It seemed to be a very popular store, with a wide range of customers, from the smallest of children delighting over rubber frogs and eyeballs, to older ones devouring books on every nature subject under the sun—literally—to adults who seemed spread out around displays of rocks, telescopes and home furnishings all paying their due to raw nature.
It was the type of store that played ethereal music laced with nature sounds for its clientele. He’d never thought much about that type of music. His taste ran more formal, classical and opera, but this was nice. A couple of children pushed him aside to get at the display he was apparently blocking, picking up long wooden sticks and turning them over. The sound of rain rose from the objects. He read the display calling them African rain sticks, he smirked as he thought the name suited. This entire store was a wonder.
After his senses stabilized he looked around again, finding her at the CD display wearing headphones, her eyes closed, obviously loving whatever it was she heard. He stood in quiet awe for minutes as she smiled, bit her lower lip, took deep breaths and simply enjoyed the music. He’d never seen anyone so intently enjoying something in all his life. He would die to hear what she heard. To feel what she was apparently feeling.
A man brushed alongside her reaching for a CD and startled her out of her reverie. Nick wanted to tackle him. And after spending years playing football, he knew he could take him down easily and lay him out flat. Common sense told him however, that to do so would undoubtedly take half the displays with them, so he grudgingly restrained himself.
She pulled the headphones back on her head and gave him a shy smile, then looked away. He wasn’t close enough to hear what the man said, but she gave a curt nod, then left the CD stand. They both watched her as she moved further into the store and stopped at a display of candles, picking up several, smelling and delighting in them.
Nick looked at the other man, who still hadn’t taken his eyes off her. He knew a pick-up when he saw one, even one as flawlessly played out and yet fumbled as that one had been. He wondered what he’d said, why she reacted as she had. It was almost fear that crossed her face before she scurried away. Even now she didn’t seem as comfortable as she had been listening to the music.
Nick noticed a covert glance on her part towards the man still standing at the CD rack. She didn’t seem self-assured and independent now the way she usually did. She seemed, frightened? Uncomfortable? He let out a breath. It was wishful thinking on his part he realized. He wanted a reason to rescue her, because rescuing was what he did.
A sales woman asked if he needed anything. Beside my head examined? He smiled at the woman and assured her he didn’t. Then he moved further into the store himself stopping at a display of Native American art. Some of it was so heart-stoppingly beautiful he felt a stirring deep within him, as if the art was speaking to him. Which he nearly laughed at because he couldn’t remember how many times his mother and older sister had said those exact words about displays in various museums and he’d always thought they were nuts.
When he looked back up, she was gone. He put the art away and searched the store. He found the man who’d attempted to flirt with her, he had moved on to a brunette. Nick wondered how?
After you see the sunset, even the best painting or photograph of it can never satisfy you again, it’s never enough. He looked back up and met her eyes.
Nothing but the original could ever satiate the hunger for the real thing.
He gave her a tentative smile, she briefly returned it, but then looked away. Leaving Nick feeling as if he’d just been absorbed by the sunset, becoming part of it.
He thought of what Matthew and West would do in this situation, wondering what on earth he should do. He was a Chilton for God’s sake. A Chilton never felt in over their head, never got nervous. He could go up and speak to her. He looked over his shoulder, both the other man who’d attempted it and the brunette were gone…or he could wait until the next time he saw her in the courtyard.
He blew out a breath.
Or I could act like the craven coward I seem to have become and just keep watching her from afar.
Towards the back of the store where the lighting had been subdued, in part to display a number of object that would glow in the dark with black light, there was a circular display in the middle of the floor. The display held a variety of precious stones and polished rocks. She was picking up different ones and running her hand over the surface. Nick was mesmerized. It was like watching her with the music, only this time instead of her facial expressions telling the story, her beautiful hands were.
He moved close enough to see that she had long slender fingers and meticulously manicured nails. He noticed her caressing another rock with all the passion and tenderness it only seemed right to give an animate object and felt his gut tighten with arousal. She was so in her own world, he wondered if she even remembered she was in the store.
She picked up a shiny pale blue one, ran her thumb over the surface and lit up the room with her smile. Nothing seemed to be glowing as brightly as her. She rolled the stone around and around in her hand and fingers squeezing it tight and obviously deriving some pleasure that mere mortals could never understand. She pulled a tiny plastic bag from the display and put the blue stone, along with several others inside and pressed the bag to her heart. Nick stood in wonder.
They were stones, chunks of rock that, granted in their current polished state were...attractive he supposed, but she hadn’t really even been looking at them, she’d been feeling them. As if they held some life force that only she could detect and it fascinated him how desperately he wanted let in on the secret.
He took a step forward, courage now pulsing through his veins. He had to talk with her, he couldn’t wait another minute. Even if she did set him down the way she had the other man—it seemed only right that she should, clowns and goddesses should not breath the same air, let alone dance together—but he had to try.
“God, Keely. Not more damn rocks.”
She seemed just as startled as Nick had been at the intrusion and the terse voice directed at her.
Keely.
