With Me in Seattle Bundle One

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With Me in Seattle Bundle One Page 9

by Kristen Proby


  “He was a mess. He’s mad about you. I think you should get to know him, the real him, better and give it a chance.” I frown at her. “Besides, I’ve never seen you act this way about a man before. Don’t give up on this yet.”

  “He lied to me, and you know how I feel about that!”

  “Oh, Natalie, think. Have you stopped to think that maybe it was a nice change for him to be around someone who didn’t want anything from him? Who didn’t recognize him and squeal and ask him stupid questions? He was just a normal guy hanging out with a normal girl. I wouldn’t want to ruin that, either.”

  I think hard about what Jules is saying, and yes, it makes sense.

  “He still should have told me, at least yesterday.” I am now sulking, and I don’t care.

  “You’re right. Let him apologize. Maybe you’ll get some good gifts out of the deal. Jewelry? Wine? Flowers?” She laughs when I stick my tongue out at her.

  “Not today.”

  “Don’t play games with him, Nat.”

  I scowl. “I’m not playing anything. He hurt my feelings. I just want to hang out with my best friend and do girl stuff today. Besides, when he stormed out of my room, he said he didn’t need this, so I’m assuming he’s no longer interested.”

  “Oh, he’s interested.” She waves the thought away with a flick of her wrist. “Wanna go shopping?” she asks hopefully.

  “No. Ironically, I want to go to the movies. But nothing with Luke Williams in it.”

  “Okay, there’s nothing with his name on it there anyway. I think we deserve extra butter on our popcorn.”

  “And no diet soda. And because you recognized him before I did, you’re buying.”

  Jules pouts as we gather our things and get in the car, headed to the movies where I can lose myself in someone else’s story for a few hours and spend time with the one person in this world whom I trust completely.

  Chapter Ten

  It’s late when Jules and I get home. The high-paced action/adventure film we caught—with Vin Diesel, no less—was exactly what I needed to escape reality for a few hours. And I ended up giving in to Jules to go shopping afterward. How can I, Natalie Conner, pass up new shoes? They are my vice.

  “Those red Louboutins you found are to die for,” Jules says as we’re pulling bags out of the back of my Lexus.

  “I know. I love them. I don’t know when I’ll get to wear them, but I couldn’t resist them.” I reach for the bag of shoes, and we head for the front door.

  We stop abruptly when we see what’s waiting on our doorstep. Dozens of bouquets of roses, in all different shapes, sizes and colors, are covering the porch, the front steps, every surface possible. The aroma is amazing. There must be fifty-dozen roses here, minimum.

  “Oh, Natalie.” Jules’ eyes are wide, and her face gets all gooey, taking it all in.

  I can’t help but get just a little gooey with her.

  “Wow.” It’s all I can say, and I’m just so relieved. Maybe it’s not over? We walk up the steps, careful not to knock anything over, and I see an envelope taped to the door with my name written on it.

  “Here!” Jules pulls it off and hands it to me. It’s too dark to see well, so we step inside and drop our bags. Jules starts hauling bouquets in.

  “Where should I put these?”

  “Um…I don’t know. Just put them throughout the house.”

  Her smile is huge. “He gets mad props for this, girl.”

  “Yeah, he does.” I feel my own wide smile and stare down at the envelope and then carefully rip it open.

  Dear Natalie,

  There is a rose here for every time I thought of you today. I wish you would talk to me and let me explain why I didn’t tell you who I am, and I’m so deeply sorry that you had to find out from your friend. I have a lot of explaining to do, and I hope you give me a chance to make it up to you.

  Please call me when you’re ready to talk.

  Yours,

  Luke

  Oh, yes, he’s charming. I tuck the note in my pocket and help Jules bring all of the flowers inside, scattering them all over the house. It looks like there’s either going to be a funeral or a wedding in my living room in the morning, and it makes me giggle.

  “See?” Jules smirks. “I told you he’s crazy about you.”

  “Or just crazy,” I reply, laughing.

  “You’d better call him and thank him.”

