Elise sat back down and laughed. “I understand.”
She looked around to the two guys. “Water okay with you guys, too?” she asked as she walked around to Nate and Luke’s side.
“I can get my own, you know,” Nate said.
It was true. He wasn’t really a guest in her home anymore. He raided her fridge whenever he was hungry and helped himself to whatever he needed without asking anymore.
“That’s okay,” she said as she opened the cupboard and reached up for the glasses.
But Nate went for them at the same time she did. As he reached from behind her, she felt his naked chest against her back. A tingle went down her spine, straight to her belly, and she dropped her hands to the counter as she tried to fight a slight tremor.
Apparently, her libido hadn’t died with Jordan. It had just gone dormant. And she didn’t know what to do with it if it was coming back.
Several hours later, Nate Hall walked from the backyard into Piper’s house. He locked the sliding glass door as he called out to her, “Piper, I’m going to head out.”
She came out of her study as he reached the front door. “Oh. Okay,” she said from just inside the room.
Nate studied his one and only girl friend. That was girl, space, friend. Two words. Because Nate didn’t normally have girl friends. Or girlfriends for that matter. Too messy. But Piper was special. And, even if he didn’t like her so much, he owed her. More than she’d ever know.
She’d been acting weird all afternoon. At lunch, she’d been reaching for some glasses when she suddenly stiffened and dropped her hands to the counter. When he’d asked her if she was okay, she’d looked up at him, and the series of expressions that had crossed her face passed so quickly that he’d almost missed them. She’d looked panicked, in awe, and then guilty. But, before he could comment, she’d muttered something about being fine, grabbed the plastic cups from his hand, and walked over to the fridge to fill them with water. He hadn’t pressed her. It had been obvious she didn’t want to talk about it, and he hadn’t wanted to put her on the spot in front of Luke and Elise.
And, now, she was as far away from him as possible while still in the same room. She ran her hands through her black hair while her green eyes wouldn’t meet his.
He walked forward. She stepped back and ran into the doorway. He replayed the day in his head, trying to figure out if he’d done anything, but the fact was, they’d hardly even seen each other. She’d been in the house while he was working outside.
“What’s wrong?” Nate asked her.
Her eyes widened. “Wrong? Nothing’s wrong.”
“You’re a terrible liar. Don’t ever go to Vegas. Now, spit it out. What did I do?” Nate hated beating around the bush and playing games. It was one of the reasons he didn’t do girlfriends.
She moved toward him, and her body visibly relaxed. “You didn’t do anything.”
At least she was telling the truth about that.
“Then, what’s bothering you?”
“I’m…” She sighed. “It’s not something I want to talk about.”
He gritted his teeth. Not because he wanted to know all her secrets, but because he couldn’t help her if he didn’t know what was wrong.
“Is there anything I can do to help?”
She barked out a laugh as if his suggestion were ridiculous.
He didn’t laugh.
She stepped closer. “I’m sorry. That was rude. No, there’s nothing you can do. I simply realized something today since Jordan’s…passing. It’s something I need to figure out myself. But I appreciate it.” She put her arms around him and laid her head on his chest.
He squeezed her tight, wishing there were something he could do, but he was glad that she was acting normal again. “All right. I’ll see you tomorrow.” He kissed her on the head and let her go.
Piper told him good-bye, and Nate headed to his truck and drove home. He took a quick shower, put on clean clothes, and was in his truck again.
Nate pulled into the driveway of a 1950s Rambler that had been a staple from his childhood. He went to the front door, knocked once, and pushed open the door.
“Geepa,” he called out a couple of times before he got an answer.
“Down here.”
Nate walked down to the basement and into his grandfather’s workshop. Geepa was bent over his sander and held a two-by-four.
“Whatcha building?” Nate asked.
Geepa shut off the sander and blew on the wood to clear it off. “Don’t know yet.” He set the two-by-four down and removed his goggles. His light-blue eyes, an exact replica of Nate’s, shone with a smile.
