Hometown Hope: A Small Town Romance Anthology
Page 243
“It was tough enough being a teen without social media.” Angie’s heart-shaped face darkened. “I don’t know how I would have survived those years with that extra scrutiny.”
Shelby decided then that she liked Angie. The woman shared a passion close to her heart and something told her that she’d understand the pain of Shelby’s past. “Tell me about it.”
“You know,” Angie continued. “I understand this is probably very forward of me since we only just met, but I would love it if you came and spoke to the residents at the retirement home. I’m organising a bunch of classes for them on all different topics. I mean, I know they’re probably not your normal audience, but they’re so curious about what their grandkids get up to on their phones. If you ever come back—”
“I’d love to.”
Angie’s eyes sparkled. “That would be wonderful. Do you come home often?”
Shelby drove the hoe back into the dirt. “Not often enough.”
By the end of the day the school had been pruned, planted and polished until it shone like a beacon. Nate had been so happy to watch Angie and Shelby get acquainted. He knew they would get on famously. The American woman had come to Patterson’s Bluff several months back, and she’d already entrenched herself in the community with her volunteer work and friendly demeanour.
Perhaps Angie would make Shelby see that this place wasn’t as bad as she believed.
“Nate, how’s it going?” Jerome Wagstaff walked up beside him, dirt smudged on his T-shirt and jeans.
Nate tried not to cringe. Jerome was…how did one put it delicately? A bit of a dickhead. He was a total “boy’s club” kinda guy, someone who liked to drink and smoke and get into arguments. Occasionally, those arguments involved fists. He was definitely not the best that Patterson’s Bluff had to offer.
In fact, he was someone Nate actively avoided. However, given he was the nephew of the former Mayor of Mornington Peninsula Shire—and part of a family that donated a lot of money to town activities—the townsfolk generally tried not to ruffle his feathers, even when they most definitely needed ruffling.
“Good to see you,” Nate lied. “It’s been a productive day.”
“Looks like it. I didn’t know we were bringing dates to the working bee, though.” He dug his elbow into Nate’s ribs and Nate resisted the urge to ball his fists.
“No idea what you’re talking about,” he said in a breezy tone.
“The chick.” He nodded toward Shelby. “Though I usually end up with one like her after a few beers and not before.”
Nate’s blood boiled and he felt a white-hot wave of anger rush through him. “Excuse me?”
“Ah, don’t take it personally. Some guys like ‘em like that, with extra padding.” Jerome chuckled to himself. “Just don’t let her go on top, she might crush you to death.”
“Mate,” Nate said in a way that showed he felt Jerome was anything but a friend. “You’d be lucky if a woman half as decent as Shelby even looked in your direction. Now, how about you take your dated, bullshit views and shove them up your—”
“Nate.” Cam had appeared beside him and planted a hand on his shoulder, squeezing hard. “Everything okay here?”
“Some people don’t know when to shut their bloody mouths,” Nate replied.
Jerome looked like he was ready to take a swing, but Cam quickly diffused the situation and the man walked off, muttering something about going to the pub.
“You alright?” Cam asked.
Nate nodded. “Yeah, thanks for stepping in.”
“I shouldn’t have needed to.” Cam raked a hand through his hair and let out a breath. “I hate that guy so much. If it wasn’t for—”
“Yeah, yeah. I know.”
But it was a window into Shelby’s experience—that even by doing nothing more than being herself, by helping, she drew ire because she wasn’t thin. Because she didn’t fit some magical box that society had drawn out for her. Never mind that she was a good person. Never mind that she wanted to help others. Never mind that she was beautiful, inside and out.
Never mind that she deserved respect.
It made him angry…and that made him feel guilty. He’d contributed to her pain once. Contributed to her feeling like she didn’t fit in and wasn’t wanted. And it wasn’t true, she was wanted.
Very much.
“I’ll word up Dawn. If he starts mouthing off at the White Crest they’ll need to boot him out.” Cam shook his head. “I won’t have him ruining what should be a great day for everyone.”
Typical Cam. Even though it wasn’t his school, or his responsibility, he was ready to step up and make sure everyone was okay. “Thanks.”
“See you at the pub?”
“Yeah, in a bit.”
Nate rolled his shoulders as he surveyed the last remaining volunteers leaving the school grounds, including Cam and some of his other buddies. But Nate wasn’t quite ready to leave, and an idea had been slowly percolating in the back of his mind all afternoon.
“What are we waiting for?” Shelby asked, coming up beside him.
She had a smudge of dirt across her cheek. Her nose was pink from hours spent in the sunshine and it made the dusting of freckles across her nose stand out even more. At the start of the day her hair had looked soft and curly, but now it was piled on top of her head, a few tendrils escaping to frame her face so that she looked effortlessly beautiful.
Damn.
He was transported to being fifteen again, standing with Shelby after school while they waited for her dad to come out of his meeting and take her home. She’d always looked so cute in her blue and white checked uniform dress with knee-high socks and a ribbon securing her ponytail. Nate had been working up to kiss her for weeks because he had to know if she tasted like honey, since she smelled so sweet.
“Nate?” Her brow creased.
