When I'm with You (Hope Town #3)

by Harper Sloan

  And still, he’s the most beautiful man I’ve ever laid eyes on.

  If anything, the horrendous makeup just accentuates the hard chiseled lines of his face. He looks just like Cohen said, like a cross-dresser, only a cross-dressing Adonis.

  “She needs to learn to listen. She tried to tell my Molly-Wolly that blue wasn’t my color, so she had to go to time-out until she thought about her actions. Right, Molly-Wolly?” Nate answers my question with a smile.

  I ignore his smile and turn my back to him, just as I’ve done every time I’ve seen him over the past year. I can feel his eyes on me as I make my way out back. Maybe a year ago, I would have laughed with him and asked him why he continues to put the women in his life in time-out, but not now.

  Cohen continues down the steps when I pause at the railing and look around at everyone spread out over the large backyard. Megan is walking away from her husband, smile on her face, and heading down toward the dock. Lee, her husband, is standing with Cohen’s brothers, Cam and Colt, following his wife’s retreating back. That is until Cohen steps up and gives him a good-natured shove. Zac, Jaxon, and their dad, Asher, are tossing the football around with Beck and Greg. Axel and my dad are standing around the grill while Izzy, Dee, and Chelcie move around the huge farm table that takes up one side of their outdoor dining area.

  Spotting my mom with Melissa, Sway, and his partner, Davey, I make my way to where they’re playing with Dani’s boys. I stop to give my mom a hug, saying hello to everyone else I pass as I make my way down to the dock.

  Just as Cohen said, all the girls are there. All six of them indeed giggling in their little makeshift huddle. My sister looks up when my feet hit the wooden planks and gives me what I couldn’t mistake as anything but a relieved smile.

  Being the baby of the girl side of our group—hell, the baby of the whole group—I don’t spend as much time with them as she does, but it doesn’t mean our bond isn’t strong. All of our parents have been friends for so long that even though I only share blood with one of them, we are very much a family.

  Dani breaks away and gives me a hug before pulling me forward. Megan smiles and gives me a hug as I walk by, and then Stella, Lyn, and Lila are next before my sister gives me one of her bear hugs that I swear cracks a rib every time.

  “About time you got here!” she yells after backing away.

  “Don’t start. Dad was in the driveway when I pulled up.”

  She laughs, and the others follow suit. “I told you. Over the shoulder threats are never made lightly by him.”

  “Yeah, yeah … what did I miss?”

  “Oh, nothing,” she says sweetly, a little too sweetly.

  “We’re planning Saturday night,” Dani says, earning a scowl from my sister.

  “And that would be the party I didn’t ask for?”

  She nods, and I see the others’ smiles grow. Shit … this can’t be good.

  “Would anyone care to fill me in?”

  Each of them barks out a ‘no’ at the same time, and I narrow my eyes. No one moves to speak, but Stella starts laughing so hard that I worry she might fall into the lake.

  “I’m not sure I like the way this is going right now,” I admit, feeling even more uneasy about the weekend plans I don’t want.

  “Well, you don’t even need to worry about a thing. We’ve got it covered from your makeup and hair, all the way down to what underwear you’re wearing under the dress we’ve already bought. All you have to do is show up at Dani’s house to get ready around dinnertime Saturday.”

  I narrow my eyes at my sister, but before I can speak, Axel bellows out that it’s time to eat. “This conversation isn’t done,” I threaten, but they all wave me off as they start to walk up to where the food is being set out on one of the custom-made buffet-style bars that line the Reid’s outdoor kitchen of sorts.

  I do my best to ignore the huge six-foot-four man wearing a tutu as I fix my plate and wedge myself between Cam and Colt at the large table. I swear this thing is big enough to fit a whole football team, but even with all that space, I feel like nowhere is far enough away with Nate here.

  My eyes never leave my plate, but I see him sit down across from me next to his sister and Cohen. I can see him out of the corner of my eye bend down to kiss his nephew, Owen, before looking back in my direction.

