Real Men Don't Break Hearts

by Coleen Kwan

  “Nate Hardy? Oh yeah, I’ve heard of him. Was a teenage delinquent, right? What’s he got to do with Seth?”

  “Seth always had a bit of a hero worship thing going there.” Scowling, Ally began to stack the soap on the counter. “Don’t ask me why. Seth never got into trouble the way Nate did. But when Nate started making it big in Sydney, Seth idolized him even more. And Nate and I never got along.”

  Her frown deepened as she remembered how Nate had always riled her back when she was dating Seth. He was handsome as sin and already making lots of money doing something in finance. By all accounts he led a hedonistic life in Sydney—fast cars, glamorous women, penthouse apartments—a life she thought was shallow, materialistic, unenviable. Each time they’d met, which was as little as possible if she could help it, he had a way of looking at her that told her he knew exactly what she was thinking, a look that made her all too aware of her shortcomings. In his brazen eyes she’d seen an unflattering reflection of herself—unsophisticated, fuddy-duddy, countrified—and no doubt Seth had started seeing her in that light, too.

  Once, when she’d found herself unavoidably alone with Nate, he’d asked her why she was with Seth. His breathtaking insolence had made her flush with anger, and she’d retorted it was none of his damn business before stalking off. She hadn’t told Seth about his cousin’s meddling, didn’t want to lend any credence to Nate’s insufferable audacity, and besides, Seth had a huge blind spot where Nate was concerned.

  “Seth didn’t have the guts to tell me to my face the wedding was off, so he sent Nate instead.” The soap wrappers crinkled under the pressure of her fingers. She’d been sitting in the vestry with her nana and sister, wondering where Seth was, worrying he’d had an accident, when Nate had walked in without knocking. He’d tried to sound sympathetic and angry at Seth, but deep down she knew he was gloating. He didn’t like her, and he didn’t believe in marriage. He wanted Seth to be free and easy just like him, and he’d succeeded. “Oh, Nate had no problem telling me. I was so mad at him, I slapped him across the face. Twice.”

  “You did? Good for you.”

  And then she’d dissolved into a wet puddle of tears and tulle, the final humiliation in front of Nate, who’d still managed to look triumphant despite the red marks on his cheeks left by her stinging hand.

  “Nate didn’t care. He’s never cared. He treated this place like his personal garbage can, and he infected Seth with his poison.” After the failed wedding, Seth had gone to Sydney, where Nate had helped him get into stockbroking. Nate was responsible for a lot.

  Tyler made a moue with her poppy red lips. “Hell, I’m sorry to be the bearer of such bad news.”

  Ally’s spine stiffened. “Listen, I don’t want you treating me like a victim. I’m perfectly fine.”

  “Oh, sure.” But Tyler didn’t look convinced.

  “I mean it, Tyler. I don’t want you thinking I’m still hung up on Seth. I’m not.”

  Her friend nodded vigorously. “I hear you loud and clear. Who wants to get hung up on a man? As far as I’m concerned, men are good for just one thing, and it ain’t killing spiders.”

  “I wouldn’t go that far.”

  “Oh, you should.” Tyler tossed back her hair. “Take it from me, there’s no such thing as Mr. Perfect. Just a lot of Mr. Fun-for-nows.”

  Ally frowned. She was single, too, but unlike Tyler, she did want to fall in love and marry the man of her dreams. “I’m not like you. I can’t make men keel over with lust.”

  “How do you know when you’ve never tried?”

  “Well, I guess I don’t, but right now I have more important things to worry about.”

  “Okay. Well, you won’t hear a word about the wedding from me.” Tyler made a zipping motion across her mouth.

  “Hey, I just told you not to treat me with kid gloves. I don’t like the idea of the wedding happening in my own backyard, but business is business, and I need the money.”

  The Southern Highlands had always been a haven for the rich. A hundred years ago it had been wealthy merchants who carved out their pockets of English countryside in the Australian bush. Now, it was well-heeled bankers and advertising gurus who fancied a country estate complete with manor, stables, and tennis court. But just like a century ago, a strict divide separated the wealthy “haves” from the everyday “have-nots.”

