by Jessica Kate
Natalie flicked a glance at Jem as he parked at home and shut off the car. Was she going to have to ask the obvious?
No, he was Lili’s uncle. She kept her mouth shut.
Jem stayed silent as he got Olly out of the car. He had the baby out and diaper bag in hand when Lili’s car door slammed.
“I caught Dad smoking, okay?”
Natalie, standing on the other side of the car, snapped her head around. Mike? Smoking? No way.
Jem’s expression stayed neutral. “Okay.”
“Well, not actually smoking. But I found his cigarettes. And lighter. He’d lied about having them.” Lili opened her mouth, shut it. Gave her head a little shake. “It freaked me out. I’ve seen all those ads about lung disease. So I had one to show him. The same amount that he’s worried about me, I’m worried about him.”
Natalie leaned against the car, looking over the roof at Lili. Something about the way Lili hesitated . . . Was she telling the truth?
Jem nodded, face thoughtful. “It’s good that you love your dad.” Lili’s face screwed up, like she was trying not to cry.
“But doing stuff that hurts yourself isn’t the best idea. Even if you have a good point to prove,” he said.
“I won’t do it again.” She dragged a hand across her eyes. “It nearly made me throw up.”
“Good to know.” Jem pulled her closer for a hug. “I love you, kiddo, you know that?”
“I know. Love you too.”
He released her. “Let’s go see if there’s some leftover chocolate cake that can get rid of that taste for you, eh?” He winked at Natalie.
She followed on wooden legs. Whether Lili had a plausible explanation or not, she didn’t want to be the one to face Steph.
Within half an hour they had both kids fed. They waited until they heard the customary gunshots from Lili’s favorite TV show sound from behind her door.
Jem pulled out his phone and dialed Steph. Natalie bit her nails as he paced back and forth, phone in hand.
“Yes, Steph, I . . . That’s right. She’s okay. It just tickled her lungs a bit.” Jem paused and listened. “We talked to her, and she said she found Mike smoking. She did it to show him how much it worried her.” He held the phone out from his ear, and Steph’s sharp tones carried across the room.
Natalie winced.
He glanced in her direction and offered a small smile. “Yes, Steph, I know it was a stupid thing to do, but that’s what she said. Is there anything else you know of that would’ve made her do this?” He paced the room again.
Natalie looked around for something to do. Pick up toys. Dust. Anything. Her hands craved activity. She swiped a paper towel over the TV cabinet as Jem finished his call. He walked over.
“You realize Lili and I did the housework yesterday?”
“It’s a distraction.”
“Lili’s okay, Nat.”
She shrugged. She wasn’t Lili’s family, not even her nanny—her only responsibility was Olly. But the artistic teen had wormed her way into Natalie’s heart, and the thought that they were missing something bigger here . . . It gave her chills. “Do you believe her reason?”
“Mike told me the other night he and Steph have been going through a rough patch. She could be upset over that.”
Natalie’s gaze snapped up. “A rough patch?” Mike and Steph? Impossible. They ran the church. She’d had dinner with them dozens of times. They were always happy. Affectionate. Perfect. “What are you going to do?”
“She made herself feel sick and embarrassed. I’d say that’s punishment enough.”
Would she have been harsher? She couldn’t decide. “Are we bad at this . . . kid stuff?” She couldn’t quite say “parenting.”
Jem smiled when she said “we.” “We’re doing our best.”
“Is that good enough?” She stared at nothing in particular. Mike and Steph were having troubles. Steph had never said a word. But there must’ve been signs. She’d been friends with Steph for years, working with her for weeks. How had she not noticed anything?
“Hey.” He rested a tentative hand on her shoulder, then paused, like he expected her to shake it off.
She didn’t. “I just . . . If something’s been bothering her, I thought I would’ve noticed.” She might not have been Lili’s nanny, but she still spent hours each week with the teen. Her mind flashed back to Dad’s cancer diagnosis. Different situation, but still, the signs had been there for months. In her grief over Jem, she hadn’t noticed.