  “Yes, Mom.” I roll my eyes at her. We lock up after the final bouquet has been brought in and fussed over. “Here, take some of these up to your room.”

  “Don’t have to tell me twice!” Jules tucks a bouquet under each arm and heads upstairs with her shopping conquests.

  I grab my phone, which has stayed turned off all day, my new shoes, and a gorgeous arrangement of perfect long-stemmed red roses with pearls tucked into the petals, and go up to my room. I kick my sandals off, set the vase on my bedside table, and put the new shoes in their new home in the closet. Going back to the flowers, I can’t help but fuss over them and bury my nose in a soft, fragrant bloom. I notice another note, tucked in the stems, and pull it out, sitting on the bed as I read.

  These reminded me of your gorgeous long legs and delicious red lips. And one day, I’d love to see you dressed in nothing but pearls.

  Oh my. Is this what it feels like to be romanced? I wouldn’t know, but I think I like it. And it occurs to me that he’s been romancing me all along. The delicious dinner at his house, cuddling on his deck watching the sunset, our amazing picnic lunch yesterday. He was right when he said that he made love to me last night. Sex has never been that intimate for me.

  But he did lie, even if it was by omission, and that’s a deal breaker for me.

  I decide to give him a chance to explain. I’ll go to his house tomorrow and hear him out. I already miss him. His touch, his smile, his belly laugh, the feel of that soft blond hair in my fingers. I desperately want something good to happen with this man, and maybe that’s what scares me most of all, even more than his celebrity status and the fact that he could have any skinny little glamorous woman on the planet.

  If things go too much further, he could hurt me.

  But the thought of not seeing him again makes my chest ache.

  I pull my phone and the letter from the front door out of my pocket. I fire up the phone and impatiently wait for it to wake up.

  Three missed calls, two voice mails and two texts. Nothing from Luke.

  Both voice mails are from clients, so I save those and remind myself to call them and the four from this morning back tomorrow.

  I scroll down to Luke’s number and hit Call.

  He answers on the first ring.

  “Hi,” he says softly.

  “Hi,” I murmur, my eyes closing at the sound of his voice. “Thank you for the beautiful flowers.”

  “Do you like them?” I hear his smile.

  “They are amazing. And bountiful.” I can’t help but chuckle.

  “I thought of you a lot today.”

  “Apparently so.”

  “Natalie, I’m so sorry…”

  “No, Luke,” I interrupt him, the agony in his voice my undoing. “I’m sorry, too. I may have overreacted just a bit.”

  “No, I understand. I should have said something yesterday.”

  “Yeah, you should have.” I sigh. “I don’t want to talk about this over the phone. Are you busy tomorrow morning?”

  “You want to see me tomorrow?”

  I hear the excitement in his voice, and I melt even more. “Well, I was thinking I could come over to your place, and we could talk.”

  “Yes. Come now.”

  I laugh and turn on my side on the bed, feeling my stomach start to settle for the first time since this morning. “I’m tired and don’t think I’m up for a long conversation tonight.”

  “What did you do today?” he asks.

  “Jules and I did some shopping.” Should I tell him about the movie?

  “Wha
t did you buy?”

  God, I love his sexy voice. “Shoes.”

  “You like shoes?”

  “I’m a woman. I am desperately, irrevocably in love with shoes.”

  “What do the new shoes look like?”

  “Red stiletto Louboutins.” I grin as I think about my sexy new shoes.

  He whistles. “Wow.”

  “Yes, they are wow.” I laugh.

  Suddenly, it’s quiet, and I think I’ve lost the call. “Luke?”

  “Yeah, sorry, I was just imagining you wearing nothing but those shoes and pearls.”

  “Wow,” I murmur.

  “Yes, it was wow.” His voice is low, and I hear his grin, and I just want to touch him.

  “What else did you do today?” he asks, interrupting my thoughts.

  “Well, ironically enough, we went to the movies.”

  I hear him gasp. “I thought you didn’t watch many movies.”

  “I don’t, but I had a rough morning and wanted to forget for a little while, so we overdosed on popcorn and soda and a bare-chested Vin Diesel.”

