“Okay, guys,” she said, pushing back from the desk to stand. “Thanks to more of Ivy’s brilliant scheduling, we’re able to move some things around. If all goes well, the day after tomorrow should be the last of the big push, which makes the following day more waiting—molds to set, serum to process. So if you need to take care of anything personal, pencil it in for then. Though things always change. Remember that.”
“A day off in the middle of a major time crunch,” Luke said, coming up behind her. “Why do I find that suspicious?”
“Because you’re a gorilla who can’t trust anyone?” She gave him a saccharine smile. If it were twelve hours ago, he’d kiss that sass right out of her.
But the fact that she’d called him untrusting gave him pause. Was she right? Was Dexter right? Hell, Natalie didn’t know him well enough to pick that up, even if it was true.
“I’m not a gorilla.”
She glanced down the front of his lab coat. “Not yet.”
He was not going to get sucked into another inappropriate flirt-off with this woman. No matter how much he enjoyed their banter. Especially since he knew it couldn’t end with a quicky drift through Kiss Tunnel.
While Natalie and Ivy went over some procedures with the interns, Luke read three emails from his boss. He shot back a reply, running down what they’d gone over that day. No more than five minutes later, his cell rang.
He stepped into the hall before answering. “Elliott.”
“I read your update,” Melvin said as a greeting.
He didn’t like his boss all that much, but Luke had been with Penn Med for five years, was damn great at his job, and had a solid reputation. Solid enough that the feds had come knocking.
“DC is breathing down my neck,” Melvin said.
Luke glanced around and lowered his voice. “I can’t talk now. I’m at the lab. But I’ll send you another message when I can.”
“Do that.” The line went dead.
Luke scoffed. “Dickweed.” More than ever, a job with the NIH was appealing as hell. Climbing the ladder in a government position meant he could make real changes…once he cut through all the bureaucratic red tape. That was one part he wasn’t looking forward to, but it would be worth it.
He shut off his phone and returned to the lab. Natalie had her laptop and projector out, running through slides with graphs and charts. This PowerPoint was in the proposal packet he’d received from the NIH.
“Go back to the last slide,” he said, stepping closer to the screen. “This data’s a hypothesis at best.”
Natalie lowered the clicker. “Are you saying that as an observer?”
“No, as a microbiologist, concerned citizen, and future father.”
Natalie tilted her head. “Father?”
“Someday. But that’s not the point. You’re talking in gross generalities here. There’s no way to know if it works or not.”
“That’s why we’re running tests. This is a research lab. A clinical pre-trial.”
Even though he heard irritation in her voice, he had to take a stand one last time. “And you intend to feed an already sick kid a bar of chocolate and think that will make it all better? Doesn’t that sound even the least bit counterintuitive?”
“That’s a lot of talk for an observer.”
Luke gazed around the room, waiting for one of the other faces to show an inkling that they agreed with him. But they were as stone-faced as Natalie. Unbending. Controlling.
Okay, maybe it wasn’t fair to think that. He knew she wasn’t out to intentionally hurt anyone. But her aims were misguided. Shouldn’t someone set her straight so she could get on with her life?
“I don’t get it,” he said, sliding his hands in his pockets. “You’re so damn smart about everything else in your life, why are you doing this to yourself, wasting time when you know it won’t get anywhere, and for no reason?”
Natalie stared at him. At first she looked merely insulted, then plain old pissed off. “Who says there isn’t a reason?”
He crossed his arms, ready to hear it, and then fight it, no matter what it was. “Tell me.”
“Luke,” Ivy cut in, “just drop it.”
“No.” He kept his eyes on Natalie. “If she’s got a personal agenda, shouldn’t we know about it?”
“My agenda is none of your business,” Natalie snapped. “Just because you don’t think this study is important doesn’t mean it isn’t. This might end up being very important to someone out there, some kid, someone’s son or brother who needs help because nothing else works.”
