The Boyfriend List

by Jeannie Moon

  “You know . . .” Jenna fluttered her eyelashes at him, turned, and walked toward the barn. “I’d love to see the rest of the old stable.”

  “Really?” He followed, confused. “I don’t know that there’s much else—” He was startled when Jenna’s hand brushed the crotch of his jeans, making him hard almost immediately. Damn. “I think I get it.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Yeah.” He opened an outside door on the north side of the barn that was out of everyone’s view, and gave her a little push inside. “Let me show you around the old apartment.”

  “Oh, I’d love it,” she cooed. “Like a history lesson.”

  Following her up the stairs, Nate wrapped his arms around her midsection, holding her tightly to him, as he whispered in her ear, “I have every intention of teaching you a lesson, but it’s going to have nothing to do with history.”

  Jenna smiled and bit her luscious lips before she grabbed his hand and pulled him up the stairs.

  ***

  Taking the path around the house, Jenna was worried that Nate’s family would be able to tell what they’d just been up to. She felt like she had to fix her hair or put on lipstick or . . . something. “Could you wait one second?” Fishing through her bag, which was a mess of epic proportions because they’d dumped everything out in search of a condom, she pulled out a cherry-flavored lip balm. Shit. No lip gloss, lipstick, nothing. Just cherry-flavored lip balm.

  “You look fine. No one is going to know.”

  Feeling her face flush, Jenna started to panic. Dropping her bag on the grass, her arms slipped around his waist and she pressed her head into his chest. Her eyes burned, her breath got short. No. No. No. She was not going to cry. Not over this.

  “I want them to like me. What was I thinking?”

  Nate’s arms came around her, strong and secure. “Hey, hey. Stop. Why wouldn’t they like you? My da likes you already.”

  Jenna took deep breaths so she wouldn’t totally lose it, holding on to Nate like he was her only lifeline. “It was so dumb.”

  “Eh, it was a little risky. But never dumb. Being together is never a bad idea and I won’t let you think that.” Jenna’s heart stopped pounding, soothed by his voice, by his words. With the gentlest touch he tilted her face toward his, and in his eyes she saw everything she’d ever wished for—everything she’d dreamed about as a little girl, as a teenager wishing for love—was right there. She thought she’d been in love before and she’d been so, so wrong. This, the quiet support, the kindness, the warmth was what she wanted. It was what she’d always wanted.

  “Come on. Let’s go back, have a nice lunch, and my mother can tell you embarrassing stories about me.”

  “I can’t imagine you ever did anything embarrassing,” she sniffed, pulling herself together.

  Right then, his father rounded the corner and smiled at them, patting Nate on the shoulder. He stopped short, fished in his pocket, and turned. “Lass, I think this is yours.”

  He held out her brand-new lipstick. “Th-thank you.”

  “My pleasure. One of the lads found it right outside the apartment door.” When he winked and grinned Jenna felt the burn in her cheeks return. She could only imagine how red she’d gotten. Zero to mortified in no seconds flat.

  “Shit, Da.”

  “What?” He spied Jenna’s face and threw up his hands. “Oh, jeez. I’m sorry, darlin’.” He took her by the shoulders and pulled her into a massive bear hug. This was the most amazing group of people. She was still horribly embarrassed, but his father was a dear man. “Don’t fret. You aren’t the first caught in the apartment, you won’t be the last. Hell, where do you think that one was conceived?”

  He waved his hand at Nate, who froze, and that was all she could stand; Jenna burst into a cascade of giggles.

  “Oh, God.” Nate rolled his eyes, grabbed Jenna’s bag along with her hand, and pulled her away from his father. “I’m so sorry about that. I really am.”

  “It’s okay,” she replied, trying not to laugh. He was embarrassed for himself, for her. The poor guy. There was no controlling parents. She knew that well. The truth was, she was going to have to bring him home to see her family very soon. Her mother was asking an awful lot of questions.

  “I just don’t know if there’s enough brain bleach for the images floating around in my head right now. I’m never going to be able to take you up there again.”

