Year of Living Blonde (Sweet Life in Seattle, Book 1)

by Simonne, Andrea

  “Liquid nitrogen.”

  Natalie’s eyebrows go up, but she doesn’t say anything, just watches as Anthony puts on the safety gloves and readies the Dewar flask. He unwinds the metal coil and switches the lever over to liquid. “Stay back,” he tells her. “This stuff is extremely cold and you don’t want to get any of it on you.”

  “Why do you have liquid nitrogen in your car?”

  “Some of my students were using it to cool telescope camera optics for a project they’ve been cobbling together this quarter.” He chuckles. “They made ice cream with it, too. It tasted pretty good.”

  Anthony presses the rag over the axe head and then puts the coil tip right up against it. He opens the valve and immediately there’s white smoke as the liquid nitrogen sprays across the rag pressed against the metal. There’s a crackling sound as everything freezes.

  “That should hopefully do it,” he says. Still wearing the safety gloves, he grabs the blunt back of the axe head and gives a hard tug.

  POP!

  The axe comes out of the door easily.

  He hears Natalie’s loud gasp. “Oh, my God!” Suddenly, she’s on top of him, throwing her arms around his neck as if he’s just won the Olympics. “You did it!”

  A CRUNCHING NOISE interrupts Natalie’s sexy dream about Anthony. She tries to tune it out, to ignore it, but it’s only getting louder. What strange monster is making that racket?

  Natalie opens her eyes. Lindsay is sitting on the edge of her bed.

  “Thank God, you’re finally awake.” Her sister is eating a bowl of granola and yogurt—her favorite anytime snack.

  “What time is it?”

  “Nine o’clock.” Lindsay smirks. “And now let me ask you a question. What time did you get home last night, you little tramp?”

  “Three in the morning.”

  “Hmm, just as I thought.”

  Natalie pulls the covers over herself. “Go away. I want to sleep some more.”

  “Not until I get details.” The crunching continues.

  “What details? I went to a star party and saw some celestial objects. There’s nothing more to tell.” Natalie tries to stop herself from smiling, but can’t quite manage it.

  “I see that tramp grin on your face, so spill it. Did you ride that man western style or side saddle?”

  Natalie groans and covers her face with a pillow. “I don’t even know what that means.”

  “It means if there was hanky-panky, I want to hear all about it. Not to mention, how did Excalibur wind up sitting on the dining room table this morning?”

  Natalie takes the pillow off her face and tucks it behind her head. “Anthony pulled it out when we got home. He used liquid nitrogen. Isn’t that crazy?”

  She remembers how pleased he looked, too, standing there with the axe. She couldn’t help but throw herself on him. It was momentous.

  Lindsay nods. “I figured it was him. Chloe’s going to think Anthony walks on water when she finds out.”

  “Have you talked to Chloe? Is everything okay?”

  “She called this morning. Everything is fine. She’s going with Peter to check out stables today.”

  “I see.” Peter and Chloe finally decided on a horse recently—a beautiful Quarter Horse that Chloe named Cinnamon because of her reddish brown color—but the next big decision was where to stable her. Natalie hasn’t met the horse yet, but has seen pictures.

  Lindsay crunches some more and raises an eyebrow. “You’re holding out on me.”

  “All right, he kissed me, but that’s all.”

  “And . . .”

  “And it was nice.”

  “Nice? Having someone make you a sandwich is nice. How was it for real?”

  Natalie thinks back to Anthony’s kisses. They were unlike anything she’d ever experienced. The way he licked her lips and the corners of her mouth before delving inside. It was as if he was eating a piece of fruit, only it was her. She’d never realized it before, but there was something stiff, almost formal, about the way she and Peter had been kissing each other all those years.

  “It was . . . erotic,” she finally manages to say.

  “Mmm, now we’re talking. I’m not surprised, though. I have an instinct about these things.”

  “An instinct?”

  “I can usually tell if a guy is going to be good in bed.” Lindsay stirs the contents of her bowl some more. “And Anthony doesn’t look like he’d need a road map to find the enchanted forest.”

