around, not if we’re going to hit every concession here tonight. I told you, I’m in training!”

  Natalie relaxed again. He seemed far more focused on his plans for food domination than sweeping her off her feet—and she was relieved. She watched him slurp from a soda, totally unselfconscious and at ease. She couldn’t imagine Oliver relaxing like this: enjoying the local party atmosphere, and tapping hit foot in time with the local band.

  Luke glanced up and caught her looking at him. “What?” he asked, chin smeared with barbecue sauce.

  “You were right,” Natalie said, feeling a warm glow in her chest. She reached for her own food and got started. “This is fun.”

  7

  True to his word, over the next couple of hours, Luke hit every concession and food type on offer at the festival. Natalie reached her limit around the third dessert stall, but he went right on going.

  “I can’t believe you’re still standing,” she marveled, watching him polish off another slice of pie. “How? I feel like I could nap until Tuesday!”

  “A lifetime of preparation,” Luke said, finally setting his plate aside with a sigh. “Also, a secret stash of antacids, but don’t tell anyone. You’ll ruin my reputation.”

  Natalie laughed. It was dark out now, and the party had mellowed to a hum of laughter and conversation, people still dancing as the band played on, lights twinkling in the dark. “What reputation?” she asked. “You’re new in town, you get to make whatever one you like.”

  “Hmm, true.” Luke looked thoughtful. “Jackson has the whole ‘bad boy man of mystery’ thing covered, so what should mine be?”

  “Human garbage disposal?” Natalie suggested, clearing the debris of food wrappers he’d left on the table.

  “I was thinking more ‘irresistible playboy,’ ” Luke corrected her with a smirk. “Devilishly handsome, always ready to entertain.”

  “Ha!” Natalie laughed. “Are you sure about that? It might be tempting fate. I don’t know if the single ladies of Sweetbriar Cove need any more of a reason to pounce.”

  She nodded across the crowd, where sure enough, there was a group of girlfriends with one hungry eye trained on Luke.

  He followed her gaze. “OK, maybe not. What about you?”

  “My reputation?” Natalie paused. “I don’t want anyone talking about me at all. Except my chocolates,” she added. “But that’s all.”

  “Discretion is a virtue, then. I’ll remember that.”

  Natalie curled her hands around her warm cup of apple cider, shivering a little at the breeze.

  “Cold?” Luke noticed, and immediately pulled off his scarf. He wound it around Natalie’s neck and gently tucked it into the collar of her coat. “Better?”

  She nodded. “Thank you,” she murmured, feeling the warmth from the thick wool—and the trace of body heat he’d left behind. He had the thickest eyelashes, Natalie realized suddenly. Velvety and dark. The kind of eyes a woman could get lost in . . .

  “You know what would help keep you warm?” Luke’s smile turned persuasive. “A dance.”

  Natalie snapped back.“I told you, I can’t dance.”

  “So it’s ‘can’t’ now? Well we can fix that, no problem.” Luke got to his feet and offered his hand.

  “Luke . . .” Natalie tried to protest.

  “It’s a slow song,” he pointed out. “How much damage can you do with that?”

  “Plenty,” Natalie said, rueful. But he kept standing there, hand outstretched, with a rascal’s smile on his lips, and she felt her reso
lve waver. Who could resist a man like this?

  Not her. At least, not tonight.

  So, she took his hand and let him lead her to the crowded dance floor. “We should get Alice to prepare a waiver,” she told him nervously. “I’m serious, I can’t be held liable for what’s about to happen.”

  “You worry too much.” Luke came to a stop in the middle of the other couples. “Just trust me.”

  He placed one palm on her back and cradled her hand in the other. Then, as she was still reeling from the intimacy of such a simple touch, he drew her closer and began to move.

  Barely.

  “See? You’re a born dancer,” Luke said over her shoulder, as he swayed her in time to the old Cyndi Lauper song the band was playing.

  “Liar.”

  Natalie felt awkward and wooden in his arms, but Luke’s movements were steady. He steered her effortlessly, his body so solid against her that after a few clumsy steps, she couldn’t help but relax.