  “Our parents say horrible things. I think it’s to get even with us for torturing them when we were growing up.” She kissed his cheek. “You’ll feel better after you meet my whole family. My father has nine siblings. My mother has six. They all live in Nassau County. It’s insanity.”

  “Shit. How many?”

  “Too many. They’ll make your family seem completely normal.”

  There was a moment of clarity between them that told them everything was changing.

  “We’re meeting families,” he said. “That has to mean something.”

  Jenna swallowed hard. “I think so. Now, introduce me to your mother before I chicken out.”

  ***

  Nate’s mom was sitting in a chair on the patio reading a book, and sipping a glass of iced tea. He was relieved to see she looked better than she had in the morning, but being dressed, with her makeup on, did help her look less stressed by the illness. But when he caught sight of her wrists and her hands, he could see the bones. A sign of what the cancer and the treatment had done to her body.

  She was in a pair of white slacks with a navy top and little red shoes. She looked like she should be going to the club. But that was his mother’s uniform. She’d been raised by strict parents who enjoyed their money and position. They were members of their church, of the country club, and the Junior League. A proud graduate of Barnard College, his mother planned on teaching. Then she met his father, and four children later, she was happily settled in, raising her family. There was a sadness around his mum sometimes, though, and it wasn’t the cancer. He wondered, when he caught her looking out in the distance, if she was thinking of his brother. If she knew something the rest of them didn’t.

  She must have heard them because she turned and smiled. Thank goodness there was something the cancer hadn’t stolen. His mother’s smile was still blinding. When she rose, Nate watched for a stumble, but she was steady on her feet and looking better than she had in a long time.

  “Jenna.” She extended her hand. “It’s such a pleasure to finally meet you.”

  “Thank you, Mrs. Bayard. Likewise.”

  “No Mrs. Bayard. That’s my mother-in-law. Please call me Liz.”

  “Thank you. Everything here is so beautiful. I’ve really enjoyed the morning.”

  Nate choked and his mother reached out and patted his back, concerned. If only Mum knew how much they enjoyed the morning.

  “We’re actually going to eat in the sun room. The landscapers are coming and they’re going to be doing the lawns. I think Sally is just about ready for us.”

  She led them into the kitchen and then through the house. Nate watched Jenna’s face as she took in each space, each piece of furniture and each color choice. The sunroom was off the wood-paneled great room with its massive fireplace and high ceilings, and just before they stepped into the glass-enclosed sun room, Jenna stopped dead. He almost slammed into her it was so unexpected.

  “What is it?”

  She was staring at a piece of art on the wall above the couch.

  His mother came back and saw what she was gazing at. “Oh, The Mustang. Isn’t it a gorgeous piece? My father bought it for us when he was in New Mexico a few years ago. An up-and-coming young photographer, Gia Albanese.” His mother stopped, her eyes wide. “Oh, oh my goodness! Is she a relative? I didn’t even realize.”

  But Nate did. He made the connection right away. Gia was what her parents sometimes called h
er. And some of her relatives. It was short for “Giovanna.” He said it without a thought.

  Hearing her name brought Jenna out of her trance.

  His mother was confused. Hell, he was confused. He knew she’d been a photographer in California, but he thought maybe she was doing baby portraits or wedding shoots. He didn’t know she was a high-end art photographer.

  “It’s not a relative, Mrs. . . . Liz . . . I’m Gia Albanese. As Nate said, my real name is Giovanna.”

  His mother brought her hand to her chest. “I’ve been trying to find you for years! I was hoping I could commission you to take some photos here, of the farm. My husband would treasure them.”

  Nate couldn’t believe it. Jenna had a camera full of photos she could share with his mother and no commissioning would be required. He was dating a serious artist. One who was no longer part of the art world, but was teaching little kids to love color and texture and light.

  What the hell had happened? What took her away from work she loved and was obviously a gift? He was going to unravel the mystery tonight. He’d called Harper earlier and she didn’t need Jenna for the next couple of days, so Nate had every intention of taking her to his house. He was going to find out what was going on with the ex-boyfriend who had obviously messed with her head, and with her photography.