  “Was it good?”

  “A bare-chested Vin Diesel is always good,” I reply haughtily.

  “You wound me, Natalie.”

  “A bare-chested Luke is better,” I whisper.

  “That’s better,” he whispers back.

  “I like it when you whisper.”

  “You do? Why?”

  “It’s hot.”

  “Really?”

  “Very hot.” Oh, I love this flirtiness that we have.

  “I’ll remember that.”

  I suddenly wish I’d taken him up on his offer to go to his house now, so before I can make an ass of myself and beg, I end the call.

  “Nine o’clock tomorrow?” I ask.

  “I’ll have breakfast waiting,” he murmurs.

  “Good night.”

  “Good night, beautiful,” he whispers.

  ***

  I wake to an incessant doorbell. I glance at the alarm clock. Who the hell is ringing my doorbell at seven-thirty in the damn morning? I fumble around for yoga pants and a shirt and grumpily trudge down the stairs.

  Standing at my door is a young blond girl, maybe sixteen, holding a Starbucks to-go mug and a single red rose.

  “Are you Natalie?” she asks with a smile.

  “Yes.”

  “These are for you.” She’s excited as she pushes the coffee and flower toward me.

  “Uh, thanks.” I take them from her, pushing the rose against my nose.

  “There’s a note, too.” She holds it out to me and claps her hands. “This is the most romantic thing I’ve ever seen in my life!”

  I laugh at her excitement and open my door wider so she can see the dozens of bouquets of roses in the living room. Her eyes about pop out of her pretty little head.

  “Holy shit! Wow. You’re so lucky. Bye!” She waves and is off.

  I take a sip of the coffee—oh God, that’s good. How did he know white mochas are my favorite?—and open the note.

  Good morning, gorgeous. Just a little something to start your day off right. Can’t wait to see you. Luke

  Holy Moses, he’s just so sweet.

  Jules comes down the stairs yawning. “Who was at the door?”

  “Does Starbucks deliver?” I ask.

  “Uh, I wish.” She eyes my coffee and the rose.

  “A girl just delivered these.”

  “Jesus, this is starting to get sickening.” Jules heads for the kitchen, and I laugh, following her.

  “I’m going to see him this morning.”

  “Good. I don’t want the details.” She starts making her own coffee. “Wait. You’re the only one getting laid. Yes, I do want details. And pictures.”

  I grin and bury my nose in the rose again. “I’m not going to sleep with him. We’re just going to talk.”

  “Right.”

  “We are.”

  “Okay. Let me know how that works out for you.” She sets the coffee to drip, then smiles over at me. “I’m glad you’re giving him a chance.”

  “Just because he’s the Luke Williams?”

  “No, because he’s a good guy who finally treats you the way you deserve to be treated.”

  “What am I getting myself into?”

  “Something fun.” She shrugs. “Stop overthinking it and enjoy it.”

  “Okay. I’m going to shower and head over to his place for breakfast.”

  “Be safe.” She calls after me.

  “I always am,” I call back.

  ***

  I stand at Luke’s door and pause before ringing the bell. Am I overdressed? I glance down at my yellow sundress and strappy black sandals. Summer is hanging on with a vengeance, and it’s going to be warm today. Maybe I should have worn shorts.

  Maybe I should stop procrastinating and ring the damn doorbell.

  A few seconds later, Luke opens the door, and before I can say a word, he wraps me in his arms and kisses me with a need I’ve never felt before. He runs one hand down to the small of my back, pulling me against him. His other hand cups the side of my head while his mouth moves deftly over mine, back and forth, his tongue pushing into my mouth to dance and move against my own.

  Oh God, I missed him! It’s only been twenty-four hours, but it feels like I haven’t seen him in days. I run my hands up his back, under his shirt, feeling his smooth skin, and moan against his mouth.

  He slows the kiss, gently touching my lips with his, and when I open my eyes, he rests his forehead on mine.

  “Do you always answer the door like this?” I whisper.