Luke clearly noted a hitch in her voice. For a moment, he thought he’d pushed her too far. But no, she’d never make it in the real world—the world outside sugar city—if she couldn’t defend herself.
“Your argument is weak, too personal.”
Natalie didn’t reply. Stone-faced, she marched over to him, close enough that he could catch the golden flecks in her brown eyes. “You’re being an ass,” she hissed.
He moved his focus from her eyes to take in her whole face, the stress lines that looked way too out of place. He’d managed to truly tick her off this time. “Hey, don’t take it personally,” he said. ”We’re debating. It’s what we do.”
“Not about this,” she said before turning on her heels and storming out the door.
Luke balked in confusion. What just happened? “Natalie,” he called, and was about to follow her into the hallway when Ivy grabbed his elbow.
“Let her go,” she said, her voice held a hint of sadness. “I told you you should drop it. Why do men never listen?”
Luke stared at the open doorway, waiting for Natalie to come back. Five minutes later, she did. But it made his insides feel twisted and tight when she wouldn’t look at him. He hadn’t meant to upset her, not really. They couldn’t one-up each other anymore in the way that had become familiar and fun—because that always led to more.
Did that mean they couldn’t even be work friends?
The next two days at the lab, Natalie barely said a word to him and refused to speak to him alone. He wanted to explain, to apologize and make things right between them. He’d grown used to the awesome feeling he got when they’d catch each other’s glances, share a quick look when someone mentioned the redistributed chocolate molds, or how she’d roll her eyes when she acted like she was annoyed with him for asking a question.
She was all business now, and he didn’t like that one bit.
Chapter Twelve
“Ivy has kindly volunteered to oversee production of the molds tonight and tomorrow,” Natalie said. “So we won’t meet back here until Tuesday morning. Everyone cool with that?”
She didn’t bother looking at Luke, but she heard him clicking his pen. She hadn’t seen him outside his lab coat in two days, which helped keep her lustful thoughts at a distance. He’d also stopped contributing to the discussions. Sometimes she wouldn’t hear him speak for hours. When he would chime in, the sound of his voice made her heart do that skip thing she liked. And then she’d yell inside her head that her heart had no business skipping over any part of Luke.
He’d obviously never understand her or her position or how important this trial was. So why bother with the façade of friendship?
She was the last to hang up her lab coat and was halfway across the parking lot when Luke stepped into her path.
“Do you have a second?”
Her heart went all skippy-skip. “No. I promised Ivy I’d bring her TexMex.” She gripped her purse strap. “I have to go.”
He stepped in front of her again. “What about later?”
“I’ll be asleep.”
“No, you won’t. You’ll be going over the project in your head. You won’t be able to sleep.”
He was right, but she wouldn’t let him charm her by pretending he knew her so well. “Nevertheless, I don’t have time. I’m very busy.” When she tried to walk around him, he blocked her path. She exhaled. “Fine, you wanna talk, I’ll meet you late
r.”
“Where?”
“I don’t care.” So long as it was somewhere public—lots of people, please. No dark tunnels.
“Phillip Arthur? I’ll buy you a sundae.”
No, you won’t.
“Fine.”
“In two hours?”
“Two hours.” When she confirmed, he finally stepped out of her way. As she started her car, she felt a little guilty. Luke would be waiting a lot longer than two hours for her to show up.
Her parents’ outdoor back porch was her favorite place on the property. While she sipped her café mocha, she fixated on the Holden Apple Farm sign swaying lazily in the morning breeze. Dad really needed to repaint it or make a larger one, even though he spent less and less time actually running the farm, and more time in Hershey or making deliveries.
Consequently, Natalie was out at the farm a lot more. There was always something her parents needed or had forgotten. Who knew what would happen if she wasn’t around to help all the time. Not that she minded, though, not really. Taking care of others was good for her. Right?
“Morning, honey.”
Natalie’s mom joined her on the porch. If anyone belonged in Lancaster County among the green farmlands and winding country roads, it was her mother.
“Morning.” She took another sip of coffee, heavy on the mocha.