  Conversation flows easily when we’re all together. Typical catching up on what everyone has been doing. When Melissa, Greg’s wife and Cohen’s mom, asks about my art exhibition coming up, I finally look up.

  “It’s already looking to be pretty big. From what the owner of the gallery has said, there are already whispers of a few pieces that she anticipates will sell quickly.”

  “That’s wonderful, Ember!” she praises. “You know we’re all going to be there.”

  “Hell yeah, we are,” my sister yells from the other end of the long table.

  “Maddisyn Locke,” I hear my mom scold. “Children at the table.”

  I watch Maddi raise one perfect brow at her, and I know she’s about to throw some of what my dad calls sass. “Need I point out that these children have heard much worse from every person in attendance, especially all you elders?”

  I hear a grumbled ‘sass’ from the end my father is sitting at, and my mother just laughs.

  “Nate, how are things going at the club?” Asher’s wife, Chelcie, asks.

  I look back at my plate but listen for his answer. Truth be told, I’ve been curious about this new project of his. But not enough to ask anyone openly about it. I’ve followed the news on social media, which it seems like you see something everywhere. Every local radio station is plugging the opening of Dirty Dog, but no one knows much besides it being billed as the biggest thing to happen to the Atlanta area club scene in decades. All everyone sees are the pictures of the old Club Carnal, what used to be a popular club years and years ago, transformed into a huge and breathtaking mix of class and rustic flair. Everything on the outside has been pictured everywhere. The huge warehouse covered in brick is now painted black with steel accents. When the Dirty Dog logo went up, in all its bright red glory, it popped so brightly it demanded attention.

  “Sold out every weekend for the next three months. We didn’t do tickets for the weekday nights, but I’m pretty confident that it will be crowded. Or hopeful, at least.”

  “Well, isn’t that lovely,” she says, looking over at where Nate’s mom, Izzy, is sitting across from her. I don’t miss the look that passes between them, but it shocks me to see the worry on his mother’s face.

  Worry? Anyone with eyes and ears can see the hype surrounding his grand opening is going to carry for a damn long time. If I let myself, I would feel so much pride for him.

  “Yeah, I guess.”

  “You going to dress up like a fairy on opening night too, little princess?” His sister laughs at him but snaps her mouth shut when he turns slowly to face her.

  Cohen, not ever one to miss anything, takes his son from Dani’s arms just as Nate stands from the table. He bends his tutu-covered waist and pulls his sister from the table before tossing her over his shoulder.

  “You big jerk! Let me down, Nate! Daddy, tell Nate to leave me alone!”

  “Nate, leave your sister alone.” He complies, stuffing another piece of steak in his mouth and not even looking in their direction.

  Dani continues to smack his back and kick her feet, but he just walks over to the back corner of the covered dining area and drops her to her feet. He silently spins her so that she’s facing the corner and points at the stone covered wall in front of her.

  “Two-minute time-out for insulting the princess,” he tells her, then silently walks back the way he just came. He stops to give Molly’s beaming face a kiss on the cheek before taking his seat and picking up his fork.

  “Maybe we’ll check it out,” I hear his father say, continuing like nothing happened as his daughter stomps back to the table, shocking me enough that my eyes automatically shoot fr
om Nate’s face to his before looking back at Nate.

  He looks ridiculous, but he puts his fork back down and turns to look at his dad, the makeup on his face making him look anything but serious. “Afraid you’re going to be out of luck there, old man. Unless you get lucky and find a scalper out front, we’re sold out.”

  “Nathaniel.” His mom gasps on a laugh. “Not even for your parents?”

  I watch him shake his head at her before looking over and meeting my eyes, holding them captive with the intensity brewing in his emerald gaze. With my heart in my throat, I look down at my plate and busy myself with moving some food around while listening intently to his words.

  “I’m not sure it’s your scene, Ma. Definitely not something for the faint of heart, and to be honest, I’m not really sure I want my parents to see me in action.”

  “In action?” I hear someone ask from the end of the table.