  “Oh God, Natalie, I was afraid I wouldn’t see you again.” His voice is raspy with anguish, and I grasp his face in my hands, imploring him to look me in the eye.

  “I’m here.”

  “Thank God.” He steps back, and I let my eyes slide over him. His body does amazing things to a white button-down shirt, sleeves rolled to the elbows, and jeans. He’s barefoot. His hair is messy and sexy and is begging for my fingers.

  “You look fantastic. Come in, make yourself at home.” The smell coming from the kitchen is amazing, and my stomach growls.

  “You’re cooking?” I ask, glancing back at him.

  “I promised you breakfast.”

  “You already sent me coffee, which was delicious and unexpected. Thank you.” I lean up and kiss him chastely on the mouth.

  “You’re welcome.” He smiles. “I hope you like French toast, bacon, fruit and coffee.”

  “Perfect.”

  “It’s all set up outside.”

  I follow him out onto his magnificent deck, and he motions for me to go ahead of him. Was I really here just a few nights ago? It feels like a long time ago, so much has happened since then.

  The table is covered with a white cloth. The food is on warming plates, under silver, domed lids. There is coffee and juice, but the red roses are what catch my eye. Three dozen, in three separate bouquets, are set in even distances down the table.

  Tears come to my eyes as I feel Luke’s hands on my shoulders from behind me. He’s gone to so much trouble! Even after the way I spoke to him yesterday.

  I turn in his arms and look up into his intense, beautiful blue eyes. “Thank you, so much.”

  “It’s my pleasure, honey. I told you in the car, we have a lot of catching up to do. Get used to it.”

  I don’t know what to say. He pulls me in for a hug and kisses my forehead.

  “Come on, let’s eat. I’m starving.”

  We sit in the same seats we sat in the other night. He uncovers our plates, and I breathe the delicious scents in appreciatively.

  “Smells fantastic.” I pour warm syrup over my French toast and take a bite of bacon. “Mmm…bacon.”

  He laughs and takes a bite of his own bacon. “I do love watching you eat, baby.”

  “Why?” I ask with my mouth full of the soft, delicious toast.

  “Because you’re so honest ab
out it. Like everything you do, I guess. I love it that you enjoy food.”

  “Clearly. Have you seen the size of my ass?”

  His eyes blaze as he glares at me over his coffee mug. “Don’t ever put yourself down like that around me again, Natalie.”

  I frown and look down at my plate.

  “I don’t know how many times I have to tell you or show you how beautiful I think you are for you to get it through your head.”

  “Luke…”

  He reaches out with his long fingers and grasps my chin, tilting my face back up to meet my eyes.

  “Look at me. There is nothing for you to be uncomfortable about when it comes to your body. Eat whatever you want. I love watching you eat. I’d love to work out with you, just because I love watching you move. Your curves are beautiful, and I can’t wait to get my hands on them again.”

  “Okay.”

  What else am I supposed to say to that?

  “Are you trying to send the florists’ kids to college?” I ask, trying to distract him.

  Chapter Eleven

  Luke laughs at my quip, and I relax a little. I really need to watch what I say around him about my body. I’ve never been so self-conscious with other men, but that’s probably because I didn’t really care what they thought of me. They could take me or leave me.

  I want Luke to take me.

  “Thank you for breakfast.” I pick up my coffee and lean back in my chair, admiring the view of the water and the boats sailing across it.

  “You’re welcome.” He stands and holds his hand out for me to take. “Come, let’s get more comfortable and have that talk.”

  Wow, I’m not going to have to drag it out of him! This is good. I take his hand and abandon my coffee, but grab the orange juice, and follow him over to the plush love seat. I sit facing him and wait for him to start.

  Luke sits on the edge of the sofa and runs his fingers through his hair. He’s agitated, probably nervous. I don’t really know what to say to put him at ease. And I desperately want him to start talking.

  “Hey,” I say and link my fingers with his. “It’s okay. Tell me whatever you’re comfortable telling me, and we’ll go from there.”

  His eyes are worried, his brow furrowed, as he leans back and kisses my knuckles.

 

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