He shook his head, trying to dislodge the memories. “We’re waiting for everyone else to leave.”
“We are?”
“Yeah. I’m taking you on a tour.” The idea had come to him as they’d worked, inspired by the sound of Shelby chatting to Angie.
Making plans…making a friend.
This high school was at the heart of her bad memories. He’d seen her physically clench up when they arrived that morning. Then it had hit him. If he took her around the school, she could see it for what it was…bricks and mortar. Not a place of nightmares. Just a building. Boring. Sturdy. Unable to hurt her.
“You’re giving me a tour of what…the school?” She pulled the sunglasses from her face and cleaned the lens with the hem of her T-shirt, before sliding them on top of her head. “Why? I know exactly what this place looks like.”
“It’s been a long time. I thought you might want to see how it’s changed.” He saw Janet Brown leaving out of the corner of his eye, flashing him a thumbs-up.
He’d convinced her to lend him the office key on the proviso that he’d share the gossip with her come the next curriculum meeting. There was no chance of that happening. But better to ask forgiveness, in his opinion.
“I thought you wanted to take me for a drink?” Shelby’s lips curved into a smile, and her voice was soft. Was it his imagination or was there a hint of…hopefulness?
“I do. But indulge me first.” He held out his hand and she hesitated before taking it. “I want to at least show you my classroom.”
The feel of her palm against his, her grip strong like she was warning him not to underestimate her, lit a fire in him. They left the administration office and took the path to the main building. The late afternoon was quiet, and the breeze rustled through the trees towering overhead.
“So you met Angie Donovan, huh?”
“Yeah, she invited me to speak with the people at the retirement home.”
“I guess that means you’ll have to come back.” He couldn’t keep the pleasure out of his voice.
The corner of her lips lifted. “I guess it does.”
“Good
.”
She turned to him as they paused in front of the main building. “And why is that good?”
“Because that means I get to see you again.” He toyed with the keys, making them jingle.
“I never said I’d come to visit you.” She tried to keep a straight face, but she couldn’t hold onto it. “That’s very presumptuous.”
“I’ll know if you’re here.”
“How?”
“Little birds will tell me.”
Shelby rolled her eyes. “There are too many little birds in this town. That’s part of the problem.”
“What do you tell your students to do if someone is gossiping about them?”
“I tell them to ignore it, because gossip doesn’t mean anything and responding only feeds the beast,” she replied. “But you knew that’s what I’d say.”
“Why do you worry then?”
“I don’t…usually. It never bothers me at home and people post mean things on the internet all the time. Fat girls aren’t real models,” she mimicked. “And I don’t care. Really. But coming back here makes me feel like an insecure teenager all over again.”
“You don’t look like a teenager,” he teased.
“What are you trying to say, huh?” Her eyes glinted with mischief. “Are you calling me old?”
“I’m saying you don’t have anything to worry about. It doesn’t matter what people do. We both know you’re the one who has come out on top.”
“You don’t know me, Nate.” Her breath hitched. “Not anymore.”
“Bullshit.”
“You don’t know me.”
There were a great many things Nate didn’t know in life—women were generally a mystery to him. He was totally and wilfully oblivious to the politics that ran Patterson’s Bluff. And he still hadn’t figured out how use his new MacBook properly.
But he knew one thing for certain.
“You’re the same girl I fell for back then.” The sweetness of perfume and perspiration on her skin set off fireworks in his brain. He reached for her hand and tugged her closer, desperate to feel the warmth of her against him. “I know you’re sexy as hell and I’d be a damn fool if I didn’t want to kiss you right now.”
Her breasts pressed against him. He wouldn’t have to dip his head far because she was right there. Tempting. Taunting. Lush lips parted as her breath rasped in and out, the blacks of her pupils expanding.
“You’ve done foolish things before,” she whispered.
He closed his eyes for a moment. “Shel, you know if I could take it back…”
For a moment, he was sure she’d push him away. She should. But they always had this magnetic connection drawing them together. They’d gravitated toward one another after every class, during lunch. After school. Sitting together, knees touching in the library, fingers brushing as they worked.
He still felt it and something told him that she did, too.
“I’m not perfect, lord knows,” he said. “But I’ve done what I can to change and be a good person.”
“I know.”
He swallowed. “You do?”
“I wouldn’t be here now if I didn’t see it for myself.” Her hands smoothed up his arms. “I can’t forget what happened, but I will let you kiss me.”
He needed no more invitation. Sliding his hands up her back, he lowered his mouth to hers. Soft lips met him, open and willing. The tentative slide of her tongue jacked his pulse up and sent blood rushing in his ears.
It was everything he’d wanted then. And everything he wanted now.
Shelby gripped his T-shirt, holding him close as she breathed into him. He roamed her, mapping the highs and lows of her body and finding delight in her rounded hips and the dip at her waist, then lower. He kneaded her backside, his hands greedy and determined to have their fill of her luscious curves.
All the blood in his body rushed south as she arched against him.
If she’d had doubts about his attraction to her, she would know for certain how he felt now. His cock ached, each bump of her hips stoking the fire in him. There was no way he could fake that reaction. No way in hell.