  “If you fall / I will catch you / I will be waiting . . .”

  She exhaled slowly. OK, so maybe this wasn’t so bad. Nobody was laughing at her, and Luke had yet to complain about her trampling on his toes. And even though her brain was already scrambling from being so close to him, it helped that she didn’t have to look directly into his eyes. Instead, they were cheek-to-cheek. Or rather, nose-to-shoulder, as Natalie looked out over the dance floor behind him. The space was full, people paired off in the moonlight. Alice and Jackson were dancing, laughing together over a private joke, and she saw Mackenzie and Lila and their partners, too, dancing slowly, lost in their own private worlds.

  Natalie smiled, resting her head against Luke’s shoulder before she even realized what she was doing. For a moment, she froze, her pulse racing, but Luke didn’t skip a beat, he just kept moving her in time with the music, as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

  And Natalie didn’t pull away.

  Her heart was beating faster now. What was she doing? Just dancing, she reassured herself. But still, it felt shockingly intimate. Their bodies blazed together, so close, she could almost feel his heart beating against her.

  So close, she could feel the whisper of his breath, hot against her cheek.

  Natalie’s pulse caught. She kept swaying against him, but inside, her mind raced, and her body prickled with awareness at every movement, every shift of his body against hers. She knew she should pull back, make some excuse and put a safe distance between them, but was this really so wrong?

  One dance. One innocent dance, bundled up in their coats and scarves. They weren’t even alone, they had half the town acting as chaperones. Natalie silently counted up her reasons why this wasn’t crossing the line.

  Then Luke’s hand closed around hers, his thumb tracing idly across her palm.

  It was the smallest of touches, but God, she felt it everywhere; the soft caress spiraling out, down her arm, and through her body, a shot of pure, electric desire.

  Natalie swallowed, squeezing his hand imperceptibly. As if in answer, Luke’s other hand tightened on the small of her back, drawing her even closer, his body taut and hard beneath the layers of clothing.

  “I told you, you’re a natural.” His voice was a murmur against her ear.

  “I have a good teacher,” she whispered back. And then she glanced up into his eyes.

  That was her first mistake.

  Natalie’s heart stuttered in her chest. Luke was watching her, tender and intent. Something passed between them, a sharp jolt of connection that cut her to the bone.

  She wanted him.

  She trusted him.

  Natalie stumbled with shock, treading heavily on his feet. “See?” she blurted, her cheeks flaming. “I’m a mess.”

  “You’re not. Here, just follow my lead,” Luke said, reaching for her again, but Natalie ducked back, out of reach.

  “No, I gave it a shot. It’s late, anyways,” she said quickly. “I should get home.”

  “I’ll walk you,” Luke offered, but Natalie remembered what happened the last time he’d taken her home.

  The kiss.

  She blushed harder. “No, stay! Enjoy yourself. I’m sure there are a dozen other women who are waiting to dance with you. See, what about her?” Natalie pointed to a pretty blonde woman, watching the dancing with a wistful expression. “She’s cute. You should go ask her.”

  Luke looked thrown. “Really, I don’t mind.”

  “Well, I do,” Natalie insisted. “I’m serious. How are you ever going to earn that playboy reputation if you don’t go flirt with anyone?”

  Before he could object again, Natalie took his hand and dragged him over to where the woman was standing. “Hi, my friend here would love to dance with you,” she announced. “This is Luke. Luke, meet . . . ?”

  “Tish,” the woman answered, looking delighted.

  “There. You two have fun,” Natalie said, shoving Luke a little closer to her. “Good night!”

  She turned and walked away before Luke could protest again, but when she snuck a look back, he was leading Tish onto the dance floor. Tish said something, and Luke laughed, then he pulled her effortlessly into his arms—where Natalie had been swooning only moments before.

  Jealousy cut through her, but Natalie forced herself to turn away and keep walking.

  This was what she’d wanted, wasn’t it?

  The dance had been a moment of madness, embracing temptation like that. It had felt so good—so right—to be there in his arms, but she knew she couldn’t risk it again. No, the sooner Luke started dating other women, the sooner that electric desire between them would fade.