  “Ha!” Cohen burst out laughing. “Trust me on this, Izzy, the last thing you want to do is see your boy here in action.”

  “You make it sound like he’s running a brothel,” someone else jokes making Cohen laugh even harder.

  What in the world?

  “Well, I’m going, and you can’t stop me. Even if I have to buy a ticket because my own son won’t let me in.”

  “We’ve got ten!” I hear my sister yell, making Cohen laugh even harder.

  “Ten? What the hell,” Nate calls her way.

  “Oh yeah, we’ve got bigggg plans this weekend, don’t we, girls?”

  Shit, kill me now. They’re taking me to Nate’s place? No … no way.

  “Would you stop laughing,” Dani tells her husband, only causing him to start a new wave of hilarity.

  “Uh … big plans for what?” Nate continues, ignoring his sister and brother-in-law.

  “It’s Ember’s big twenty-first. What better way to celebrate than doing it Dirty style, right Nate-Dog?”

  At that point, Cohen is laughing so hard I fear he might break something. The only thing I can do at this point is to pray this is all a joke, but when I look up and meet Nate’s eyes again, I know if it is, then the joke’s on me.

  His lips are tipped up in what can only be described as a shit-eating grin sinful enough to melt panties, pink lips and all. I don’t even try to figure out what he’s thinking because all I can focus on is trying not to throw up.

  EMBER’S TAN SKIN HAS HELD a blush on her cheeks for the last two hours. Dinner continued as normal after the announcement of the big plans for her birthday, but other than that moment when she looked at me in shock, she hasn’t given me those eyes once more. I’ve tried because I can’t understand for the life of me why there was pain dancing in them when she found out she would be spending her birthday at my club.

  How have things gotten so strained between us?

  Sure, we had a moment when things were awkward years ago, but we had settled into our friendship easy enough after some time passed. Things were never the same— fuck, far from it—after she admitted her feelings toward me. Feelings I had been fighting for her for a damn long time surfaced and obviously haven’t gone away, but they have never put this kind of tension on our friendship.

  It’s been bothering me for months, but I still can’t figure out what I fucking did to make her look at me like she wishes she had a knife to stab into my back. Hell, up until Dani and Cohen got married a year and a half ago, things had been fine. Then she started skipping out anytime everyone was together. When she did show, she avoided me like I had the plague. I can’t even remember the last time we had a conversation, let alone a time that I was on the receiving end of a genuine smile from her.

  Plates pushed aside, everyone continues to talk and catch up. I look back across the table as Evan pulls on my hair, ignoring the pain in my scalp as he tries to pull my hair from my head, and kick my leg out in her direction. She jumps but doesn’t move her attention from Cohen’s brother, Cam. She listens to whatever the fuck he’s carrying on about and ignores me as usual.

  Fuck this shit.

  “Ember, mind giving me a hand getting this shit off my face?” I ask, knowing she has too good of manners to ignore me when I’ve spoken directly to her. Especially as I did it loudly enough that those around us look over and laugh at what Molly did to me earlier.

  I watch her take a deep breath before looking away from Cam and fucking finally giving me those eyes.

  “I’m pretty sure you can handle it,” she says softly, and once again, I see that pain just below the surface.

  “Might be so, still asking for your help.”

  One way or another, I’m getting to the bottom of this shit. I finally have everything in my life going on the right track, full speed ahead, and I want my little firecracker along for the ride with me.

  Her lips thin for just a second before she catches herself. Right when she’s about to open her mouth, I assume to give me another line of bullshit, my mom interrupts her. “You can use my bathroom, honey. Ember, the makeup remover is in the second drawer on the left.”

  I raise one of my eyebrows at Ember, daring her to fucking say no now. Panic briefly crosses her face, so fleeting I question if that’s what I saw, before she stands from the table and starts to walk up the deck stairs and into the house. Not even saying a word.

  “Come here, little prince,” my sister coos and takes her youngest from my arms. “Be nice,” she whispers at me when I move to stand. I look at her with confusion, but she just gives me a sad smile.