  Yet somehow Seth had managed to infiltrate the rarefied stratosphere: he was going to marry Paige Kerrigan. Who was this woman, anyway? Someone who rode horses, Ally decided. A tall, athletic woman with a carrying voice. Blond, probably, with pearls and diamonds and linen shirts that never creased. On her wedding day she would wear Vera Wang and Chanel No. 5. Where would they marry? At St. Bridget’s, where she had waited in vain for Seth?

  An unexpected spasm rippled through her. She turned around, her hip jarring the counter, and the pile of soap slithered to the ground once more.

  “Not again!” She dropped to her knees.

  The shop door jingled. “Good afternoon, ladies.” Mr. Cummings’s florid voice floated over the top of Ally’s head.

  “Hi, Mr. Cummings,” Ally said, still on all fours as she reached for a bar of soap lodged beneath a postcard stand. “I’ll be with you in a moment.”

  “I’ve brought someone to meet you, Ally.”

  As Ally struggled with the caught piece of soap, a pair of men’s shoes appeared in front of her. Crocodile, hand tooled, expensive. Definitely not Mr. Cummings’s shoes. They were attached to trousers—finest wool, elegantly tailored, citified. Still on her knees, Ally straightened her back and found herself eye level with a slim pair of hips and a thin leather belt cinched around a taut waistline. Her gaze flew upward, past the crisp cotton shirt, silk tie, flawless jacket, and finally clashed with a pair of simmering brandy eyes. Eyes she could never forget.

  Nate Hardy. In Burronga. In her shop.

  And here she was kneeling in front of him like a penitent, her face practically in his crotch.

  Chapter Two

  Ally shot to her feet, the soap bars scattering to the floor yet again. “Blast!”

  “Here, let me get those for you.” Nate dropped to his knees, and now their positions were reversed. His head of thick, dark hair hovered so close to her legs she could almost feel his breath on her bare skin. She stood stock still, wishing she’d worn stockings to cover her winter-pale legs, wishing she’d put on a nicer pair of shoes, wondering why she cared at all about how she appeared to Nate. Nate Hardy, of all people. What on earth was he doing in her shop? Today of all days, when she’d just learned about Seth’s impending marriage. Was he really such an insensitive brute?

  “Where d’you want these?” Nate stood, his hands filled with soaps, a curiously tentative expression crinkling his face.

  Still too flabbergasted to speak, she gestured toward the counter behind her. He tipped the soaps onto the wooden top and brushed his hands.

  Mr. Cummings spoke. “You remember Nate Hardy, don’t you?”

  Beside her, Tyler let out a low whistle. “Speak of the devil!” she muttered.

  Speak of the devil indeed. It was as if she and Tyler talking about Nate had conjured him out of thin air, like a magic spell gone horribly wrong. If only she could snap her fingers and make him disappear in a puff of smoke.

  “Nate Hardy?” She cleared her throat and set her tone to freezing. “Ye-es…” She pretended to rack her memory. “Weren’t you arrested a few years back? Was it disorderly conduct or something like that?”

  His brandy eyes snapped at her, but his voice remained cucumber cool. “Something like that.”

  Mr. Cummings had gone pink to the top of his shining dome. “Um, I have some news for you, Ally.”

  She turned to him, regretting the embarrassment she’d caused him. Besides being her landlord, he was a friendly, unassuming man, and he seemed agog with some important information.

  “I’m moving to Queensland.” He bounced on his heels several times. “I’ve sold t
he building just this afternoon. Ally, say hello to your new landlord, Nate.” With a flourish he presented Nate like a magician pulling a rabbit from a hat.

  “My new…” Air squeezed out of Ally’s lungs as she felt her eyes goggling. Beside her, she heard Tyler taking in a sharp breath.

  “Landlord,” Nate finished for her.

  Her new landlord. Oh God, this could not be happening.

  “You…you bought this building?” She pointed to the floor. “This building?”

  “Yep.” A look of satisfaction spread across his nauseatingly handsome features.

  “When?”

  “About twenty minutes ago.”

  Twenty minutes? She shook her head. “I don’t understand.” She turned to Mr. Cummings. “You told me not to worry. You told me it would take a while to find a buyer.”