  “No, I doubt it.” She suspects Anthony could be a tour guide.

  “So why didn’t you sleep with him? It would be good for you to rope that man.”

  Natalie sits up and grabs her phone to shut off the alarm. “Could you please stop it with all these dumb rodeo metaphors?”

  Lindsay chuckles. “Don’t change the subject.”

  “I told Anthony I wasn’t ready to take things further. I mean, I just got divorced. This is all kind of overwhelming.”

  “What did he say?”

  “He said, okay. That he was fine with just kissing.”

  “And you believe him? That’s the oldest line in the book.”

  “It is?” At the time Natalie worried that maybe Anthony wasn’t all that attracted to her and was trying to let himself off the hook. “He seemed sincere. He said we could just hang out—no pressure.”

  Lindsay sighs and scrapes out the last of the yogurt from her bowl. “When are you seeing him again?”

  “At noon. We’re going out for—”

  “Today?” Lindsay stops scraping.

  Natalie tells her they’re going out for a ride on his bike this afternoon.

  “My God, there’s a motorcycle involved!” Lindsay jumps up. “Why didn’t you tell me this before? How much time do we do have?” She stomps around the bedroom like a Hollywood director whose leading lady is having her first press conference. “I can’t work under these conditions! We need a bowl of ice water immediately!” Lindsay heads for the bedroom door.

  “I’m not doing the ice water,” Natalie calls after her.

  For years, she’s watched Lindsay stick her face in a bowl of ice water every morning as part of her beauty regime. Turns out Kate Hudson and Goldie Hawn have been doing it for years, too. See, Lindsay said, Kate and Goldie would know. Lindsay claims it helps with puffiness and lines but Natalie has never tried it, and never intends to, either.

  Natalie pulls her face from the ice water. And howls.

  “Don’t be such a baby.” Lindsay hands her a towel and instructs her to dab gently.

  Afterward, Natalie gets a cup of coffee and tries to warm herself. Besides the ice water, she does every other beauty trick Lindsay tells her to—including her famous Pepto-Bismol face mask.

  “You’ll love this. It makes your pores so tiny your skin looks like glass!”

  “I just hope it doesn’t constipate me,” Natalie says, lying on the sofa, covered in pink minty goo.

  “We all have to suffer for beauty.” Lindsay is sharpening a pair of tweezers and stops to give Natalie a sadistic grin.

  What’s more, Lindsay insists that Natalie not wear any of her beloved shapewear. “You don’t want him feeling you up and running into all that nylon. That’s a turn-off.”

  “But we’re only kissing.”

  “Please, there’s no way he’s not going to want to get his hands on those.” Lindsay motions toward Natalie’s ample chest. “And if he doesn’t make a move for those headlights, you got bigger problems because then he’s gay. But don’t worry, he’s not gay.”

  By the time Anthony arrives at noon—on time again, she notices with a thrill—she’s been plucked, blow-dried, and groomed within an inch of her life.

  She sees the slow appreciative smile that spreads across his face as he takes in her appearance and decides it was all worth it.

  I’d do it again and more.

  And she has to hand it to Lindsay, too, because she got it just right. A little cleavage, not too much
. Flattering makeup. Tight jeans with pointy-toed black boots. Her long blonde hair is loose and flowing over her shoulders.

  She can’t remember the last time a man gazed at her with this kind of desire.

  Certainly not Peter.

  “You look great,” Anthony says.

  Natalie bites her lip and it immediately draws his attention. She remembers his comments about her mouth last night and feels shy. It’s one thing to look the part, but it’s another to be the part.

  She turns and catches Lindsay’s eye and her sister gives her a quick wink.

  “Hi, Anthony.” Lindsay steps forward with good cheer. “What’s your secret? I’m dying of curiosity.”

  “Secret?”

  “How did you manage to pull out Excalibur? Many men before you have tried and failed.”

  Anthony rubs his jaw. “Well, I used liquid nitrogen to bring down the temperature of the axe and contract the metal.” He starts monologuing about something called the Leidenfrost effect and how he used the rag to counteract it.