He pinned her against the locked door. Her legs parted slightly, allowing him space to press his thigh forward. Humming in pleasure, her head lolled back and exposed the delicious length of her neck. Strands of dark hair blew around her face, her messy bun barely holding on.
“You’re a dangerous man, Nate Ritter,” she said, looking up at him.
He traced the edge of her lip, dipping his head to taste her again. This time the kiss was slower, more exploratory. He wanted to savour every second of it. “Why’s that?”
She smoothed her hands up to his jaw, holding him in place. “Because you make me forget why I stopped coming here.”
The sincerity in her voice tightened his chest. Was she afraid he’d turn on her? That he’d be ashamed if someone caught them? Someone like Jerome. He could see something familiar and wary simmering in the depths of her eyes.
He didn’t want to ruin this by pushing too far or too fast. Capturing her hand in his, he brought her fingertips to his mouth and kissed them. “Still want the tour?”
“I do.”
She wriggled out from between him and the door so he could unlock it. Pink coloured the high points of her cheeks, her lips puffy and kissable. Botticelli couldn’t have painted her better than she looked right then.
He jammed the key into the lock and turned, hoping to hell she didn’t notice how affected he was. Since his divorce, he’d slept with a few women in quick succession before Pete had pulled him aside and told him he needed to watch his reputation. But his friend’s talk hadn’t been necessary, in the end. Nate lost interest in dating. In sex.
He’d lost interest in meaningless physical connections because as attractive and sweet as the women had been, there was no spark. No chemistry. Nothing…real. None of them made him feel the way Shelby did.
And knowing that she would be out of here as quickly as possible, would be like opening up that old wound all over again.
Chapter 7
“It looks exactly the same,” Shelby said as they stepped inside.
Being at her old high school was like taking a time machine back to a dark place. Shelby could practically smell the clouds of Impulse body spray and the oversweet snap of spearmint chewing gum. The sound of lockers slamming, people laughing, and the stampede of teenage feet rang in her ears as if she’d heard it only moments ago.
The classrooms branched off in neat pairs down the length of the hallway. Lockers lined both sides and brightly coloured letters stuck to the wall welcomed the new year. The faint smell of cleaning product and rubbing alcohol wafted in the air.
She trailed her hands across the locker doors as they walked. Cold, harsh metal. Her fingertips found a dent. The corner of one door stuck out so it wouldn’t close properly. Only a combination lock held it in place, but it would be easy enough to slip a cruel note inside.
Was the owner of this locker like her? Had he or she had their books strewn across the hallway? Had they been surrounded here, terrified of the circle closing in?
She swallowed hard.
“Why did you bring me here?” she asked, the confidence leaving her body as if an invisible force had stuck a needle in her arm and sucked it all out.
“I wanted to show you where I work.” He brushed a lock of chestnut hair from his eyes as if trying to look casual, but the twitch in his jaw told the truth. “And maybe I thought bringing you here might help you—”
“Get over it?”
“Move forward,” he corrected.
They paused at a classroom door, the windowpane giving her a preview of what she already knew was there. Rows of desks with old fashioned wooden tops, many of which wore the carvings of bored students from years ago. The staff tried to clean them up by removing the ink, but the etching remained behind. Bruises on the tender skin of the school’s soul…like the emotional bruises she’d endured back then.
Nate opened the door. Dim sunlight filtered in through the windows and the desks stared back at her. Identical. Faceless.
She walked to the farthest row, trailing her fingertips over the top of each desk as she went. For any class that didn’t have assigned seating, she’d always tried to arrive early and get a spot on the other side of the room, closest to the window. Preferably first or second row. That way if she got called to the front she could minimise how many students she’d have to walk past, thereby lessening the chance of ridicule if she accidentally bumped someone.
“What’s going on up there?” Nate asked.
He leaned against his desk, legs crossed at the ankle and hands curled around the wood. It was hard not to remember how she’d gone weak at the knees when he’d shoved her against the door and kissed her in a way that was soul-soothingly primal.
Dammit. She didn’t want to be attracted to Nate. It went against everything she believed in.
But he’d turned into the man she’d always wanted—empathetic, kind, community-minded. All wrapped up in a package more appealing than her aunt’s famous boozy chocolate cake.
Probably just as bad for you.
“I’m remembering,” she replied, coming up to his desk and allowing herself to be curious. After all, he’d brought her here so she might as well see what his surroundings told her.
The desk was meticulously clean, which surprised her. He had a black coffee mug with Keep Calm and Pretend It’s on the Lesson Plan written in white text alongside a small stack of old trigonometry books and a T-Rex stress ball. That was it. No photos, nothing overly personal.
“I wouldn’t have picked you for the minimalist type,” she said, grabbing the squishy dinosaur and squeezing it in her hand.
“I like to keep things organised.” He shrugged. “Besides, I only keep out stuff that doesn’t matter if it goes missing.”
“What about the textbooks?”
He laughed. “They’re mine from when I was a student. They remind me why I wanted to become a teacher…and there’s no chance a kid’s going to steal my textbook when they hate the one they already own.”