Nick turned his back to them, pretending to study a chart of the planets. He hadn’t gotten a good look at the man before he turned, but from the quick glimpse he got, the man could have been his father’s double, in style and manner if not in looks. Nick took a casual look over his shoulder. The man’s back was to him, but it was easy to tell this man’s hair hadn’t gone gracefully gray as Nick’s father’s had, but remained jet black. He was tall and wore an expensive suit. Nick nearly lunged at him when he pulled the bag of stones from Keely’s hands and dropped it back on the display.
“We have more damn rocks in the apartment than anything else. Every room I go into—rocks. Rocks in glass dishes, rocks in silver trays, rocks in bigger rocks with holes drilled into them.”
He took her hand and started leading her from the store. “And did you think I would miss the new display of raw amethyst in the crystal champagne flute? God save me from the damn rocks.”
And with that, they were gone and Nick was left staring after them as she followed him like a recalcitrant child. When the shock began to wear off he moved to the display where she’d been standing. He could somehow still feel the warmth she left behind. He picked up the discarded bag of stones and looked back in the direction they’d left in.
In the world he normally moved in, he’d seen enough young girls attracted to powerful men that he hardly noticed anymore. That was one thing Nick had to admit about the man who’d just been here; he was a player, and he was powerful. Still, he didn’t show her an ounce of affection, and she hadn’t said a word to him. It made him incredibly sad.
He took the bag to the register and purchased the precious stones she’d selected, then went back to the store with the wedding gifts displayed in their window and bought the most expensive champagne flute they had.
• • •
“Hey! What are you doing behind the mac
hine?”
Nick couldn’t help but smile at the perky redhead as she leaned across the conveyer belt that brought goods to where he stood. He laid his hand in an exaggerated protective gesture across the cash register.
“Say it like that and you’ll hurt her feelings, Layla.” He shared a warm smile with the young girl. “Truck didn’t come in, I’m helping out where they need it.” He focused his fire blue eyes on her. “You buyin’ anything?”
She gave him a wicked smile that would have matched his own down to the last innuendo. “What you sellin’, baby doll?”
He let out a loud bark of laughter and threw his head back. He truly enjoyed her sense of humor. She was one person that always caught him unawares and he found himself laughing often around her.
“Layla, honey, you’re young enough to be my daughter, the only thing I’m selling you is bubble gum and soda pop. Maybe the latest Britney Spears CD.”
She stood up, her spine straight and indignant.
“Hey! I’m nearly twenty and so unless you were spawning yourself at sixteen—which while technically feasible, doesn’t seem likely—I couldn’t possibly be your daughter.” She leaned back over and purred. “Besides, didn’t you tell me that was how old your friend’s new bride was? And he’s two years older than you, right?”
He took her by the shoulders and straightened her by pushing her back gently.
“Layla, you’re nineteen, I’m thirty-six, and Matthew and Sasha are deeply in love and even he was disturbed by their age difference in the beginning. Now go find some work to do, another man to stalk, anything.”
She gave him a big smile, a red curl bouncing above her left eye.
“And you’re in love with the blonde in the courtyard, right?”
He dropped his hands from her shoulders and put an emotional distance between them.
“I’m not in love with anyone. Although I hope to be someday.”
Layla hopped up on the conveyer belt and Nick wished beyond anything he’d get a customer to chase her off.
“You haven’t been doing the three o’clock thing lately.” A large smile broke across her face making her all the more beautiful while she leaned over backwards bringing her face closer to his. “How come? Lover’s quarrel?”
Nick did something that probably could have got him fired at that moment. He left his register, came around the other side bodily lifted her down from his line and placed her on the floor.
“You have to be lovers to have a lover’s quarrel and she’s married.”
That’s what he’d decided, even though she didn’t wear a ring, he truthfully couldn’t pretend that the man in the store had been her father. He’d spent a week of sleepless nights trying to discern whether or not his strong sense of right and wrong would let him play around with someone else’s woman and when he discovered it was an absolute no, he stopped going to the courtyard at three to see his mystery woman. There no longer seemed to be a point to it.
“Go back to work, Layla, or go read true confessions magazine, but my life is a closed book.” He kissed the top of her head and winced having no idea why he couldn’t control his impulses. “Even to you, my dear.” He gave her a gentle push away from him and his register and circled back around behind it.
She took two steps and turned again. “Okay, but you wanna have lunch with me and Stephanie, then.” Another sexy smile. “We’ll cheer you up.” Her voice was laced with innuendo, but Nick was able to cut through it to see a genuine offer there as well. He gave her a resigned smile.
“Will it make you go back to work and leave me alone for the rest of the afternoon?”
“Indubitably.”
When she grins like that, she looks about twelve. He had to laugh, knowing how insulted she would be if she knew what he was thinking at that moment.
“All right, then, say one thirty?”
She shot her index finger at him and winked. “One thirty.”
She disappeared into the aisles of chocolate and stationary leaving Nick with a mild headache and a smile of his own. That girl was a force of nature—it was the only way to describe it. He couldn’t resist the chuckle rising in his throat and released it as he went back to work.