  “Wow,” Lindsay whispers to Natalie. “He really is a geek.”

  Natalie nods, though she’s getting turned on listening to him.

  “In any case, I’m glad it worked and you can keep your door,” Anthony finally says with a grin.

  Lindsay has her phone. “Would you mind if I take a quick picture of you with the axe. My niece is going to be curious about who pulled it out.”

  “Uh, sure.”

  “Oh, and you should come to our potluck dinner on Friday,” Lindsay says.

  Natalie turns to her in surprise. This is the first she’s heard about inviting him for dinner.

  “Thanks, but I already have plans on Friday,” Anthony tells her.

  “Are you sure?” Lindsay tosses her hair. “You’ll be missing a great party. We throw a kick-ass potluck.”

  “Let’s invite him another time,” Natalie interjects quickly. It’s clear that Anthony doesn’t want to come for dinner. She tries not to let herself wonder if it’s because he has a date. It’s just a small gathering, anyway. Lindsay invited Oliver, Blair is bringing Graham, and Natalie told Chloe she could have a few friends over for a slumber party.

  Lindsay goes to grab the axe and Anthony holds it while she snaps a few photos with her phone.

  Finally, Natalie and Anthony say their goodbyes and head out to where his motorcycle is parked in her driveway—a glossy red Ducati with a sleek aerodynamic design.

  Sex on wheels.

  It’s exactly the kind of motorcycle she’d expect a hot young guy like Anthony to ride. How old is Anthony, anyway? The thought gives Natalie pause. A little bit younger than me, but how much?

  He hands her one of the black helmets attached to the back and Natalie puts it on, though she isn’t quite sure how to deal with the fit.

  “Do you need help?” Anthony comes over to her. As he leans close, fiddling with the adjustment, she studies him.

  He’s blindingly gorgeous. Except for some dark stubble, their late night hasn’t affected his appearance at all. His eyes are clear and the whites almost glow. Natalie finds herself fascinated by his beard. Peter with his blond hair and pale skin rarely had stubble and always kept himself closely shaved. She wants to reach out and touch his face, but she’s too timid. Unsure if she can claim that kind of familiarity.

  “How does that feel?” he asks, after fastening the helmet. “Comfortable?”

  “It’s good.”

  Anthony grabs his own helmet and seats himself on the bike with his usual easy grace. He’s wearing a Star Wars T-shirt with that same motorcycle jacket she’s seen on him before—black with a white stripe that runs across the chest and down each arm. It’s well-fitted and shows off his broad shoulders to a near devastating effect.

  After slipping his helmet on, he takes the motorcycle off its kickstand and motions to her.

  “Climb on.”

  Here goes nothing.

  She slides on behind him with more clumsiness than grace. It’s awkward and strange and she doesn’t know what to do with her arms, which are flapping beside her. Not to mention how her groin has slid tight against his ass. She tries to scoot back, but just keeps sliding forward again.

  “Hold on to me,” he says, speaking through his helmet. “And lean in with me when I make a turn.”

  “Okay.”

  Lindsay, having had numerous boyfriends with motorcycles over the years, gave Natalie some etiquette tips. Her biggest one—don’t grab his dick by mistake.

  Which is, of course, all Natalie can think about until she slides her arms around Anthony’s waist. Then all she can think about is how strong and solid he feels.

  Thank God, lust can’t kill me.

  He starts up the motorcycle with a gritty roar and before she knows it they’re riding. She hangs on tight and tries to lean into the turns like he instructed. At first she’s self-conscious, but after a short while starts to enjoy herself. Along with the steady hum of the motorcycle, there’s a steady hum of excitement building within her.

  I could get used to this.

  Even though it’s winter and the temperature is bracing, it’s a clear sunny day. Her body is snug against Anthony’s back and as they ride she discovers there’s an intimacy with her surroundings that you don’t get with a car.

  Anthony takes her for a drive around Lake Washington on the Seattle side.

  “How are you doing back there?” he says above the roar of the engine.

  “Great!”