But that was where the similarities ended. His grandpa’s face was pale and weathered. He’d worked outside most of his life, and his alabaster skin had suffered from it. Another chunk of skin had been taken out of his nose, which had probably been the beginning of skin cancer. Unfortunately, his grandfather had worked back before sunblock was a thing.
Nate pointed to his own face and asked, “Everything okay?”
Geepa waved off Nate’s concern. “Yeah. That pesky doctor just likes to cut into me. I think she likes to see me suffer.”
Somehow, Nate doubted that, but as long as his grandfather let the doctor do her thing, Nate wasn’t going to argue.
“You ready to go to dinner?” he asked, changing the subject.
“Yep. Just let me grab my cap.”
Nate followed Geepa upstairs to the kitchen where his favorite Minnesota Twins baseball hat sat on the counter. His grandfather smoothed down his ever-thinning blond comb-over and shoved his cap on his head.
“Geepa, someday soon, we’re going to share eye color and hairstyles,” Nate told him.
“Keep laughing, young man. You know male-pattern baldness is inherited from your mother’s side of the family.”
“But I don’t have hair.”
“Now. You’ll change your mind when you get older.”
“We’ll see,” Nate said as the two of them walked outside to his truck. “How do you know that anyway?”
Geepa narrowed his eyes at Nate. “I read. I watch the news. I’ve gotta keep up with you youngins.”
“You do realize I’m thirty-three, right?”
“And I’m seventy-six.” He pointed to Nate. “Young.” Then, he turned his finger on himself. “Old.”
They each opened their door and got inside the vehicle.
“In that case, why don’t you just shave your head like me?”
His grandfather sniffled. “Your grandmother liked my hair. I’m not getting rid of what little I have.”
Nate’s grandmother probably wouldn’t have cared for his grandfather’s current hairstyle, but Nate kept his mouth shut. He would have been one lost little boy if it hadn’t been for his grandparents.
When Nate was four years old, his mother had passed away from a brain aneurysm. Nate had been an only child, and his father had struggled with his own grief, never understanding how much Nate needed him. But his mom had been his grandparents’ only child, and they had taken him under their wings. There was a time, after his mother had died, when Nate had practically lived with Abuelita and Geepa.
A few years later, when Nate was seven, his father had remarried, but Nate had never gotten along with his stepmom. Not until he’d moved out of the house, and even then, there were no warm fuzzies between the two of them. The only good thing about his father’s remarriage was that Nate had gained a little sister out of it. Tiana was one of the few women, besides his mom and grandma, whom Nate loved.
Nate backed out of the driveway and headed to their usual restaurant. “Do you miss her?” he asked Geepa.
“Every day, son. Every single day. Her and your mother both.”
“Me, too,” Nate admitted.
His grandparents had met when his grandpa was in the military and stationed in Texas. His grandma’s parents had been immigrants from Mexico, and even though her whole family had lived in Texas, she
had married his grandfather and moved to Minnesota. They’d lived happily ever after until his abuelita passed away when Nate was seventeen. But, unlike his father, Nate’s grandfather hadn’t pushed Nate away despite how much his grandparents loved each other.
And, now, the two of them were closer than ever. They would go out to eat together almost every week while Nate wouldn’t go to his dad and stepmom’s more than once a month for dinner. And Nate was more likely to ask his Geepa for advice than his dad. It made Nate proud that he had been named after his grandfather, although Geepa was Nathan to his Nathaniel. Nate’s mom had wanted him to have his own identity.
Once at the restaurant, the two of them were surprised at how busy it was. It was a Saturday night, but it was still early in the evening.
“You can wait at the bar for a seat, or you can eat there, too, if you prefer not to wait,” the hostess offered.
Nate looked at his grandpa, letting him decide.
“Let’s go sit at the bar.”
“Works for me.”