  What in the fucking hell? I swear all the women in my life are insane.

  I unsnap the tutu I had made for myself when Molly told me she wished I had one just like hers as I walk up the deck stairs, dropping it on the couch when I enter the house. The silence around me is so thick I want to knock something off the wall just to ease the trepidation it’s creating. Shaking off the ridiculous feelings, I walk through the house, up the stairs, and into my parents’ bedroom at the end of the hall. I find Ember in their bathroom pulling out some girly shit, and I stop in the doorway to wait for her to acknowledge that I’m there.

  “How long are you planning to stand there?” she asks a minute later, not looking away from what she’s doing.

  “Depends. How long are you planning to ignore me, babe?” I shoot back, my confusion growing when her shoulders pull tight.

  “Don’t call me that,” she seethes, only pausing briefly in her task.

  “What the fuck, Em?”

  “Just don’t. Do not call me babe. I’m not your fucking babe,” she says with so much hate in that one word I’m struck dumb.

  “Right,” I stutter, finding my feet and walking into the room. Maybe it’s her lady time? I sit on the chair in front of my mom’s vanity and look up at her. Her eyes are pinched tight and her chest is moving rapidly with her rushed breaths. “It’s just a word, Em. I didn’t realize it was offensive.”

  Her eyes snap open, and she looks down at me, the pain not even masked in the slightest.

  “What’s going on here?” I cluelessly question.

  She picks up one of the square cotton looking things in one hand and a bottle in the other, back to ignoring me, but her face is saying enough. I search my mind trying to figure out what’s happening right now, but fuck if I have a single light bulb going off.

  I close my eyes out of instinct when she moves toward my face with that shit, her movements angry as she roughly wipes my face.

  “Keep your head still,” she snaps.

  “Kind of hard to do that when you’re dead set on removing a layer of skin, babe.”

  She stops instantly, and I curse myself.

  “Do not call me that!” she screams.

  I open my eyes, blinking when whatever the fuck she had been wiping on me gets in my eyes and burns. I stand quickly, knocking over the chair and stick my head down, turning on the water in the sink and grabbing the towel off the hook. I scrub quickly before standing and looking down at her. She hasn’t moved an inch, b
ut now, her hands are gripping the counter so hard, it’s as if it’s the only thing keeping her standing.

  The water falling from my face is soaking my shirt, but I turn and look in the mirror to make sure I got all that damn makeup off, and frown at the clips still in my hair. I pull at them angrily, throwing them down onto the floor. When my hair is free, I pull it up in a knot on the top of my head and bring my attention back to Ember.

  “Tell me what is going on, Em. What have I done?”

  She’s silent but turns to look at me.

  “What did I do to get this kind of reaction from you?” I continue.

  Still nothing.

  “Fucking tell me, Emberlyn! What made you look at me with hate in those beautiful eyes? I can’t stand it anymore.”

  She jerks back with so much force that I know there is no way she didn’t feel the snap all the way down her spine.

  “What did you do?” she weakly questions.

  I nod. “Yeah, what did I do because, for the fucking life of me, I can’t figure it out.”

  “What did you do?” she repeats, her tone getting harsh.

  I don’t say a damn thing. Growing up with a sister, I know when a woman is on the edge of crazy.

  “You really have no fucking clue, do you?”

  I shake my head, but clearly, even that was the wrong move because she again jerks but this time with her whole body.

  “You’re unbelievable, Nate.”

  The silence continues after that, more because I’m afraid if I so much as breathe, she is going to stab me with my mom’s cuticle scissors.

  Just when I think it’s safe, her eyes narrow and she leans up. Because I have a foot plus on her, that doesn’t do much, but still, I don’t move. Even pissed as hell, she’s still beautiful.

  “What’s your name, babe?” she oddly asks, before walking around me and slamming the bathroom door in her wake.

  I look around the large bathroom, trying to figure out what just happened before looking at my reflection. “What in the fuck just happened in here?” I ask my reflection, stupidly wishing it could throw me a bone here.