Part 16 (1/2)
”Yes, but I'd better put some flip-flops on my feet, or I'll end up falling all over you.”
His smile sent her heart and hormones into orbit.
Oh, she could fall, all right-fall big time. But it wouldn't be because of her high-heeled sandals.
It seemed natural to steady her elbow as they stepped off the deck. It seemed natural to slide his palm down her forearm and twine their fingers together. It all seemed so natural, as instinctual as checking both ways before crossing a busy street, but the impact of her skin against his and the sight of her shy smile in the glimmer of moonlight just about knocked him off his feet. Natural, h.e.l.l...Nate felt as if he were the victim of a hit-and-run collision.
Kid, you got it bad. Pull back before you fall off that b.l.o.o.d.y cliff you've been dancing along. Steve's voice echoed in his head, as clear as if the man stood beside him.
But Nate could keep his balance. He'd never stumbled.
He and Lauren walked, following Java's loping gait and the curve of her driveway. They talked of inconsequential things, and he was okay with that. He wouldn't push. Yet.
By the time they strolled back to the garage door, he knew more about rebuilding a V8 engine than he'd ever wanted to. The woman was stalling. Big time.
He couldn't pinpoint why he needed Lauren to trust him with her pain. Savannah had taken years to admit her husband was a verbally abusive deadbeat. Guess when you made yourself emotionally unavailable it was hard to open up.
But wherever this thing with Lauren was headed-and it couldn't go anywhere other than the land of temporary-she still needed to talk. He wanted to be the friend to her that he hadn't been to Savannah when she needed him most.
Sure, he'd kicked Sav's husband's sorry a.s.s, but Nate never went to her afterward and said, ”I'm sorry for not being there for you, but I'm here now. Please talk to me.” He'd done the stereotypical guy thing-helped her with practical matters and avoided any mention of feelings.
He opened the garage door and flicked on the light. ”Show me your dad's car?”
”Good idea. I'll start it up. It's about time to give the motor a turn over.” She brushed past him and tugged the cover off the hood.
Good idea? The last time he'd asked to see the Cadillac she'd looked at him as if he'd demanded she strip naked and pole dance. Oh yeah, major-league stalling.
He helped her drag the cover back. Car wax and the fainter scent of leather upholstery tickled his nose. The car's sleek lines couldn't hold his attention. Not when Lauren's dress slipped up her thighs as she climbed into the driver's seat and kicked off her flip-flops.
”Hop in.”
”Want me to take off my shoes first?”
He gestured to her bare feet, which caressed the pedals. It made his groin twitch, imagining her feet sliding up and down his calves as she wrapped those endlessly long legs around his hips.
Whoa. Down, boy.
Nate dragged his gaze up to the gentle sway of Lauren's hair as she shook her head.
”Dad always said life was for living and his car for driving. He didn't want the Caddy shrink-wrapped in protective plastic and stuck in a museum. Or a garage.” She sent him a crooked smile while her hand stroked the steering wheel, her fingers clenching briefly at the three o'clock position. ”I guess you should just hop in.”
He folded himself onto the low-slung bench seat, stretching out his legs while Lauren started the car and idled the engine. After a minute, she turned off the key, slumping back in her seat and watching her fancy metal keychain swing back and forth, back and forth.
Then she turned to face him, her bare thighs whispering on the leather.
”You said your friend, Steve, died of cancer. Were you with him?”
The unexpected change of topic punched into his gut. Sympathy flickered in her eyes.
”Yeah. I sat with him in the hospital for the last few days. I don't think he even knew it most of the time.” He blew out a harsh breath. ”It's b.l.o.o.d.y torture watching someone die.”
”You cared a great deal about him.”
”Steve was my mentor. But more than that, my mate.”
”He would've known you were there.”
He rolled his shoulders to shake off the heaviness. ”I like to think so. He had no one else.”
”Oh, Nate. I'm so sorry.”
”Were you with your dad when he died?”
She tucked her hands under her knees and a gut-deep sigh gusted out. ”No. He had a heart attack when I was fourteen and at school. My brother was working for him then and had gone to the bakery for morning tea-he came back and found Dad on the workshop floor.”
”Must've been devastating for you all.”
”It took a long time for our family to recover, and it cut out Mum's heart. It wasn't until she had my career to focus on that she came out of her dark place.”
”The modeling.”
”Yes, the modeling.” She curled her legs up beneath her on the wide bench seat. ”Without Dad there to temper her enthusiasm or to back me up after I told her I wanted to be a mechanic, not a model, I pretty much caved in and did what she wanted.”
”How old were you when you started?”
”Fifteen. Seventeen when we went to New York for the first time.”
Seventeen? Holy s.h.i.+t. Arriving in the Big Apple was overwhelming enough for an adult, let alone a teenager. ”You were just a kid. Kind of a harsh adjustment from growing up in rural New Zealand.”
”It was exciting and non-stop and challenging-but to begin with, I had terrible bouts of homesickness.” She sighed again and smoothed the dress over her knees, which only emphasized her trembling fingers. ”I'll tell you about the night I got this scar, but first I need to know-what happened in that bar with Savannah Payne?”
Wow. He hadn't seen a second topic-evasion coming, though with Lauren being Lauren, he should've.
Nate leaned back against the smooth leather. ”You've never asked me what happened.”
She c.o.c.ked her head. ”It was none of my business...before.”
”And now it is, since we've unintentionally become involved in each other's business, right?”
”Something like that.” She laced her fingers together on her lap and waited.
Steel cables of tension stiffened his back muscles. The truth would reveal just how self-centered and selfish he'd been. But since she was about to spill her guts to him-and make no mistake, he wasn't leaving this car until she rid herself of her story-explaining his relations.h.i.+p with Savannah was only fair.
”Savannah Payne is my second cousin-our mothers are cousins. We never have and never will be romantically involved.”
Lauren's mouth parted and then clamped shut, the flush of pink vanis.h.i.+ng from her soft lips.
”We saw each other on the odd times my family came home from mission work and then got close after I arrived back in Auckland and enrolled in university. I'd give her a ride to play rehearsals and stuff when I got my driver's license, and I'd turn up at her school productions. She was the bratty younger sister I never had-fun, carefree, the life of the party. That changed after she married her high-school sweetheart.”