Part 11 (2/2)
Nate chuckled. ”It's not a glamorous job. There're long hours of boredom waiting around for something to happen-tolerable at twenty-something, but not so much now. I like the idea of being a free man and traveling the globe.”
”Being a nomad makes you happy?”
”I've never known anything different or found anywhere I wanted to stay for more than a few weeks at a time.”
Until now, a little voice whispered in his ear. He squashed it, ignoring the tightness in his gut.
Any man with his lifestyle and a conscience knew family wasn't an option. He'd never drag a kid from country to country, or leave the child at home with its mother for long stretches of time.
His response must've given Lauren pause, because she stayed quiet for a few minutes. Then she said, ”I guess your Christmases as a kid were very different from mine?”
A probable understatement. ”Christmas wasn't welcome in some of the places we lived, so the day went on pretty much as normal.”
She paused, turning to look at him. ”It must've been hard-being on the move. Didn't you mind?”
”When I was little, I thought everybody did what my parents did, but yeah, I didn't like it much. I was always the new boy in the village schools and likely the only white, English-speaking kid around. I'd no sooner make friends than we'd be off to another village or another country.”
”I'm sorry.”
He shot her a wry grin. ”Don't be. I had a better childhood than many others.”
Lauren faced forward, and they continued to walk. ”Did you come back to New Zealand often?”
He shook his head, not that she could see the gesture. ”No, only occasionally while I was a kid. We stayed with family-uncles, grandparents, etcetera-because we didn't have anywhere to come back to. My parents sold our family home before we left for the mission field.”
”And Christmas this year? You'll go to your parents' place-did they buy another house in the city?”
”They did, but I'll stay here and work. I don't do the whole silly season stuff.”
Nate inhaled a deep breath of pine-scented air. Stuff that would involve getting involved.
”But what about your family?”
”I don't do family stuff, either-only child, remember? Besides, Mum and Dad have their own Christmas Day routine. They help out at a nearby soup kitchen, and I've done it with them enough times over the last five years not to have a guilt trip about giving it a miss.”
”Well, I guess that makes it okay then.” Sarcasm dripped from her voice like acid, her backbone as straight as a four-by-six length of timber.
”Well, I guess it does.” He hefted the chainsaw higher, refusing to be sucked into her cozy-little-family-vortex.
Drew ran back toward them, Java at his heels barking as if he'd treed a possum. Too much cozy-little-family stuff was bad for the digestion. Especially since a tiny part of him had begun to stretch, yawn and wake up.
A tiny part that thought being part of a family might not be so bad after all.
Two days before Christmas, Bounty Bay would be chaos, but Lauren had to risk it. Drew was too d.a.m.n sneaky, great at sniffing out Christmas presents, so this year she'd gotten sneaky in return. His gifts waited in Bounty Bay's one and only department store on layaway, so Master Sneaky Pants wouldn't find them.
Today she'd pick them up, while Louisa and her tribe of kids-who'd arrived yesterday for the holidays-kept Drew entertained. A quick trip to town, in and out of the store, nothing too stressful.
Lauren tried to start the station wagon and discovered she had a stuffed alternator-which meant driving herself to Bounty Bay was out of the question.
The best laid plans and all that c.r.a.p.
In the distance sounded the steady bang-bang-bang of a hammer. Nate, working on his house...Of course he was, the Grinch.
She slammed the hood down and s.n.a.t.c.hed her handbag and floppy sunhat from the pa.s.senger seat. Nothing else to do but hike to Mac's house and see if Nate felt neighborly enough to let her borrow his vehicle.
Fifteen minutes later, with the sun beating down on her, Lauren completed her trudge up Nate's driveway. Small mercies, at least-the man had a s.h.i.+rt on today.
Nate didn't hear her approach or her forced cheery greeting. Wire cords dangled from his ears, and she figured scaring the h.e.l.l out of him was fair turnaround.
She dumped her bag and hat on the ground then strolled up behind him. A fizzle of pure, feminine appreciation filled her at the flex of his triceps each time he swung the hammer. The curve of his b.u.t.t pressed against his cargo shorts, and a tan leather belt rode low on his hips...Good grief. She'd certainly developed some weird fetish for men in tool-belts.
She waited until he paused and took a step back to admire his building prowess.
”Like a boss, Nate,” he said-too loud since he obviously couldn't hear the sound of his own voice. ”Like a boss.”
Lauren bit back a snicker and tapped him on the shoulder. ”Hi, neigh-”
Three things happened almost simultaneously.
Nate dropped the hammer.
Nate whirled.
Nate backed her up against his freshly nailed in wall, using his big, hard body to keep her in place, before she could utter more than a panicked, ”Eeep!”
Pressed together as they were-chest-to-chest, belly-to-belly, groin to tool belt, she gasped, the strength leaving her bones like a giant straw had sucked out the marrow. Tinny music blasted from his ear buds as she stared opened mouthed, losing the will to struggle when it was so much sweeter, so much more electrifying just to swim in the depths of his eyes. Eyes that creased cutely, and then-dammit-moved away as he let go and stepped to the side.
”Sorry about that.” He pulled out the ear-buds. ”Old reflexes die hard.”
”My bad,” she wheezed, attempting to prevent her eyes from rolling back in bliss and her legs from spilling her to the ground. ”A little revenge mission gone wrong.”
He laughed and ran a hand through his hair. His s.e.xily mussed hair.
Losing it, big time, Lauren.
”Thought you were heading to town?” Nate bent down and retrieved his hammer, giving her another heart-palpitating view of his rear end.
”The station wagon's alternator is stuffed, so it's not going anywhere. Can I borrow your car, please?” She smoothed down her shorts and straightened her tee s.h.i.+rt, which had rucked up around her waist in the whole smooshed-up-against-her-hot-neighbor incident. ”I need to order a new part in town; plus, I've got some Christmas shopping to do for Drew.”
Nate unbuckled his tool belt and tossed it against the base of the wall. ”Can't let you take the Range Rover, but I can give you a lift-I've got some stuff I need to do in town, too.”
Oh. Well, she could hardly say no. She stretched on a Christmas-spirit-soused smile. ”Thanks. I'll go wait by your car.”
Years of making small talk at charity galas and black-tie events served Lauren well as Nate drove them to Bounty Bay.
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