They took their seats and each ordered a beer while they looked over their menus. After a few minutes, their server came over. She was a cute little redhead, and the smile she gave Nate told him he could have her phone number before their dinner was over. But then she had to go and ruin it.
“Can I ask, what are you?” she asked after their food was ordered.
And, just like that, any attraction he’d felt toward the lady vanished. “I’m a human being,” he said dryly.
Oh, Nate knew what she meant. She wanted to know his race, his ethnicity. She was confused by his blue eyes and bronzed skin, his aquiline nose and thinner lips, and she wanted to put him in a nice little group in her brain. But Nate’s ancestors were from Africa, Mexico, Germany, Poland, Ireland, Scotland, and probably a couple of other places he didn’t know about. Nate was an Other on the forms he had to fill out. There was no one category for him.
He used to hate it. It was why he’d worn brown contact lenses in college and started shaving his straight light-brown hair. He’d come to embrace his features since then though. He’d ditched the contact lenses, and the only reason he still shaved his head was because it was easy to take care of, and he noticed the ladies liked it.
But he would love it if he could go more than a week without someone asking him this question. Why did it matter so much? It didn’t change who he was on the inside.
His grandfather slammed his menu closed on the bar. “He’s my grandson; that’s who he is, young lady.”
Her mouth parted in surprise.
That’s right; this old white dude is my grandfather.
Nate held in his laugh because, now, Geepa was putting the waitress on the spot.
“I’m-I’m sorry, sir,” she stammered.
“Apology accepted, although you should be apologizing to my grandson.”
“I’m sorry,” she said to Nate.
Nate shrugged. He wasn’t mad, but he hoped she had learned a lesson.
The rest of their dinner was uneventful. Despite the server’s questions, she’d done a good job, and Nate tipped her well.
When she returned his final credit card receipt with her phone number on it, Nate threw it in the trash on the way out the door.
Early Wednesday evening, Piper knocked once on Nate’s front door before pushing it open. “Nate,” she called out.
“I’ll be down in a minute,” he answered from upstairs.
As she stepped over the threshold, she was immediately greeted by a loud meow and a large, hairy beast twisting himself around her legs.
“Hello, Fred.”
Meow.
It was a meow that clearly meant, Pet me.
Piper had never met a cat that wanted love more than Fred. It was a good thing her hands were full with dinner, so she didn’t have to pet him. Instead of being satisfied when he got attention, he always wanted more.
Piper toed off her flats and attempted to step toward the kitchen, but she tripped as Fred wove around her feet again.
She screeched when she almost dropped the food as Nate came from upstairs, wearing a T-shirt and jeans with bare feet.
He quickly scooped the bags out of her hands. “You okay?” he asked as he tried not to laugh at her.
“Besides your cat trying to kill me, I’m fine.”
Nate turned and took the food into his kitchen. “Fred wasn’t trying to kill you. He just wanted you to fall to the floor, so he could get closer to you.”
Piper snorted as she followed Nate. “This is why I’m a dog person.”
Fred, who had been trailing behind his owner, spun around and meowed at Piper. He then turned his back and walked away.
“I think you pissed him off,” Nate joked.
There was no way the cat had understood her, but she found herself calling out, “I’m sorry, Fred. You’re my favorite cat.”
Nate set the bags on the counter and looked inside. “Davanni’s. What did you bring tonight?”
After Jordan had passed away, Piper and Nate had discovered that they were both big fans of Law & Order: SVU. They’d started watching it together frequently. Soon after, it’d turned into having dinner every Wednesday. Now that it was summer and only reruns were on, the two of them were making their way through the many seasons of NCIS.
“I tried calling to see if you wanted your usual pizza or a hoagie, but you didn’t answer, so I got both. I figured you could always take leftovers to work.”
“Sorry. I didn’t realize you’d called. Thanks for getting both. What do I owe you?”
Piper narrowed her eyes at him.