“We were surprised you showed up last night.”
“I needed to decompress.”
“You only decompress here when you want to hide.”
She was kind of hiding, but Mom didn’t need to know why. The farm could be a sanctuary sometimes. True, she resented it when she was a teenager and lived so far away from any kind of regular teenager life, but now, she understood its peaceful beauty.
If only Luke could say the same thing about Hershey. But he couldn’t wait to finish the job and go straight back to Philly where he belonged.
He’d never belong in Hershey, let alone in a place like Intercourse. In her wildest fantasies, Natalie could never picture him chilling out on the porch or strolling through their three acres gathering apples to sell at the farmer’s market. No way.
“Is Muff awake?”
Mom looked over her shoulder into the house. “I heard his TV. I think he’s been up for a while.” She sighed and sat beside her at the table. “He had a few good days this week, but yesterday…”
Natalie didn’t need Mom to finish the sentence. For the millionth time in a week, her heart ached triple time for Brandon. This trial had to work. If it didn’t—
She wouldn’t allow her brain to finish the sentence. There was way too much at stake.
Though she’d never admit this to another human being, she wasn’t in complete denial about what Luke had said about her product. Legitimizing the theory of dark chocolate infused with organic anti-depressants was probably a long shot. Maybe it wouldn’t make it onto this year’s clinical trial list, but maybe it could find a home in specialty stores, organic markets, new-age shops…
She flinched at the last thought. New-age. Hadn’t that been what she’d mockingly called Luke that first night at the Lounge? Why couldn’t he have been just plain Luke Elliott? Local dude back in town for a few weeks, the boy who’d kissed her in a boarded-up boathouse once, the guy who’d tiptoed in and out of her fantasies since she was thirteen. The grown-up man who made her feel things with a single look through his fogged-up safety glasses.
“What’s the matter, hun?” Mom asked.
“Nothing. Everything.” She exhaled. “I’ve got a lot on my mind. Meanwhile, I think I’m losing my mind.”
Her mother put a hand on her shoulder. “I’m sorry if this is too much for you. We’ve all been relying on you, waiting for your grant to get approved. You’re under too much pressure from us. It’s not fair.”
Natalie blinked back the tears that had been hovering since she’d left the parking lot of the lab last night. “You haven’t been pressuring me. I do that on my own. But every time I think about Muff, I… I have to try, Mom. I have to do everything I can.”
“I know, Nat.” Her mother patted her hand. “Is that everything that’s bothering you?”
“No.” Natalie tugged her bottom lip. “But it’s everything I want to talk about now.”
“Okay.” Never one to pry, Mom smiled and gave her hand a squeeze. “It’s still a little early to eat, but how about I make us an omelet to share. I picked up some bologna from the Bird-in-Hand butcher shop on the way in.”
Natalie’s stomach clenched. Not at the thought of bologna, but from the thought of the last time someone made an omelet for her—or tried. “Sure.” She smiled up at her mother, gratefully. “Thanks.”
As Mom headed to the kitchen, Natalie heard tires crunching over gravel at the front of the house. “Is Dad already out?”
“Don’t think so. He was still sawing logs when I left the bedroom.”
“That’s funny. I hear a car.”
“You sure it’s a car?” Mom said from the kitchen. “Might be that nice Amish boy who your father hired to fix the irrigation pump. Grab the door, will you, hun? Don’t make him come up and knock. He’s so shy.”
Natalie didn’t think it was a buggy. No sound of horse hooves. But she zipped up her hoodie, slid into her flip-flops and opened the door. The front porch faced east, so the bright, early morning sunlight shone right in her eyes. When she heard a car door close, she used her hands as a visor.
Then her heart jumped up her throat. “What are you doing here?”
Luke was marching across the gravel to the porch. “You didn’t show last night.”
Natalie bit the inside of her cheek and crossed her arms. “Sorry.”
“No, you’re not. You stood me up on purpose.”
The nerve of this guy. “You left at seven in the morning and drove forty miles to lecture me some more?”