  Something really bad had happened. He wanted to know what it was.

  ***

  Jenna followed Nate to his house, winding through the tree-lined streets of Locust Valley, another beautiful North Shore hamlet not too far from his parents. It was a secluded area, with older homes set on large lots, hills, and quaint neighborhoods. Jenna’s area, on the South Shore of Long Island was newer and flatter, but she’d grown up in an equally great neighborhood. Learning about life from the other kids on the block was one of the best things about their street. To this day, her best friends were the ones from her childhood. Not many people could say that.

  At lunch, his mother wanted to know all about Jenna’s work. About her inspiration and when she first knew she saw something special through the camera lens. It was odd talking about that part of herself. And talking about it with someone so interested, so excited to meet her, hadn’t happened in over two years. She’d left it behind when the bottom fell out of her life in California. Coming home was a fresh start, but seeing the photo, considered her signature piece, her personal favorite, hanging in someone’s home, brought the need to create flooding back.

  She’d done very well with her photography, gaining some minor celebrity status in the very tight-knit art world, but she’d always seen it as catching slivers of life. The world changed every second of every day. Her photographs froze time, like a memory. Unfortunately, her work was connected to too many memories Jenna wanted to forget.

  But today with Nate’s mom, there was a spark. Showing her the photos Jenna had taken of Nate’s da that day, and the ones of her very handsome boyfriend at the polo match, brought back the joy. Joy that had been stolen from her by a rat bastard who had never been punished.

  She pulled her Jeep into the long driveway, following his big silver pickup truck. Stopping in front of a three-car garage, Jenna took in the beautiful house. It was a single level with a porch that ran from one end of the house to the other. The siding, which was a dark gray, was set off by bright white trim and black accents. It was understated, classy—very much like the man who lived there. There were gardens around the house, lining the walks and surrounding the trees. Getting out of the Jeep, Nate took her bag from the backseat, and kissed her forehead. “Come on, let me show you around.”

  Once again, his fingers threaded with hers, and Jenna thought there wasn’t anything that made her feel so safe. He had questions though. She knew that. After their lunch, after what he found out about her career, Nate would want to know more. He deserved answers, especially if they had any chance of making it.

  He punched a code into the keypad by the garage door, and as the door opened it revealed an expensive sports car sitting in the bay. Jenna glanced at his well-worn truck and again at the car, which was spectacular. Nate waited for her reaction.

  “Is this a Maserati?” Jenna recognized it, she’d seen a few when she was out west. Talk about lifestyles of the rich and famous.

  “Yup. A GranTurismo.”

  “And you don’t drive it.”

  Nate shook his head. “Not usually.”

  “Oh. This car cost as much as the down payment on a house, and you let it sit in here?”

  “Pretty much. It’s not my style. I bought it because Owen and Jason pushed me. They thought we needed fancy cars for the image. I don’t give a shit about the image. I like my truck.”

  He walked toward the back of the garage and turned. He really didn’t care. Based on what Jenna was seeing, he was pretty uncomfortable with the whole lifestyle. “Show me your house,” she said, hoping to redirect the conversation.

  With his hand securely on the small of her back, Nate guided her inside, bringing her into a mudroom that looked like it came out of a catalog. The stacking washer and dryer, gorgeous counters and cabinets, a bench with cubbies, hooks for coats—it was perfect. Jenna loved the place already.

  The rooms worked together in a well-designed, open floor plan. It wasn’t a huge house, but it didn’t need to be. The kitchen was one that dreams were made of—cherry cabinets, granite, and high-end appliances. It also looked like it was never used, like the car. It was connected to a family-size dining room, which flowed into a great room with large, comfortable furniture. Finally, they ended in his bedroom, which was on the opposite side of the house from where they entered.