Nate laughed. “I know. I’ll get dinner next time. Still, Abuelita would come down here and kick my ass if I didn’t offer. You bought me more than one meal this time.” He pulled out his food. “What did you get?”
She reached for the other bag. “I got pasta,” she admitted.
“Good for you.”
Piper felt her face warm even though she really didn’t have anything to be embarrassed about.
She was not one of those people who lost her appetite under stress, and after Jordan died, food had been her go-to source of comfort. After a while, her hips and ass had begun to show it, and she’d even gone up a bra size.
It wouldn’t have been a big deal, except she hadn’t been a small girl to begin with. Piper had always been proud of her curves and loved that Jordan had loved her just the way she was. But, after the new wardrobe she’d bought began to feel tight, she had known she had to do something. One, her bank account couldn’t afford another splurge in clothes shopping, and two, she was already predisposed to type 2 diabetes on her dad’s side and high cholesterol on her mom’s side. If anything, she needed to focus on her health.
And, while she had done a good job of eating well, she couldn’t help being disappointed that she still couldn’t fit into the clothes she’d worn before Jordan’s death.
Nate, who was pretty much her best friend in Minnesota, knew all this, but he didn’t agree with her. Yes, he thought being healthy was a good thing, but he’d told her she had nothing to worry about in the weight department. He’d told her she worried too much about what society thought and that she was beautiful just the way she was.
She supposed he was right. And it wasn’t like she was looking for a new man. But, as a woman, it had been pounded in her head since she was little that she needed to be thin to be beautiful. Logic did not always factor into conditioning.
Still, she couldn’t deny that she appreciated his praise in her choice of meals. Nate might have some faults, but he wouldn’t tell her she looked good if she didn’t.
“Thanks,” she told him as she lifted off the lid of her chicken Florentine. “Where are we eating tonight? Kitchen or in front of the TV?”
“I’m eating my pizza, so let’s go in the den.” He picked up his food, and she did the same. “Have you heard of the show Mindhunter?”
“Is that on Netflix?”
They set
their food on the coffee table, and Piper sat.
“Yes,” Nate answered. “I’ll be right back.” He went back to the kitchen and returned with two bottles of water. Handing her one, he said, “I’ve heard really good things about it.”
“Me, too.”
“It’s only ten episodes. I thought maybe NCIS could wait.”
“Let’s do it,” she told him.
Nate brought up Netflix on his TV and started the show while they dug into their dinner.
After the first episode, Piper was hooked. She picked up her empty pasta container to take it to the garbage. They both had been so into the show that they didn’t want to pause to clean up.
“I’m warning you,” she told Nate. “I don’t think I can wait until next week to finish watching this. I see a binge-watch feast in my future.”
He laughed. “It’s early. We can watch another one.”
“But we’re not watching all ten tonight.”
Nate paused. “How about we watch as many as we can tonight, and then we’ll meet up again tomorrow and watch some more?”
She smiled. “Okay. For now,” she teased.
It was in the middle of episode three that Piper began to feel sleepy. She’d worked late the last two days, and now, it was catching up with her.
Nate put his arm around her when he noticed her yawn and pulled her down onto his chest.
She still remembered the first time Nate had done this very same thing to her. She’d been so tense and nervous. She hadn’t known him that well at that point, and she hadn’t known if he was hitting on her, thinking she would be an easy lay now that she was a lonely widow. But he hadn’t tried anything. He’d simply held her close while they watched a movie. He’d been a perfect gentleman.
And, now that she knew she could trust him one hundred percent, Piper snuggled into his chest. He always smelled so good. Like a man.
Part of her felt guilty for lying on Nate’s chest when it should be Jordan’s chest she was lying on, but there was nothing she could do to bring her husband back. And, sometimes, she ached to feel the touch of another person. That was one of the hardest things to deal with after Jordan’s death.
Nasty (Naughty #2) Page 2