• • •
He knew the instant he walked into the courtyard that he’d made a terrible mistake. She was sitting at the same table as usual, her girlfriend with her, and she was crying. How was he supposed to ignore that? She sat across the table from her friend, a vat of tissues sitting between them and was seemingly pouring out her heart. Every cell in his body was ready to slay whatever dragons she needed slaying. He usually felt protective of women, but this was all out ridiculous, off the charts insane.
He ushered Stephanie and Layla into the sub shop and ordered, trying very hard to ignore his own body. Once again, he got pickles because his thoughts were still very much outside.
Why is she crying?
He glanced out the door and could see her holding the tissue to her nose and shaking her head very animatedly disagreeing with whatever was said. He paid the cashier for all three lunches without thinking and got a peculiar stare from each of the girls.
“What, am I stepping on your bra-burning shoes?” He cringed even as he said it. There was nothing wrong with a woman having independence, he just didn’t want to be emasculated for it. “Sorry, just let me buy, okay?”
“Yeah fine. But my shoes don’t burn my bras.” Layla said as she picked up her tray and leaned close enough for only him to hear. “Technically, I don't own any.” She winked as she made her way outside and added, “And I don't mean shoes, baby.”
Stephanie batted her lashes at Nick as she gathered her tray. “I like a man who knows how to be a man.”
Nick laughed as he held the door for her. “Well, honey, you’re the only one.”
A few moments later they were settled at his usual table, the one that faced the table where she sat. Keely. He liked her name and had to admit he was glad the other man had used it simply because he liked knowing it, pathetic though that seemed.
He’d thought for a half second about taking the chair that would keep his back to her, but he knew it was an irrational consideration because he’d never really do it and just took the same chair he sat in every day. Stephanie snagged the chair beside him, much to what looked liked displeasure from Layla.
“So what’s a gorgeous hunk of a guy like you doing working at the old Wal-Mart for anyway?”
Layla placed her chin on her steepled fingers and batted her lashes at him. This was one of the reasons he’d avoided any closeness with the people he’d met since moving from Virginia to California. He hated lying to them, and was terrible at it as well, but what was he supposed to say?
I’m Senator Chilton’s youngest son and had to get away from my well-meaning—yet suffocating—family for a while and discover who I am without them?
It might be the truth, but he wasn’t willing for it to get around. He didn’t want to be the Senator’s son, for once in his life he just wanted to be plain old Nick. He drew a deep breath and flashed his smile at Layla. “Just taking a life break I suppose.”
“How fascinating.”
The quiet brunette startled him. Layla was such a dominating presence he’d forgotten Stephanie was even there. Of course he was also slanting covert glances at the table across the courtyard by the fountain every three seconds as well. He looked to Stephanie—who had stars in her eyes—and uncomfortably thanked her.
He took another bite of sandwich, forgetting to swallow before asking, “So what about you two? Why Wal-Mart?”
His eyes unwillingly went to Keely who now had her head down on her arms as the young girl soothed her back. It was killing him to not know what happened. All his protective instincts were racing, his adrenaline pumping. It was as if a silent call had gone out. Calling all white knights! And he had a deep-seated need to answer it.
He realized Stephanie was in the middle of answering his question and he’d misse
d the entire beginning of what seemed like a lengthy answer to such a simple question. He swallowed another bite of sandwich then tried focusing in on her big brown eyes.
“And so in two years I’ll have the experience and the knowledge to back it up.” She finished, looking very please with herself. Nick felt shame wash over him, he’d barely heard a word but he smiled reassuringly as if he agreed with every one.
Layla sat up straighter, shot her friend an evil glare and began her recitation on why she worked at Wal-Mart, but Nick simply couldn’t take it anymore. He wiped his mouth with a napkin while standing.
“Will you ladies please excuse me for a minute?”
He didn’t wait for their answer and as he walked away he caught Layla throw several of the discarded pickles at her friend. “What are you doing? I told you he was mine.”
Nick didn’t know what he was going to say or what he thought he was doing.
Another man’s woman. Another man’s woman.
It was all that ran through his mind the whole ten feet to her table. Her head was still down so she hadn’t seen him approach. Something he was thankful for, because if her smoky blue eyes had met his, he would probably have done a sharp U-turn halfway there.
When he arrived he placed his hand lightly on one of her extended arms that was holding a fresh tissue.
“I apologize up front for intruding, but are you all right?”
She looked up at him clearly startled and he realized he’d been wrong before, her eyes weren’t smoky at all. They were as pale a blue as the cloudless summer sky or the baby blue tank top she was wearing today. They were also a little bloodshot and puffy and her face was tear streaked and...bruised.
Rage shot through him until he could barely contain his urge to hit someone himself. Her lip was cut, although not bleeding anymore and there were faint bruises all around the left side of her mouth. He saw when she tried to smile, the effort caused her pain. The smile ended up a grimace accompanied by a wince. Then she wiped tears from beneath her eyes carefully with the tissue she’d been clutching when he walked up. He shot a quick look to the girl beside him and held out a hand.
Anything She Wants Page 2