  They ride around the lake for a while, but eventually Anthony heads toward downtown Seattle. They cruise along the water until he finds a place to park near Pier 54.

  They both climb off the motorcycle. Anthony pulls off his helmet and then turns to help with hers, too. “Hungry yet?”

  “Starving,” she admits.

  “Me, too. Let’s go find some grub.”

  He attaches their helmets to the bike and locks everything up while she checks out their surroundings. It’s been years since she’s been down to the Pier.

  Rows of street vendors line the sidewalk near where they parked and when one of them comments “nice bike” to Anthony, he asks the guy if he’s planning to be around for a while. “Yeah, why?” Anthony offers him twenty bucks to keep an eye on his motorcycle—an offer the guy jumps at.

  “Do you usually do that?” Natalie asks when they start walking.

  “Sometimes. It depends on the area. A nice motorcycle can be a real target for thieves.”

  As they walk together, a tingly excitement still hums through her and she suspects it has less to do with the motorcycle ride and more to do with being this close to Anthony. They wander past a few shop windows. It’s difficult not to notice how many lingering glances he gets from women. At least he seems to ignore them.

  “So, how was your first motorcycle ride, Miss Natalie?”

  “I loved it.”

  “Yeah? I’m glad to hear that. I took it easy with you at first, but you seemed comfortable enough that I started to punch it.”

  Natalie remembers how he drove fast, but she felt safe the whole time. With some surprise she realizes she trusts Anthony. There’s something capable and solid about him.

  “Is it hard to ride a motorcycle?” she wonders aloud.

  “Not really. Like anything, it takes practice.”

  “Do you think I could try it?”

  They’re passing a tourist shop selling T-shirts and Anthony stops and turns to her with a horrified expression. “You want to ride my Ducati?”

  “Not alone or anything,” Natalie says quickly. “But with you in back, sitting behind me.”

  His horror appears to be turning into panic.

  “Just for a short distance,” she adds. “Like maybe around a parking lot.”

  Anthony’s handsome face goes blank as he’s clearly searching for something to say. He blinks at her, but still doesn’t speak.

  “Do you need a paper bag to breathe into or something?”r />
  He offers a small grin. “More like one to throw up into, I think.”

  “You can say no.” She laughs.

  He puts his hand up. “Just give me a second. I’m waiting for my heart rate to stabilize.”

  “Think of something peaceful. Like me not ever riding your motorcycle. How’s that?”

  “Yeah, okay—thanks, that’s helping a lot.”

  They start walking again and Natalie can’t quite control her amusement. “So you’re really attached to your motorcycle, huh?”

  “If you knew how much I paid for it, you’d understand. It was a real extravagance on my part.”

  “All right, well, I’ll settle on being a passenger—for now.”

  Seagulls fly overhead and the air is tangy with the smell of saltwater. When they walk by an outdoor fish and chips place, Anthony motions toward it. “What about eating here?”

  Natalie shades her eyes and looks over. “Okay.”

  “You sure? We can go to a restaurant if you want, but I was thinking it might be nice to sit outside.”

  “This is good. I like sitting outside. Plus, we’ll get some exposure from our nearest star, right?”

  “That we will.”

  They get in line to order food and Natalie decides to ask him why he can’t make it to dinner on Friday. “Do you have a date?”

  “Sort of.”

  “Oh.” She feels kind of let down. Of course he’s still seeing other women. This is just a casual thing, after all.

  They get up to the window and after asking her what she wants, Anthony orders food and drinks for both of them. She offers to pay for the meal, but he dismisses the idea with a shake of his head.

  “I’ll just go find us a place to sit then.”

  The seating area is packed, but as she scans the crowd, a table suddenly opens up right near the water. Quickly she pushes her way through the throng and gets there right before a punk girl with dreadlocks does. The girl glares at Natalie, but Natalie pretends not to notice.

  Suck it up, sister—age before beauty.

  As Natalie tries to scrub the grime off the table with a napkin, she decides that it doesn’t matter if Anthony has a date on Friday. No matter what happens, she’s going to relax and let herself enjoy today.