  “That’s what I thought.” The old man laughed and patted his protruding belly. “But then this afternoon I met Nate here over at the Red Possum, and we got to chatting, and I told him I was looking to sell and retire. Well, half an hour later we shook on the deal, and here we are. Isn’t it capital? Heh-heh.”

  Capital? To Mr. Cummings, everything was capital. At his satisfied chuckle, an impotent frustration boiled up in Ally’s veins. He had no idea what he was doing to her. All he saw ahead of him was endless days of sunshine and fishing. He couldn’t imagine the mess he’d inadvertently tipped her into.

  “Er, Mr. Cummings, could I have a word with you in private?”

  “Well…” He shot an apologetic glance at Nate before turning back to her. “Certainly, m’dear.”

  Ally ushered him into the cramped storeroom at the back of the shop. “Sir, are you sure you know what you’re doing, getting involved with Nate Hardy?” she asked as soon as she’d shut the door behind them. “You must be aware of his reputation—petty theft, vandalism, brawling. If you don’t mind my saying so, you shouldn’t be doing business with him.”

  His smile faded as he pursed his lips. “Now, I may look comical, but I’m no fool when it comes to money, Ally.”

  Oh, dear. She liked Mr. Cummings. A few years back, his wife, two decades his junior, had run off with her lover, and in the subsequent divorce the woman had gouged Mr. Cummings of half his assets. After all that, he deserved some good luck.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to offend you, but you must admit it sounds dubious that a man you bumped into at the pub wants to buy your property.”

  “You’re right, but Nate isn’t a stranger. Yes, he had a troubled youth, but I know of his business reputation. He’s a successful investment manager for a reputable finance company. Has been for a number of years. I’m pretty sure he’s not trying to scam me, and besides, I’ll have my lawyers double-check the contract every step of the way.” He gave her shoulder an avuncular pat. “I know you’re just looking out for me, but believe me—you have nothing to worry about.”

  Sure, and the tooth fairy is real, too.

  “But why does he want to buy this building anyway? He lives in Sydney. He hardly ever comes down to Burronga.”

  “He’s looking for a good investment property; that’s what he said.”

  That made no sense to Ally. The rent she paid for the shop and the upstairs flat was hardly spectacular. For all its old-world charm, the building was in constant need of repairs, and the rooms were awkwardly sized and inconveniently positioned. Hardly a prime choice for a savvy investor.

  And what about the outstanding rent she still owed Mr. Cummings? The worm in the pit of her stomach reared its ugly head again. The building might have potential, but she was hardly an ideal tenant. And knowing what Nate thought of her, he wouldn’t need much excuse to boot her out. She’d lose the shop and her home.

  Ally gulped down the rising nausea. “About the rent I owe you…”

  “I know you’re good for it, and I told Nate, too.”

  “You told Nate…” The bile bit the back of her throat again. Oh God, things couldn’t get any worse.

  “It didn’t seem to trouble him.” His face brightened as if he’d been struck by a brilliant idea. “Why, he might be able to give you some business advice on how to run the shop.”

  Business advice! She’d sooner trust a rattlesnake.

  Mr. Cummings gave her an encouraging smile as he opened the door of the store room. “Now I know you and Nate are going to get along fine, just fine.”

  Like Tom and Jerry. Like oil and water. Yes, just fine.

  Still dazed, she allowed him to usher her back into the main shop. Nate was resting against the counter watching Tyler as she re-stacked the lavender soap. Ally’s eyes slitted as she took in the closing gap between Nate’s and Tyler’s heads and the nonchalant ease of Nate’s figure as he leaned against the counter, one thumb hooked into his belt.

  Bloody hell! Nate just couldn’t help himself. Ally marched across the shop, clomping her heels on the wooden floorboards, and Tyler sprang back. “Have to dash off and pick up Chloe.” Grabbing her shoulder bag, Tyler hoofed it out of the shop.

  Nate straightened up, slipping his hands into his trouser pockets. “Everything okay?” he said to Ally and Mr. Cummings.