  Nate dropped her bag on a chair and pulled Jenna close. As always, every fiber of her being responded to the contact. They were right together. The chemistry, the way they read each other’s bodies, she’d never had a more generous lover, and as a result she responded in ways she never had before. Nate was hers. He was made for her. She just had to be strong enough, brave enough, to let herself fall completely into the relationship.

  One piece of clothing at a time, they undressed each other until they stood naked in each other’s arms. His touch was a gentle caress, almost like worship. They kissed and, soon, Nate was lowering Jenna to the mattress and covering her with his body. She loved this feeling—so close, so protective, so loving. He reached into his drawer, opened the packet and protected her, and then she felt him enter her slowly, inch by inch, stretching her, a welcome invasion. One that made her feel whole. Complete.

  Matched.

  The slow movements, the deep strokes, built in intensity and pace. Jenna followed his lead, watching the strain of the muscles in Nate’s shoulders, seeing the pleasure on his face.

  He was so beautiful, from his soft golden-brown hair, to his hazel eyes, to his beautiful toned body, she’d never want anyone else again. Nate was her heart, her soul, her love. She had to be brave enough to accept it.

  The orgasm built slowly, but once it took hold, it threw Jenna up and over. Arching against him, her hips ground into his, and with one final drive, he called her name as he found his release.

  Spent, Nate collapsed, rolling to his back and bringing her with him. She settled into the crook of his arm, their skin damp and warm. Bringing the covers over them, Jenna snuggled in as sleep took her.

  ***

  Jenna officially loved Nate’s kitchen almost as much as she loved him. After their nap, they went to the market, picked up what they wanted for dinner, and she set to preparing it as soon as they got back to the house. He had everything. Every conceivable pot, pan, or gadget was here, and it was all perfectly organized. Which was how she knew the kitchen was never used.

  “You don’t cook?” Jenna forced herself not to laugh as she watched Nate struggle with a clove of garlic.

  “Could you tell?”

  “Kind of. Here, let me show you. Since I’m
just going to chop this up for a sauce, it doesn’t need to be perfect.” She took a large butcher knife with a substantial flat area, laid it on top of the garlic, and smashed it with the flat of her hand.

  “Jeez! That’s a little violent.”

  “Cooking is messy. But it gets the job done.” She chopped the garlic and tossed it in a pan with heated olive oil.

  Nate sat on a stool at the counter and watched her. It should be making her nervous, but for some reason, just being together was comfortable. This life they were settling into was exactly what she wanted in a relationship. There was no push-pull, no competition. Just companionship, cooperation . . . love.

  She never thought she’d feel this way again. Stopping herself, Jenna realized she’d never felt this way before. What Nate Bayard had brought to her life was new and fresh and wonderful. A gift Jenna never thought would be hers.

  Hearing a pop, she turned around and saw he’d uncorked a bottle of wine, filling two glasses with the deep red liquid.

  She couldn’t hold it in anymore. She had to say it. “I love you.”

  Nate looked up and locked eyes with her. Crap. She’d been thinking it all day, but what if he didn’t feel the same way?

  “Excuse me?” He put the glasses down, and walked toward her. “Did you say . . . ?”

  “I love you.” It came out on a breath. “I love you, Nate.”

  The gentleness with which he took her face in his hands, in the way he kissed her, almost brought Jenna to tears. “I love you, too. So much,” he said. Resting his forehead against hers Nate made Jenna’s heart sing. “So very much.”

  Chapter Ten

  He should be protective.

  —#3, Jenna’s Boyfriend List

  Having dinner with Jenna’s family shouldn’t have concerned him, but as they got closer to the Italian restaurant where they were celebrating her uncle Sammy’s seventieth birthday, his stomach let him know that he was pretty nervous.

  Originally, she told him this was a small family dinner. Of course, small to the Albaneses had a different definition than small to his own family. He was walking into the mother of all Italian families at their family friend’s Italian restaurant. From what Jenna told him, “everyone” would be there. Every living aunt, uncle, and cousin, plus close friends, would be there to sing “Happy Birthday” to her favorite uncle.