by Elle Kennedy
“It was fine,” she finally said. “Everyone at the reunion was very cordial. I even signed an autograph for a woman who used to torment me.”
“I wasn’t talking about the reunion and you know it. How did it go with Nate?”
“It…we…some sex was involved.”
Georgia hooted. “Good sex or bad sex?”
She answered in a guarded tone. “Good.”
“Did you tell him to get lost afterward?”
“No, I…” Her voice drifted. Why hadn’t she done that? She’d been supposed to give him a piece of her mind. Instead, she’d spent the night tangled in his muscular arms.
“Right, you want him to fall for you again,” Georgia said, oblivious to Charlotte’s inner turmoil. “One night won’t be enough for that.”
Nope, one night definitely hadn’t been enough…
“Did he spend the night?”
“Yeah.” Though she normally felt comfortable telling Georgia everything, she found it hard to reveal any details of last night’s reunion with Nate.
“What did he say before he left?”
“He asked me if he could see me again.”
“And you said?”
“I said yes.”
Georgia went quiet again then made a frustrated sound. “You’re still going through with it, right? Giving him a taste of his medicine?”
“Of course,” she said quickly. “I just want to reel him in a bit more before I do it.”
Just saying the words out loud made her wince. She wasn’t a naturally mean person. Even when she’d lived in Paradise, she hadn’t given in to the urges telling her to strike back at everyone who’d hurt her. She’d stood up for herself, sure, told certain slimy boys where they could shove their sleazy advances, but when it came to girls like Lexie and Bree and Tara, she hadn’t done a thing in retaliation, even though she frequently felt like pulling their hair right out of the roots.
Being cruel to Nate made her anxious. Nauseous too. Could she really sleep with him a few more times and then recite his own heartless speech back at him and waltz right out of town?
“Remember, he deserves it,” her assistant said, confidence ringing in her tone. “He took your virginity and whipped it back in your face. If a guy did that to me, I’d go vengeful bitch on him.”
Georgia’s remark made her laugh, but it also succeeded in reminding her of the night at the lake after she and Nate had made love for the first time.
The sex sucked. Seriously, Charlotte, I thought you’d be better than that.
Her fingers clenched over the phone. Somehow, between the thrill of seeing him again and the even bigger thrill of having sex with him, she’d forgotten those words. But now they came back in full force. She squared her shoulders, a wave of resentment swelling in her belly.
“Don’t worry, I remember everything,” she mumbled into the mouthpiece. “I’ll call you with an update tomorrow.”
She hung up then glanced at the breakfast tray Sue had left outside her door this morning. A piece of toast, some jam and a big mug of coffee glanced back at her, but she suddenly had a craving for something more filling. She pictured the bacon and egg platter Betty served at the diner, and her stomach growled in response. Might as well kill two birds with one stone—satisfy her appetite and make another appearance in town. She didn’t particularly want to do the latter, but she’d promised herself that she wouldn’t hide away while she was here. She was Charlotte fucking Hill. She wasn’t allowed to be scared of a bunch of mean-spirited, judgmental jerks. Not anymore.
After a quick shower, Charlotte slipped into a pair of comfortable jeans and a sleeveless green tee that hung down to her knees, tied her red hair in a high ponytail and left the suite. As she stepped into the balmy morning air, she inhaled the clean summer breeze and admired the cherry blossom trees lining the quiet street. She hadn’t bothered renting a car, and so she took off at a brisk walk and headed into town.
Her ponytail swooshed back and forth, tickling her neck and bringing a smile to her lips. It had been so long since she’d taken a walk by herself. In New York, her bodyguards accompanied her almost everywhere. Here, she could go unnoticed and enjoy the fresh air, without worrying about anyone popping out of a bush to get her autograph. She was surprised that Mayor Price had actually complied and kept her presence hidden from the media. The press still believed she was in New York, and Georgia would be driving to and from the recording studio in Charlotte’s tinted-window Town Car, to fool any curious reporters into believing Charlotte was still in the city.