  It had to, before someone got burned.

  * * *

  Back at her place, Natalie changed into pajamas and her fluffy new robe and set the kettle to boil for tea. Even though it was a cold night, she left the window open wide enough to feel the breeze and hear the strains of laughter and music from the party, which was still going strong across the square.

  Natalie listened to the festivities, feeling a sudden pang of loneliness. Everyone had been so welcoming, but still, there was a part of her that felt separate from her new friends, distanced by the secrets she was keeping and all the things she couldn’t say. Tonight had been so much fun until she’d let her guard slip; forgotten all the reasons she couldn’t get swept away in a slow song and Luke’s romantic embrace.

  She ached to feel normal again. To stop second-guessing herself, always feeling like she was one wrong move away from proving Oliver right.

  Would it ever get easier, with her past weighing her down?

  The kettle began to whistle, so Natalie went to make her tea. She took the mug and climbed out onto the rickety fire escape. It was dark, nothing but a sea of shadows, but she could still hear the ocean crashing, distant against the shore.

  She sat there, breathing in the salt night air, lost in memories.

  It hadn’t always been bad with Oliver; that was the most dangerous part. There were plenty of good times, too: swept up in his romantic gestures and the long nights they’d spent talking, like they were the only two people in the world. It was the first time Natalie had ever been in love, and she’d fallen hard and fast, like she could never hit the ground. Their first year together was a blur of candlelit dinners and spontaneous trips and sweet nothings. And if one of Oliver’s comments caught her the wrong way, well, Natalie must have misunderstood him. She’d never had a serious relationship like this before; she didn’t know how it worked. Sure, Oliver had to cancel last minute sometimes, but it was because he hated to be pinned down. She spent days waiting for him to call—and then felt like the most important woman in the world when he swooped in, telling her how much he’d missed her. And if she asked what had kept him or expressed any hurt that he’d gone back on their plans, he would always turn it around on her for being too possessive or needy. “You’re not going to be one of those women who always nag about where I’m going or who I’m seeing, are you?”
he’d teased her, early in their relationship. “It’s so boring dating someone insecure.”

  Of course, Natalie had fallen over herself insisting that she trusted him. She was cool and independent, and she didn’t need him to always keep his word. But when it was her turn to call a raincheck on one of their dates because of a catering job, Oliver had turned so cold, she’d spent two weeks leaving anxious voicemails, terrified that she’d ruined everything. When he’d finally showed up again, acting as if nothing had happened, Natalie had been too relieved to wonder why he was allowed such a double standard. She was just grateful she hadn’t lost him for good.

  Looking back now, the warning signs were so clear. Everything had to be on his terms; he always had to be the one in control. Natalie wished she’d just called his bluff and moved on, unscathed. But instead, over time, she’d willingly molded herself into the shape he’d wanted: always waiting, always on edge, always happy to receive even the smallest sign of affection from him. When she messed up and asked for too much—tried to assert herself, even a little—he didn’t get mad; that wasn’t his way. No, he’d turn icy instead. Silent and dismissive. Ignoring her calls and pulling away coldly until she was the one stumbling over an apology, begging him to forgive her for whatever she’d done wrong.

  And of course, he did forgive her, once she was on her best behavior again. “You’re lucky I love you so much,” he’d tell her, and she would actually believe him. Lucky, for a man like him to put up with her missteps and mistakes. It was years before she started to realize they hadn’t been mistakes at all.

  Was it any wonder she couldn’t trust herself anymore?

  Natalie swallowed back a pang of regret. She’d spent long enough blaming herself for being stupid and naïve, but even now, it was still hard to look back at her younger self with compassion instead of shame.

  So, she tried looking forward, instead.

  She got up and climbed back inside the apartment, getting ready for bed. The big gala was next week, and she needed to get an early start on the gift bags if she was going to be ready in time. The party was winding down outside, but she lingered by the window for a moment, listening to the sounds of people saying their goodbyes. She wondered if Luke was still dancing with that woman, Tish, and if they’d hit it off.

 

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