by Zoe York
“I like to think of it more as being a devoted daughter,” she replied. “I want to give Dad my full attention.”
Nate raised a brow. “And you’d hoped that no one would stop by?”
Busted. “Well, I certainly hadn’t bargained on anyone catching me almost naked.”
Nate had the good sense to look embarrassed. “You had underwear on, if my memory serves me correctly.”
Warmth crept into Shelby’s face, and it wasn’t anything to do with the harsh Aussie sun. Since becoming more comfortable in her body, lingerie was something she liked to indulge in, because it was a treat she’d often denied herself when she was younger. It had always been a case of: When I lose weight, I’ll buy that fancy bra. When I lose weight, I’ll be able to wear those stockings.
When, when, when.
These days, if Shelby wanted to treat herself to something nice, she didn’t feel like she needed to “earn” it by losing weight. But all of that meant Nate hadn’t simply caught her in a cotton T-shirt and undies from Bonds. Oh no, the La Perla set she slept in was semi-sheer silk and lace, designed more for play than sleep even though it had been eons since Shelby had invited a man into her bed.
Her gaze met Nate’s and something sizzled in the air, like a steak hitting a smoking barbeque. She gulped, tearing her eyes away and looking straight ahead as they walked across the parking lot and onto the soft grass. Ahead, there was a path which would take them to some of the prettiest views this side of the coast.
“It would have been a hell of a lot more awkward if I slept in the nude,” she quipped, sneaking a glance from behind her sunglasses.
It was hard to read him when her eyes were distracted by the sharp cut of his jaw, the stubble contrasting against tanned skin and the dark hair brushing the collar of his shirt. Nate Ritter was her favourite brand of masculinity—earthy, natural. A little rough around the edges. She’d worked with some incredibly beautiful men in her career, but they often spent longer on their appearance than she did. In other words, not her type at all.
“Uh, yeah. I wasn’t trying to look at anything. I just…” He cleared this throat. “I honestly didn’t know anyone was there. Your father mentioned you were coming but he said it wouldn’t be until next week.”
“My schedule freed up earlier than expected.” Her sandals crunched on the path of packed earth.
The trees shifted in the breeze, throwing dappled light around them. The scent of eucalyptus and wattle mixed with the briny familiarity of the ocean. If you could smell blue and green, it would be here.
“When did you start modelling?” Nate asked.
“I got scouted not long after I moved to Melbourne. I was in my school uniform, of all things. But I didn’t start working full-time until I’d graduated. That’s when I left for New York.” She shook her head. What a baby she’d been at nineteen, yet she thought she knew everything. “It was a whirlwind.”
“And you’re really passionate about fashion?” he asked, peering at her.
They path broke through the trees and the ocean appeared, stretching out like a sparkling blanket along the horizon. Deep sapphire water hit the pale azure of the sky in the distance, the whole scene infusing her with a sense of comfort and rightness that’d been sorely lacking in her life of late. The ocean called to her. It soothed the frayed endings of her nerves.
No matter how many years she stayed away, the scent haunted her.
“It’s more than fashion,” she said, stopping at the rocky edge of the path. “Being a plus-sized model means more than showing off clothes. I’m a representation that beauty isn’t one size fits all. I’m a role model for young women. I’m proof that you don’t have to be thin to get ahead.”
She’d said those words in so many interviews, over and over and over until the whole speech tumbled off her tongue without a second thought.
Nate stood close to her as they watched the water push and pull against the coastline. “How do you feel about that?”
Shelby blinked. “What do you mean?”
“How do you feel about being a role model?”
No one had ever asked her that before. The reporters usually nodded, took their notes and wrote their generic article on body image…then went back to publishing the “real” fashion features with the size-zero models. Truthfully, she’d become a little numb to it in recent years.
“It’s important.” She turned and continued along the path, Nate falling into step beside her. “But I think the message would be stronger if they didn’t Photoshop the hell out of me.”
“They do?”
“Yeah.” Shelby laughed, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear. Almost immediately the wind kicked it back out. “You can only be a fat model if nothing else is wrong with you. Models are allowed a maximum of one imperfection each.”
She’d meant it as a joke, but Nate frowned. His eyebrows gathered above his nose as he stared straight ahead. “That’s ridiculous.”
“It’s the industry.” She shrugged. “You have to be thick-skinned. That’s why I work with the younger girls when they get signed to our agency. They need someone to help them through the nasty bits and prepare them for the realities of the job.”
“Was it tough for you?”
Shelby smoothed her hands down the front of her dress, feeling vulnerable at the serious turn of their conversation. Why was she even telling Nate about this? Her career was her business. She didn’t even share her true feelings with her father. He’d tell her to leave and, until she had an alternative that would keep her occupied, she had to put up with it.
“I survived. I’m used to people judging me for the way I look. But I’m tough and I can handle it.” Her gaze followed the looping flight of a butterfly across their path. It wasn’t one of those overtly colourful butterflies you’d see in pictures for beauty products—it was white. Plain. Perhaps unappealing to some.
But it had still managed to transform itself.