When she entered the busy diner ten minutes later, she could swear the entire place went silent. It lasted only a second, but long enough to make her experience a flicker of insecurity. She was used to whispers and stares from New Yorkers she passed on the street, but in Paradise, whispers and stares only meant she was being belittled again.
To her surprise, the waitress was a girl who’d gone to her high school. Jessie something or other. Jessie greeted her with a genuine smile and led her to a secluded booth in the back. The morning chatter picked up again, and she received only a few curious glances as she sat down and picked up the menu.
After she’d ordered, she settled back in the familiar vinyl seat and sipped on the coffee Jessie poured for her. Relief filled her belly as she realized that nobody seemed to be interested by her presence. Nobody was pointing and laughing at her. No low taunts about her mother being the town bicycle. Just thinking those words—town bicycle—brought a sour taste to her mouth. It was bad enough that her mom had worked as a stripper in the next town over, but the parade of men she’d invited into their home had been tantalizing fodder for the town’s hunger for gossip. And Charlotte had suffered the consequences.
But this wasn’t too bad. A nice morning in the diner, listening to the clinking of glasses and cutlery as the townsfolk ate their breakfasts and drank their coffees.
And then Lexie Price walked in and Charlotte’s nice morning went up in smoke.
She instantly stifled a sigh at the sight of her nemesis. Dressed in a short, navy blue business suit, with a white silk scarf tied artfully around her neck and her hair in a complicated-looking French twist, Lexie looked like the wealthy princess she was. Charlotte suddenly felt like a slob in her faded jeans with the hole in the knee, but she forced the insecurity down and mustered up some confidence. Who did Lexie think she was, anyway, dressing this way? She ran the Paradise Post, for Pete’s sake, not the New York Times.
Lexie greeted the waitress with a smile, chatted with an older couple sitting near the door then made her way toward the booths. Please don’t come over here, Charlotte repeated in her head, but her silent plea went unheeded.
Without invitation, Lexie slid into the seat across from Charlotte’s as if she belonged there. “Good morning,” she said with a cool smile.
Charlotte frowned. “What can I do for you, Lexie?”
“I thought we could have a little chat.”
Lexie signaled the waitress, who hurried over to take her order—a cup of herbal tea. Figured.
“What do we possibly have to chat about?” Charlotte asked with a weary look.
Lexie raised one blonde eyebrow. “I want to know what kind of game you’re playing.”
“Game? I’m not playing any games.”
“Then why are you here? You haven’t been back to Paradise since you left town. Why now?”
“I got an invitation to the reunion.” Charlotte shrugged. “I decided it might be fun.”
“Bullshit.”
Now Charlotte raised her eyebrows. She’d never known Lexie to curse, and it was downright strange hearing the expletive come out of her mouth. “For some reason, you’re under the impression that I answer to you,” she said stiffly. “But I don’t. What I choose to do isn’t any of your business.”
“If it involves Nate, then it is my business.”
Charlotte faltered for a moment. What? The way Lexie spoke, it was as if she and Nate had
something going on. But that couldn’t be. Nate would have told her if he was dating someone. Besides, she’d seen him and Lexie last night at the reunion, and neither one had acted like they were a couple or anything.
“Nate is my best friend,” Lexie added, putting an end to one bout of confusion and creating another.
“Since when?” Charlotte laughed. “Back in high school, you used to turn your nose up at him.”
“A lot of things have changed since high school.”
“Not you, though.” Charlotte couldn’t stop that biting remark, nor the next one. “Still the same old Lexie, huh? Getting into everyone’s business, judging everyone…”
Outrage lit Lexie’s blue eyes. “I never judged you. If anything, you—”
“How about we don’t talk about it,” she cut in, beginning to grow annoyed. “We weren’t friends back then, and we aren’t friends now.” From the corner of her eye, she spotted Jessie approaching the table with Charlotte’s breakfast on a tray. “So now if you’ll excuse me, I’d like to eat my meal in peace.”