If she had, maybe they’d have caught it earlier. Maybe he’d have stood more of a chance.
She should have done more.
Tears welled before she could stop them. She fought to tamp them back down. This was stupid. A completely different circumstance. These emotions were nothing but irrational.
“Nat.” Jem’s hand slid from her shoulder to around her back. He embraced her, his hold gentle. It would be easy for her to pull away.
She didn’t.
“She’s fine. You’re fine. She’s a teenager. They don’t make sense.”
But this situation didn’t just remind her of Dad’s diagnosis.
She’d been completely blindsided when Jem left. What signs had there been then? She’d wracked her mind for years and identified several small indicators. But never enough of them to make sense of what he’d done.
Was this her destiny? To always try her best and never see the wreck coming?
Her emotions spiraled, locked-away memories of her darkest days spilling out. She hadn’t been a good enough fiancée. She should have been a better daughter. Now her status as a friend looked shaky.
A hug was less embarrassing than crying in front of Jem, so she leaned into him, trying to pull herself together. She slid her hands around his waist and rested her forehead against his collarbone, his chin atop her head.
His arms stretched around her, the warmth of his palms soaking into her back. He felt solid. Warm. Safe.
Oh, I missed this.
The moment stretched out—whether it was seconds or minutes, she couldn’t tell. Eyes closed, all she could sense was the strength in Jem’s firm grip around her, then the gentleness of his feather-light kiss on her hair, the familiar scent of his skin beneath that sexy cinnamon cologne.
She could stay here forever.
“This is in no way your fault, Nat.” The vibrations from Jem’s voice rumbled through his chest into her. “Anyone with eyeballs can tell how much you care. You listen. You spent time with her on that sewing project. You’re amazing.”
“You’re amazing.”
Did he mean that? Because it had been seven years since she’d been able to believe it.
Before she could change her mind, she rose on tiptoe and planted a soft kiss on his cheek. “Thanks.”
Jem didn’t move, and a breath away from his face, neither did she. Locked in his tractor beam, her breaths came quick and shallow.
His blue eyes traveled from her lips to her eyes to her lips again, longing etched in his expression. His thumb made a lazy circle on her back and he leaned forward the slightest amount, forehead against hers, eyes closed as if in pain.
He wanted her. The realization broke over Natalie like the first drops of rain after a drought.
She kissed him.
Lips pressed against his, she slipped her fingers behind his neck and pulled his head down. Closer. Her other hand cupped his jaw for one Mississippi, two, and then Jem appeared to realize this wasn’t just a dream.
His arms locked her against him, his kiss firm. He tasted of dark-chocolate peanut M&M’s, mixed with the salt from her tears. He must’ve been pinching from her chocolate stash again.
She stretched on tiptoe to reach him better, threaded her arms round his neck. She was still hurt. She wasn’t even sure if she forgave him. But that didn’t matter right now. She pressed against him and poured seven years of loneliness into her kiss.
Drawing back half an inch, she drew in his scent, sugary with
undertones of his cologne.
Jem dipped his head again and deepened the kiss, and every thought in her head melted into goo. Sweet, caramel goo. Nothing existed except his silky hair between her fingers, his arm tight around her waist, his fingertips tracing her jaw.
“A-hem.” An adolescent voice sounded from behind.
Natalie leapt from Jem’s arms and spun around. Her cheeks flamed with heat. What had she just done?
Lili stood in the entrance to the living room, arms folded and a Cheshire grin across her face.
Jem cleared his throat. “You’re in trouble, young lady. You’re not s’posed to be smiling.” But he couldn’t keep the sheepish tone out of his voice.
“Am I gonna have to keep an eye on you two?” Lili cocked her head. “Because I can’t watch a baby and two adults. I’m only sixteen.”
“Did you need something?” Jem’s tone was pointed.
“Why, are you busy?” Lili smiled a devilish grin.
Jem threw Oscar the Grouch at her.
Lili ducked, laughing, and escaped to the kitchen.
