“Oh no you don’t.” She wagged her finger. “You knew I never intended to stay in Spearfish permanently.” After she offered the abbreviated version of her reinstatement, she added, “The Beautification Committee approved the landscaping this morning, so I’m good to go.”
“Was Nathan there?”
“Yes. I might not have bothered being there for the way the committee members fawned over him.” She snorted. “I couldn’t very well let on that he hadn’t informed me that he’d even entered the Maxwell Competition especially after he’d won the damn thing.”
“He won?” Val faltered, clearly torn between excitement for Nathan’s accomplishment and commiserating with Tate. “You didn’t know that he’d entered your project in the competition?”
“No. Did he tell you?”
“I’d suspected.”
Tate’s broken heart constricted further. She couldn’t stand it if Val had been part of the deception. “Was that the reason you suggested it?”
“No.” She scowled, scrubbing at what looked like a mustard stain on her shorts. “Actually, he’d been so busy that I thought he’d forgotten until I convinced him to meet with you and talk about your landscaping problem.”
“Convinced,” Tate repeated slowly. “How hard did you have to beg your brother to have sex with me?” They’d headed into dangerous territory—not only could their friendship suffer, but Val’s relationship with Nathan might be strained as a result of this deal gone wrong.
Val went still. “What are you talking about?”
“Nathan never wanted to sleep with me.” Hot, erotic images danced through her mind, making a mockery of the statement. Okay, maybe Nathan had been reluctant in the beginning, but at the end he’d been an equal participant.
“Well, he certainly fooled me,” Val continued sarcastically, “with the way he couldn’t keep his hands off you.”
When Tate neither confirmed nor denied her statement, Val said, “Maybe you’d better start at the beginning because I think I missed something.”
“That day you asked me whether we’d done the deed? I lied about me being the one who backed off on wanting wild sex.” Tate grabbed a lilac-colored unicorn with a tattered leg. “Nathan wanted to go slow and somehow Mr. Charming convinced me to go along with it. So initially, our ‘lessons’ were all about his need for romance.” She squeezed the animal so hard stuffing popped from the mangled horn. “How could I have been so stupid? He didn’t want romance. All he’d wanted was to buy time to win that damn contest.”
“Whoa…back up. He said he wanted romance? Instead of sex? We are talking about my brother, aren’t we?”
“Picking wildflowers for me, taking me on a moonlit boat ride, lighting candles before he…” Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry. She crushed the unicorn to her chest and rocked, wishing it really had magical healing powers.
“Nathan did all that? Wow. I’m impressed.”
“I was too.” Tears leaked from the corners of her eyes and slid down her cheeks. “Why does he have to be so damn s-sweet and n-nice…and why am I such an idiot to f-fall for him?” Great hitching sobs ripped from her soul.
Val pulled the spit-up rag from her shoulder and handed it over. When that didn’t quell the torrent of tears, she wrapped her arms around Tate and the unicorn and let her cry. After what seemed like hours, Val smoothed her damp hair from her forehead. “Better?”
Another howl broke free. “N-no! I’ve never felt like this. God. I don’t know what to do.”
“I do,” Val muttered. She rooted for something on the end table and knocked an apple juice box to the carpet.
Horrified, Tate yanked the phone from Val’s grasp. “You can’t call him.”
“Why not?”
“Because I got the nostrings-attached sex, and he won the contest. We both ended up with what we wanted.”
Val’s sympathetic expression turned skeptical. “No matter that you ended up falling in love with him?”
“I didn’t mean to.”
“Does Nathan love you?”
Tate shrugged, wishing the toy-strewn floor would open up and swallow her.
“Oh my God.” Val slapped her own forehead. “Please don’t tell me that instead of asking him how he feels, or talking about this, or even fighting about it, you’re just gonna take off like nothing happened?”
“No,” Tate corrected quietly, feeling decidedly calmer. “I’m going back to Denver like I’d originally planned. My job and my family are there, Val, not here. I can’t change everything because I’ve rather stupidly fallen in love with a man who was supposed to be nothing more than a summer fling.”
“But—”
“But nothing.” Tate scooted forward to set the phone down and dislodged a squeaky ball with her heel. “Honestly, even if Nathan does have feelings for me, can you see him moving? He isn’t willing to sacrifice his work time here to be with me. I wouldn’t ask him to give up something he loves despite the crazy schedule he keeps. And we both know he’d never offer.”
“You aren’t giving him the choice,” Val argued. “If your career was as important to you as you’ve claimed, you wouldn’t have run back here in the first place. Think about that.”
Tate didn’t want to consider Val’s point. Maybe later, during the long drive, she’d dissect it. “I have. That’s why I’m going back to Colorado. How can I not give my career another fair shot? What if I change my life, move here to be with Nathan and realize that’s not what I want either? I’ve been so busy trying to please other people—my parents, my bosses—that I lost sight of the fact I need to make my own choices. Never again will I make a rash decision based on emotions and tears.”
“Aren’t you doing that now by leaving?”
“No. Leaving was in my original plan. Staying wasn’t.”
Val stared through her for several agonizing moments. “As long as we’re baring our souls, I’ll tell you”—Maddie wailed from the bassinet, but Val only spared her a cursory glance—“that I planned on setting you up with Nathan from day one. Except you were both damn resistant, so when opportunity presented itself, almost like karma…” Her brief smile was unexpectedly sad. “Do I feel guilty? No. Maybe it is selfish to want you and my brother to find the same kind of happiness that I share with Rich.”