Lexie had the grace not to say anything catty as Jessie set Charlotte’s plate on the table, but once the waitress was gone, it was fair game. “Stay away from Nate,” Lexie said in a frosty voice. “We both know you won’t be in town long, and you can try to deny it, but we both also know you’re playing some sort of game with him. So I’m asking you nicely—leave him alone. You broke his heart once. Don’t do it again, or I swear I will make you regret it.”
With that, Lexie slid out of the booth and left the diner with her shoulders high and chin up as Charlotte stared after her in complete bewilderment. Forget that Lexie Price had somehow become Nate’s protector. What the hell did she mean, Charlotte had broken his heart?
She’d packed up her bags the morning after Nate’s betrayal, hopped a bus and never looked back. She’d assumed the news of her and Nate’s breakup had found its way into the gossip mill within seconds, and she’d always imagined everyone their age laughing about it. High-fiving Nate for dumping her.
But Lexie made it sound like Charlotte had done the dumping.
Nate wouldn’t have laid the blame on her, would he?
The breakfast in front of her suddenly didn’t seem so appetizing as she angrily pondered the issue. Had Nate made himself out to be the victim? Was that why Lexie seemed to despise her even more than she had before?
Charlotte didn’t have the answer for that, but she decided her new mission was to get one. The guilt she might have felt this morning over her less-than-pleasant plan for Nate dissipated like the puff of steam rising from her coffee cup. Nate had dumped her, destroyed her, and then pretended that she’d broken his heart?
Her fingers trembled as she reached into her oversized canvas bag and fished out her cell phone. Nate had programmed his number into it before he left this morning and she swiftly scrolled to his name and pressed send.
When his husky voice greeted her ears, she ignored the little shiver it evoked and said, “Hey, it’s me. How about some dinner tonight?”
Chapter Five
Charlotte’s phone call came just as he was getting out of his pickup and stepping onto his mom’s driveway, and after he hung up, Nate’s chest felt unbelievably light. She wanted to have dinner with him tonight, but the sexy pitch to her voice told him that dinner wasn’t going to be the only thing on the menu. The mere thought of getting naked with Charlotte again sent a jolt of desire straight to his cock. Last night had been out of this fucking world, and this new, uninhibited Charlotte drove him wild.
He couldn’t wait to see her again.
Unfortunately, not everyone was as excited as he was. When he’d left Charlotte’s room this morning, he’d received a call from Lexie, who ranted at him for five minutes, lecturing him about how sleeping with Charlotte had been a mistake.
But Nate didn’t think it was a mistake at all. Sure, he’d experienced some initial unease when Charlotte refused to talk about their past, but he kind of understood it now. Even back then, Charlotte hadn’t liked to dwell on her misfortunes. She’d avoided dealing with all the crap that came with being Tiff Hill’s daughter, and now she was avoiding what had happened between the two of them.
Shitty as it was, he was kind of grateful for that. Eventually he’d have to tell her the truth, reveal why he’d said all those awful things to her, but for now, he just wanted to enjoy being with Charlotte again. He hadn’t realized until last night just how badly he’d missed her.
Tucking his cell in his back pocket, he entered his mom’s house without knocking and called, “Mom?”
“In here,” came the chirpy response.
He followed the sound of her voice to the kitchen, which Owen had recently renovated. The appliances were brand-new, and the enormous cedar work island in the center of the room was a nice addition. Della Bishop stood by the counter, kneading dough between her strong fingers, and her face lit up when she spotted her eldest standing in the doorway. With her dark blonde hair and light brown eyes, she looked nothing like her sons—all the Bishop boys had their father’s dark hair and gray eyes, except for Austin, who’d inherited the dark hair but a pair of forest-green eyes that Della blamed on some obscure maternal great-grandmother.
“Cookies?” Nate asked, glancing at the baking supplies littering the island.
“Rice has a cold, so I figured I’d bake him something to boost his spirits.”