“What about you?” she asked, keen to turn attention away from herself.
“Your life is far more interesting than mine.” Nate raked a hand through his thick hair. “Teaching doesn’t exactly make for riveting career conversation.”
“I come from a family of teachers,” she reminded him. “I have a deep respect for the profession. Besides, you don’t get to weasel out of the conversation by playing the ‘I’m boring’ card.”
They stopped at a stone bench and sat, facing out to the view.
“The short version is I moved to Sydney for university. I met a woman. Got married and we moved here. She hated it…and after a while she hated me.” He said it without emotion, without regret. He could have been reciting a grocery list for all the feeling that showed on his face. But Shelby wasn’t fooled. “Needless to say, we’re no longer married.”
“And now you’re the resident PE-slash-maths teacher.”
“Yep. If you need to brush up your algebra skills while you’re here, I’m your guy.” He turned to her. “Your dad has been a great friend to me, especially during the divorce.”
She didn’t want to sympathise with Nate Ritter, but her big, squishy heart always wanted the best for people. Her aunt had always said she was a soft touch; a girl too gentle and too kind for the career she’d chosen. For the life she’d been dealt. But try as she might, the lessons her father instilled in her from a young age were part of her DNA.
Treat others as you wish to be treated…even when they don’t return the favour.
“He’s a good man.” Shelby traced a circle with the toe of her sandal.
Nate opened his mouth as if to say something but snapped it shut a second later. Was the past dancing on the tip of his tongue as it was on hers? She remembered kissing him as vividly as though it had only just happened. The feel of his lips against hers, the sweet loop of his arms around her waist, the gentle stroke of his hand up and down her back. The feeling of fire in her belly.
Her first kiss.
Then the
laughing, the pointing. Nate’s denial.
I didn’t want to kiss her. She threw herself at me. Why would I want to kiss her? She’s gross.
The past socked her in the chest and for a second, it stole her breath. No matter how tempting Nate Ritter might be, she would never forget that betrayal.
Chapter 3
“We should head to lunch so I can get back to Dad as quickly as possible.” Shelby pushed up from the bench and hitched her bag higher up her shoulder.
Nate had been about to dredge up the past, about to apologise and ask her forgiveness for being a rotten friend when they were younger. But he’d stopped at the last minute, worried about rushing into it. Worried that he was forcing his way toward his end goal like a battering ram.
Just like the ex used to say, you’ve got all the finesse of a bull in mating season.
“Is everything okay?” he asked.
She started up the path and he caught up to her, easily matching her long, purposeful strides. “I’m fine.”
“I know fine is a code word for anything but. I’ve been married, remember?” he joked.
The edge of her lip twitched, but it didn’t blossom into a full smile. “Well I haven’t, so I’m not up on marital subtext. If I say something, I mean it.”
Nate hovered close to her as they retraced their steps. “You don’t have to come to lunch. I invited you because I know your dad doesn’t want to feel like he’s keeping you prisoner, but you’re under no obligation to me. It’s just that we used to be friends and…”
The words stalled, the possibility of rejection tongue-tying him in a way he hadn’t experienced in years. Decades.
“I wish things had ended differently. I wish I’d been different back then.”
Her eyes were hidden behind the dark lenses of her sunglasses, so it was impossible to tell what she was thinking. “We don’t have to go over the past, Nate. You don’t owe me anything.”
“Yes, I do.” He’d owed her friendship back then and he’d behaved like a coward. At the very minimum, he owed her the truth. “If I could take it back, I would.”
She sighed. “That’s not how it works.”
I’ve changed.
The words were important to him. He had changed. Back then, he’d been a young kid trying desperately to fit into his new stepmother’s home. Trying to make sure she loved him. Trying to prevent his dad from leaving like Nate’s mother had. That meant doing everything right, making sure everyone liked him. Not rocking the boat.
He knew now that he’d set himself an impossible task, and that failure had been the only possible outcome. It was impossible to please everyone, and he’d chosen to please the wrong people.
“I know,” he said, bobbing his head. “But I had to say something because I couldn’t act like nothing had happened between us. I owe you an apology.”
“Well, I don’t need it.” Shelby’s long, dark hair rustled with the ocean breeze. “How about lunch, instead?”
He knew when to stop pushing a subject. Less than ten minutes later—five of which involved the mayhem of trying to navigate tourist season in the car park—they walked into Patterson’s Bluff’s Italian restaurant, Bruno’s. The place was small, but always had people sitting at its tables. Today was no exception.
“Mr. Ritter, nice to see you.” Isabella Marino approached them with a warm smile and plucked two menus from the pile at the end of the bar.
“You can call me Nate, Izzy. We’re not in school right now.”
She shook her head. “Nah, that’s weird. You’ll always be Mr. Ritter to me.”
He sighed and shot Shelby a look, which caused her to stifle a smile. “This is Shelby Jenkins. She’s a Patterson’s Bluff native from way back. Her dad is Principal Jenkins.”
“Oh, right.” Isabella beamed. “You’re a model, aren’t you?”
Shelby nodded. “I certainly am.”