Natalie’s phone buzzed, and she grabbed at the diversion. That kiss had been a mistake. Jem had only been back in her life for four weeks. After seven years of heartache, that was not enough time for everything to be okay—or more than okay—between them.
Sam’s caller ID flashed up, and she swiped and pressed the phone to her ear. “Sam? Hi . . . Yeah, the announcement went really well. We’ve already got people volunteering . . .” She reached for her notebook, discarded on the couch. “Is that the only change?” She flipped the notebook open.
But couldn’t focus on it. Jem stood before her, flushed, eyes wide and blue and looking at her. Looking as uncertain as she felt.
The moment stretched, then Sam’s voice broke back through. “. . . newspaper ads start Tuesday.”
She scrambled to jot down her notes. In her peripheral vision, Jem walked away.
19
I am not going to kiss Jem. I am not going to kiss Jem.
Natalie repeated the mantra to herself as she took the steps up to Jem’s apartment two at a time on Monday morning.
What had gotten into her yesterday? She and Jem weren’t even dating. He’d decided he didn’t want to marry her anymore, he’d left, and no amount of comforting hugs or even smoking-hot kisses could fix the hurt that’d caused.
She stood in the corridor and rapped on his door, rearranging her features into a neutral expression. The itchy tag of her most unflattering shirt—brown with a cartoon frog on the front—scratched against her skin. But the wardrobe was strategic. She had to get her head on straight.
The door opened. Jem stepped through it, caught her in his arms, and kissed her thoroughly.
Natalie slid her hands along his jaw and kissed him right back. Seven years had done nothing to dull the heat between them.
Whoops. She had to stop—in exactly five seconds. She leaned against him, fingers brushing the hair at the nape of his neck. Four . . . three . . . two . . .
Okay, maybe ten seconds.
A floorboard creaked to their left. Natalie jerked back. No one came. False alarm. Still, she pulled Jem’s hands from her waist and stepped back. “I—That—I’m not doing this.”
Jem quirked an eyebrow. “Kinda seems like you are.”
Hands on her hips, she drew in a deep breath. “Momentary insanity. Nothing’s changed. And this”—she pointed between them—“isn’t happening again.” She pointed to his bruised cheekbone and changed the topic. “How are you going to explain these bruises at work?”
After three days, the marks from his sparring bout with John still hadn’t faded. When she’d suggested he try foundation yesterday, he’d squirted her with Olly’s bathwater.
“I’ll say I was in a bar fight. I need to increase my street cred.”
Despite herself, Natalie smirked.
He leaned closer. “And nice try, but I’m still not distracted.”
“Jem? Are you ready to go?” Lili’s voice sounded from inside the apartment.
He groaned.
Natalie stepped farther away. “This isn’t happening. And it’s time to get to work.”
Lili shuffled out the door, eyes half closed and bag on her back.
Natalie caught Jem’s sleeve as he moved to follow his niece. “Don’t forget, this weekend is the Wildfire festival, so I can’t work on Friday. We have to set up for it. You told me to remind you at the start of the week.” Even though she’d already told him a bunch of times.
He dropped a lid in a saucy wink. “I’ll put it in my calendar.” He blew a kiss, then followed Lili.
Natalie faced the open apartment door, rolled her eyes at her lack of willpower, then smiled at Olly in his high chair. Yes, it was time for work.
The rest of her day whizzed by as she did not watch the clock and count the seconds.
At 9:27 she finished changing the Wildfire advertisements for radio and print.
At 10:56 she lost three out of five crawling races against Olly.
At 11:39 she pressed Save on the festival schedule.
At 12:01 she pulled the clock off the wall and hid it in the fridge.
The rest of the afternoon was a flurry of activity as she prepared dinner, fed Olly, and helped Lili with math homework. Technically she didn’t have to stay past 3:30 p.m., but the free Wi-Fi and food lived here. The least she could do was cook.
Steph called at five o’clock. “Nat, I’ve got a chance for you to score some points against Kimberly.”
Natalie grimaced as she held the cell between her shoulder and ear and lifted a pot of water for spaghetti onto the stove. Not tonight. She’d been unable to sleep last night, emotionally disturbed due to recent events involving Jem and his lips. Plus, Steph had a bad habit of calling her last minute to work that night. Is this how it would be in the full-time position?