At the mention of his Uncle Rice, Nate grinned. Since his uncle went to work at the paper mill even when he had bronchitis, he doubted a little cold would keep the man down, but his mom loved to pamper the men in her life, always had.
Too bad Nate’s father had never appreciated it.
“Tell him I hope he feels better,” Nate said as he hopped onto one of the tall wooden stools. He propped his elbows on the counter and said, “How are you doing, Mom?”
“Me?” She looked flattered that he would ask. “I’m doing great. Getting ready for the big craft sale next month—I knitted three sweaters this week. And I’m organizing a bake sale for the high school to raise money for new cheerleader uniforms.”
“Sounds fun,” he lied.
His mother grinned. “Says the boy who goes out of his way to not participate in community activities.”
He wanted to ask her why she bothered, but held his tongue. Despite the fact that the townsfolk still whispered behind her back and trash-talked his dead father, Della continued to make an effort to be pleasant to everyone in Paradise, even those who didn’t deserve it.
“So…” She wiped her hands on her red-checkered apron and studied him. “I hear Charlotte is back.”
“She got in yesterday.”
“Did you speak to her at the reunion?”
He nodded. “It was good to see her.”
“If you talk to her, tell her to stop by and see me,” his mother said. “Gosh, she was the sweetest girl. We used to have her over for dinner all the time, remember?”
Oh, he remembered. That first time Charlotte showed up on the Bishop porch during dinnertime, claiming she was “in the neighborhood”, Nate had seen right through the lie. Tiff Hill had never cooked a single meal for her daughter, and though Charlotte usually managed on her own and bought groceries using the money she earned working at Betty’s diner, the money eventually ran out. Nate had felt terrible about it. His father might have been a drunken carouser, but Della always made sure her boys were fed.
“I’m sure she’d love to come by and say hello,” he answered.
“Make sure she does.” His mother paused then hurled an unusually blunt inquiry his way. “Did you apologize to that poor girl for lying to her?”
Nate faltered. “How do you know I lied to her?”
“Honey, do you really think I believed your story about losing interest in the relationship? You loved that girl to death. I could see it plain as day.”
“But you never said anything. You acted like you believed me.”
“It was obv
ious you weren’t ready to talk about it.”
“Dad made his opinion known,” Nate grumbled, fighting a wave of bitterness as he remembered his father’s undisguised happiness when Charlotte left. “For some reason, he never wanted her around.”
“That’s because he was sleeping with her mother,” Della said in a clipped tone.
Nate’s jaw dropped to the floor. “What?”
“It’s true. Tiff was one of his women on the side.”
For the life of him, Nate couldn’t figure out why his mother sounded so calm about this. It was definitely news to him, the part about Tiff Hill, not the sleeping around. His dad had been infamous for cheating on his wife, and Nate had always wondered why his mother didn’t just up and leave him. He’d asked her once, when he was in his early twenties, and she’d just shrugged. Now that she’d dropped this bomb, he felt compelled to ask her again.
“Why the fuck did you stay with him?” he blurted out.
Della frowned. “Watch your language, Nathan.” She paused. “And to answer the question, I didn’t leave him because I couldn’t.”
“Sure you could. You could’ve just packed your bags and left.”
“He threatened to take my boys.” Distress filled her honey-brown eyes. “And besides, I couldn’t have supported myself. I’m a housewife, honey. All I know how to do is bake and clean and mend. I couldn’t have supported you boys, even if your father had let me take you with me.”
Nate was utterly dumbfounded. His father had threatened to take her kids from her? Why was he only hearing about this for the first time now?
“And now the subject is closed,” his mom said firmly. “Your father is gone, the past is buried, and I have cookies to bake.”
He blinked a few times, still trying to sift through all the information she’d given him. Finally he quit trying to make sense of it and asked the question he’d come here to ask in the first place.
“Have you heard from Austin?”
Della’s hands froze on the dough. “No. Have you?”
“No. That’s why I came by today.” He raked a hand through his hair in frustration. “Owen hasn’t spoken to him either, and we’re getting worried.”