“You must be the only model who ever came from Patterson’s Bluff.” She motioned for them to follow her to a table. “What an exciting job! I bet you get to travel all around the world. Have you been to Paris?”
“I do some travel and I’ve been to Paris a few times.” She smiled. “But most of my work has been in New York, recently.”
“Wow.” Isabella set the menus on the table. “Do you find it boring here? I bet it’s, like, the most boring place in the whole world compared to New York.”
She said New York with such reverence they could have been talking about some far-off magical land, not a mere city that was steel and concrete like every other city.
Shelby laughed. “It’s great, but it’s no better than here. It’s just…different. I like them both for separate reasons.”
Isabella raised an eyebrow. “What could you possibly find exciting about Patterson’s Bluff?”
“It’s not exciting, but that’s exactly why I like it. New York is always busy and loud. Sometimes it’s nice to be in a place that’s peaceful and slow.” She shot the girl a knowing grin. “But then the shopping in New York is the best in the world.”
“You’re so lucky.” Isabella looked down at the menus and sighed. “Can I start you off with anything to drink?”
“A cappuccino would be lovely.”
“I’ll have a latte.” Nate opened the menu in front of him.
“I’ve so missed the coffee here.” Shelby sighed with an air of drama as Isabella left their table. “It’s definitely not the same in the US. Too much syrup and whipped cream. Ugh. That’s the Starbucks influence.”
Nate shook his head. “I don’t understand why people would pay so much for a coffee because the cup has a green logo on it.”
“You never know, they might open one up here.” There was a teasing tone to her voice, like she knew exactly what to say to bait him.
To say Nate had feelings about chain stores infiltrating his town, slowly edging out the ma and pa businesses he loved to support, would be an understatement. Sure, it made him sound like an old man yelling at people to get off his lawn, but it was the truth. And frankly, in his mind, more people needed to support the little guys.
“Could you imagine the headlines? Corporate America tries to strong arm the Aussie battlers,” he said in his best news reporter voice. “No one would let that happen. The locals would protest until they were blue in the face.”
“There’s already a Subway and McDonald’s here,” she said with a shrug. “And all the big global stores are popping up in Melbourne now. It’s a sign of the times.”
“And what happens to people like Izzy, huh? Her aunt owns this place, but they can’t compete with big business.” He frowned. “Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten what it’s like to make a life here.”
He didn’t hate big cities. But people from places like Melbourne and Sydney and New York didn’t understand what it meant to be part of a tight-knit community. Nate knew his neighbours, he cheered them on and shopped in their businesses. His role in Patterson’s Bluff—like being a member of a giant extended family—was worth everything to him. The idea that Shelby seemed so nonchalant about it rankled.
If she didn’t care about that, that would put her squarely in the same category as his ex-wife.
Shelby raised a brow. “I know where I come from, thank you very much. But I also don’t feel the need to take sides.”
Nate bit back his response. The past had coloured his view on cities. He’d lost multiple people to lure of a life worth “more” than what Patterson’s Bluff had to offer. Which he couldn’t understand, because Patterson’s Bluff had given him everything—stability, a family home, friends. He’d never had that when he’d lived in Sydney.
The conversation was put on pause as Isabella arrived with their coffees, and spent a few minutes fawning over Shelby before taking their lunch orders and scurrying away with a grin on her youthful face.
“Are you really one of those people who think that cities are evil, soulless places filled with corporate greed?” Shelby asked, once they were
alone again.
“That’s a little extreme, but I definitely prefer life here. I like life in the slow lane. If that makes me a hick, so be it.”
“You’re not a hick.” She wrapped her hands around her coffee cup and sipped, making a happy sound. “I don’t understand the rivalry, though. Both places have their advantages and their disadvantages. I like being able to get a burger at three in the morning if I so choose. But I also like total quiet at night.”
“Folks here care about one another. You don’t get that in a place with a few million people in it.”
“This place isn’t perfect either,” she reminded him.
Shelby admired Nate’s dedication to Patterson’s Bluff—and honestly, knowing her father was surrounded by people who cared about this place as much as he did made her happy. But she couldn’t exactly view it as a slice of paradise, either. Sure, in New York your anonymity could be overwhelming. But she’d craved exactly that when she left Australia—a new beginning. A fresh start and a chance to forge a new reputation. For that, she would be eternally grateful.
In many ways, New York had saved her.
Their food arrived and Shelby stared at the pile of penne pasta with hearty lamb sauce. At one point in her life she would never have ordered such a big dish when dining out, because eating in front of others had made her self-conscious.
That was before she’d grown more comfortable in her skin, before she’d learned to love her body for what it allowed her to do. For the opportunities that came with her career. But she was worried about regressing at home, worried about the doubt demons breaking through the years of hard work she’d put into loving herself.
She drove her fork into a piece of the slow-cooked lamb and popped it into her mouth. The rich flavour made her taste buds sing.
There’s no shame in enjoying food. There’s no shame in enjoying food.
“How’s your sister?” Shelby asked, grappling for a topic that wasn’t filled with conflict.