His forehead crinkled. “I’m not lecturing you. And I left at five. Took me a while to find this place. The sign out front needs to be bigger.”
“I tell my dad that all the time.”
Luke pulled at the top button of his shirt, then rubbed his palms together. He wore faded jeans with a hole ripped in one knee. The way the sunlight made his hair look almost auburn made her want to run her fingers though it to catch the light.
“You still haven’t answered my question,” she said, forcing an edge to her voice. “Why are you here?”
“Can I come in?”
“No.”
“Nat?” Mom was on the porch now. Crap. She should’ve made Luke leave the second he’d arrived.
“Mrs. Holden,” Luke said, trotting up the steps right past Natalie to shake her mother’s hand. “It’s nice to meet you. Sorry for dropping in so early. I’m Luke. We met the other night in the Hershey Lounge parking lot. Well, we didn’t actually meet, but we were both there—”
“Why are you talking?” Natalie said from the corner of her mouth.
Luke turned to smile dotingly at her. “I’m saying hello.”
“Didn’t you see the other sign out front?” She pointed up the gravel driveway. “Trespassers will be shot on sight.”
“Natalie.” Mom cut in. “He’s not a trespasser. Look at his shoes.”
The three of them stared down at Luke’s black sneakers. They might’ve resembled Chuck Taylors, but they were probably a designer label.
“He was just leaving,” Natalie said.
“Oh?” Mom frowned. “You wouldn’t like to come in for a cup of hot cocoa first? I’m heating the milk and about to add the Hershey’s syrup.”
Yeah, right. An offer like that will send Luke running and screaming for the nearest paleo market.
“Sounds delicious,” he said. “I’d love some, thanks.” As he followed Mom into the house, he sent Natalie a smug smile over his shoulder.
She narrowed her eyes at him but didn’t speak, didn’t give him the satisfaction that he’d used his Elliott dreamy good looks and manners to charm Mom into letti
ng him in the house. Maybe if she didn’t speak at all, he’d get the hint and leave. The sooner the better.
Luke hadn’t been out to Lancaster County in years. But after waiting on Natalie at Phillip Arthur for three hours last night, he’d been so furious that he’d actually cruised the streets of Hershey looking for her. After a fruitless hour of that, and after looking in to see if she was with Ivy at the lab, he’d gone home.
At four in the morning, he’d thrown back the covers and Googled Holden Apple Farm. There was no physical address, just one for the Intercourse Farmer’s Market. If a girl like Natalie was royally pissed, she’d want to be surrounded by something calming and familiar. Thanks to the never-ending winding stretches of Intercourse’s back roads, it had taken him a few hours to find it.
“Would you like whipped cream on top?” Mrs. Holden asked, holding out his steaming cup of cocoa. “It’s chocolate flavored. You can never have enough!”
The description made Luke feel like his teeth were about to start rotting. But he smiled and said, “Yes, please.”
Natalie sat in the kitchen chair across from him. After his answer, she released a snarky chuckle under her breath. It was the first almost-word she’d uttered since he stepped foot in the house.
“Cocoa for you, Nat?” her mother asked.
“I’ll just take a big ol’ bowl of the whipped cream,” she replied. “All the vitamins and minerals I need for the day.”
She hadn’t looked his way, but Luke knew the comment was aimed at him. He wouldn’t let her goad him, not today, maybe not ever. Yes, he’d been livid that she hadn’t shown up when he’d clearly only wanted to apologize. When she wouldn’t allow him to do that, he had to track her down.
But he didn’t feel like apologizing now. He felt like giving her another lecture. He wanted to get it into that thick skull of hers that she was speeding toward a dead end. Why wouldn’t she listen or let him help? She was so frustrating, this head of a research team.
Not that she ever really looked like a chemist gunning for a clinical trial, this morning, especially. Her unruly blonde hair was tamed within two loose braids, and she wore a pink zip-up sweatshirt, yoga pants, and flip-flops.
Kissing Her Crush Page 15