  “Oh, everything’s capital. Ally just had a few concerns,” Mr. Cummings answered breezily. “But I’ve set her mind at ease, haven’t I?” He rubbed his hands together and started bouncing on his heels again. “I’d better be off and have a word with my lawyer before he clocks out for the weekend. I’ll see you two later.” With an exaggerated bow to them, he exited the shop.

  Ally sucked in a deep breath and turned to Nate. Okay. They were alone now. No need for any pretense; they could speak their minds. But instead of speaking, he strolled around the shop, inspecting the goods, moving with the animal grace she couldn’t help remembering. The cut of his suit highlighted his superb physique, the charcoal gray accentuating his olive coloring. Even though she despised him, she had to admit he looked as handsome and alluring as ever. Alluring but bad for her, like cinnamon doughnuts.

  She frisked her upper arms, annoyed at how he still got to her, no matter how much she resisted.

  He stopped in front of a rack of hand-knitted Angora sweaters. “Wow. Who buys this…stuff?”

  Hmm. She was sure he’d meant to say, Who buys this crap, before he’d corrected himself.

  She answered stiffly, “You’d be surprised.” And so would she. The Angora sweaters had been languishing in her shop for ages. Privately she detested the twee knitwear, but the woman who made them was an old friend of her nana’s, and Ally would never hear the end of it if she dropped the Angoras.

  He moved on to the glass cabinet housing Tyler’s eye-catching jewelry. “Now this I like. You should sell more of this stuff.”

  She scowled at him. Who did he think he was, waltzing about like he owned the place? Hang on. He would own the place soon…

  “I can’t believe you bought this building half an hour after you ran into Mr. Cummings. It sounds too irrational to be true.”

  “But isn’t that the kind of crazy thing you expect from me?” A mocking smile flitted over his lips.

  “I expect a lot of crazy things from you, but not buying a property sight unseen. Why, you haven’t even had a pest inspection done. There might be termites under the floor.”

  “Are there termites under the floor?”

  “Not as far as I know…”

  “Looks like I’m safe, then.”

  “But—” She shook her head, perplexed. “But why buy any building here in Burronga? It’s not as if you live here anymore.”

  “I do still have a house here.” His expression grew a little cagey.

  She remembered the house. Nate had gone to live with his older brother Robbie after some arguments with his stepfather, according to Seth. A few times she’d picked up Seth from his cousins’ house but had never ventured inside. Robbie had been a rough and ready kind of bloke. He’d roared around in his souped-up truck, his muscled biceps hanging out the window, swaggering
and obnoxious but mysteriously attractive to countless girls. And Nate had been no better.

  She tipped up her chin and sent him an insolent glare. “So, what, you’re going to move back here or something?”

  He couldn’t miss the meaning in her look. He jutted his jaw back at her. “You have a problem with that?”

  Callous brute. He still couldn’t resist tormenting her. She felt like picking up one of those lavender soaps and hurling it at his stupid head. Wasn’t it enough to learn Seth was getting married right here in her hometown without Nate barging into her shop and stirring the memories even further? Didn’t he know he’d picked the worst time to announce he was thrusting himself into her life? Or maybe he did know, and he just enjoyed rubbing her nose in it. He knew about Seth and Paige, and he’d deliberately come here to watch her squirm. Well, to hell with him. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. Not by a blink of an eyelash would she betray what she knew about Seth’s upcoming marriage.

  “How much time do you have?” she retorted.

  He blinked, straightened up. “You really can’t stand me, can you?”

  She gave a brief laugh. “You don’t say.” Her temples had started to ache again. Moving behind the counter, she began to slam the soap bars into order. Bam, bam! She whacked them into a topsy-turvy stack.

  “Are you still mad at me about Seth?”

  “That’s one way of putting it.”

  “I’m sorry about what happened at your wedding,” Nate said, much closer.

  She hadn’t heard him approaching, but his sober tone made the back of her neck prickle. She searched his eyes for a hint of insincerity and found none.

  Nate drummed his fingers on the counter, the tattoo loud in the sudden silence. “I should have found Seth and dragged him to the church and made him explain himself to you face-to-face,” Nate continued, “not cower in some bar miles away.”

  Her head snapped up. “Oh. So you’re just sorry for the way Seth jilted me, not for the fact that he did jilt me.”