“Kimberly’s come down with the flu, and she was meant to prep Sam’s PowerPoints for his three school talks tomorrow. I didn’t get to it today. Could you whip them up tonight?” Papers rustled. “He’s giving another four during the week. Maybe while you’re at it you could get them sorted too.”
Natalie rubbed her forehead. She’d worked hours well above her internship commitment last week and had been up early this morning completing today’s allotted jobs. She recalled the presentations she’d seen Sam give. “He doesn’t always use a slideshow, does he?”
Steph hesitated. “He doesn’t have to. We’re just trying to put across a more professional appearance.”
Natalie dug deep. “I’ve got commitments tonight, sorry.” A commitment to eat her dinner and get some sleep. “I can do the rest of the week’s presentations tomorrow, but I can’t do tonight.”
“O-kay.” Steph drew the word out. “But Kimberly’s really impressing the board. Don’t give up too many of these opportunities.” A meaningful pause. She probably expected Natalie to cave, like she always did.
Natalie pressed her nails into her palm. “See you tomorrow.” She hung up and let out a breath. She’d done it. She’d said no.
Fifteen minutes later, she was shaking her hips to the sound of Lili’s stereo as the pot of spaghetti boiled on the stove. She sang into a spatula, then pointed it toward Olly in his high chair. “Now clap your hands.”
Lili clapped Olly’s hands above his head as Natalie executed her best Beyoncé dance imitation.
The door flew open behind her.
“Uncle Jem!”
Natalie whirled around, midshimmy.
Jem stood framed by the doorway, shirt untucked. He grinned. “Don’t stop because of me.”
She hit the volume button on the stereo. “I didn’t think you’d be home for another hour.”
“I worked through lunch and took off early.”
“That sounds awful.” By Lili’s expression, she couldn’t comprehend skipping a lunchtime.
“I was motivated.” Jem shot Natalie a meaningful smile, then plucked Oliver
from his chair and kissed his cheek. “How’s my favorite little man?”
Lili chattered to Jem about her day, and Natalie paused her spaghetti stirring to take in the picture. Jem, his collar unbuttoned and sleeves rolled to the elbow. Olly chanting “Da-da” and grabbing for Jem’s cheek. Lili laughing at something Jem said.
Natalie pressed her lips together. Staying had been a tactical mistake. One she knew better than to make. Yet she wasn’t walking out the door.
She was still staring at the trio when Lili’s words penetrated her consciousness.
“I’ve got more homework to do.” Lili disappeared into her room.
Jem caught Natalie’s eye as he returned Olly to his high chair. A slow smile stretched across his lips as he strolled toward her.
She pointed the spatula at him. “Nu-uh. We talked about this.”
He halted his advance. “Why’re you here, then?”
“Free Wi-Fi.”
“Are you working tonight?”
She hesitated. “No.”
He smiled.
She tried again. “Free food.”
“Try to sound convincing when you say it.” He stepped forward and slipped his hands around her waist.
She didn’t pull away. “We’re not . . .” The words faded away as he trailed kisses from her cheek to the corner of her mouth. Her eyes slid shut. Traitors.
During her seven kiss-less years, how many times had she fantasized about feeling this way again? Wanted. Valued. Enough. She forced her eyelids to open. “I didn’t think about you all day.” A blatant lie if there ever was one.
A wicked gleam lit his eyes. “Guess I’ll have to give you something to ponder.” He lowered his head.
His kiss was slow and tender and left her wanting more. He rested his forehead against hers and smiled at her.
She was only human. She pulled his head back down and gave him something to think about.
Jem’s hands were making a mess of her hair when two sounds registered in Natalie’s brain.
The hiss of the spaghetti water overflowing its boundaries. And a sharp rap at the door.
“I’ll get the pot.”
“I’ll get the door.”
They spoke at the same time. Jem rescued the pot—he was a better cook than she was—while she opened the door.