“Not everyone is destined to have that happiness, Val. Look at Grace and Luke. They are both counselors, for God’s sake. It didn’t matter that they were wildly in love, or that they still are. It wasn’t enough. And if they can’t figure out a way to make a relationship work, then what hope is there for the rest of us?”
“There’s always hope. Make no mistake, Tate, being with you makes Nathan happy. I see it every time he looks at you. It’s mirrored in your eyes when you look at him. You fit him. And that’s not easy, because he’s not an easy man.”
“I know.” Tate shook her head. “I don’t see—”
“You wouldn’t. For years I’ve watched him dig himself deeper into his business. Nathan works too hard. You do too, I suspect.” Val paused, eyes bright. “You’re both missing out on the best thing in life. And contrary to what you might believe, it’s not mind-blowing orgasms.” Her voice softened. “It’s love.”
Tate passed the damp spit-up rag back to Val, lost for response. But she held tight to the stuffed animal.
“I think you and Nathan could strike a happy balance. I wish you’d try. If you put half the effort into a relationship that you’ve invested in your careers, it couldn’t fail. I wish I could tell Grace and Luke the same damn thing because it’s true for them too.”
Silence stretched between them with no clear resolution.
“I have to go.” Tate stood, gently placing the well-loved unicorn in the baby-doll cradle. “I didn’t want to leave without saying goodbye.”
“Will you at least think about what I’ve said?”
Choking back another wave of tears, Tate nodded. She doubted she’d think of anything else. “I’ll call you next week. Thanks for ev
erything.” She rushed from the cluttered room as quickly as possible without looking back.
And she didn’t stop crying until she’d hit Cheyenne.
That night Nathan cranked up the Dwight Yoakam CD and got rip-roaring drunk. Even Duke cowered in the corner, far away from his foul mood.
Alone again. Yippee. He tipped the Maker’s Mark whiskey bottle to his mouth, splashing a good portion on his grungy work coveralls. He hadn’t changed clothes. Why bother? He’d just get dirty again tomorrow, and the next day, and the day after that… Hell, everything seemed endless. Pointless.
His life was seriously fucked. Tate was gone. She’d bailed when he’d been on the phone and he’d been dumbfounded to find she’d blown town. He’d sure heard it from his little sister, who’d seen fit to leave three snotty messages on his voice mail. Val suggested that he get his shit together before he made a bigger ass of himself than he already had. For Val to utter such crude words and ban him from her home indefinitely, well, her being pissed was putting it mildly.
Women, he thought. Who needs them? His life had been great before Tate had waltzed into it with her sweetness, her sunshine smile, her surprisingly wicked ways.
He took another determined swig, embracing the alcohol’s burning sting. He was free. Free to get wild, free to romance the hell out of any woman that crossed his path. Why, he could go out and… He rubbed his forehead. And do what?
Nothing. Wasn’t that Tate’s entire point? Part of the reason she’d left? That he never did a damn thing besides work?
He scowled. When had that become a bad thing?
When it had become the only thing?
His life had revolved around jobsites, machinery and deadlines for as long as he could remember. He loved the freedom even when he admitted he didn’t take advantage of it.
Not once? Not ever?
That thought brought a fleeting moment of clarity.
Hey. What was the point of being his own boss if he adhered to a schedule that’d chased even the toughest young bucks from his employ?
Why hadn’t he made more time for life?
More importantly, why hadn’t he made more time for her?
Tate had made time for him. The million sweet ways she showed him she cared about him spun round in his brain until he felt dizzy from the implications, not the booze. How could such a little slip of a thing have wreaked so much havoc on his life?
Nathan slammed the whiskey bottle on the table. Goddammit, he was a gutless bastard. With all his pathetic attempts at romance, he hadn’t learned enough to tell Tate how he’d felt.
Why hadn’t he told her he loved her?
Tate had given him a priceless gift; she’d shown him the side of himself filled with passion. With fun. A man with the capacity to love to the point of pain. He’d felt safe with her. Happy. She’d wrapped love and acceptance around his heart like a cocoon.
And what had he given her in return? Besides orgasms that made her scream and award-winning landscaping that insured she’d leave?
His bleary-eyed gaze took in his meager furnishings and the cold impersonality of his home. Damned lonely place he lived in. No wonder he couldn’t stand being here.
Yep. He’d finally proven himself landscaping god to his peers and the world at large. He had the city contract, he had the qualifications. Hell, he even had a big fat check. Seemed he had everything he’d ever wanted.
Except he didn’t have Tate.
Why did he feel like he had nothing?
Nathan chugged another hit of liquid fire. The churning in his gut and the pain in his head were the only signs he hadn’t gone completely numb.
Maybe he should go after her. Demand she come back. He could change. He wanted to change. Wasn’t that what he’d tried to get across to her this morning? He needed to think of a plan. Luckily the whiskey seemed to clear things up a whole bunch.
His cell phone rang. He ignored it. Then it started ringing again.
Stumbling out the back door, he threw the ringing object against the concrete patio. Then he crushed the chunk that hadn’t exploded upon impact under his boot heel. Feeling decidedly calmer, he staggered back inside and knocked back another drink.
Male pride reared its ugly head with each additional shot.
Nathan’s thought processes began to blur. Pride, not love, was what got him into this mess. He’d damn well use it to get himself back out.
Even muddled by alcohol, he knew he deserved every second of his misery. And miserable didn’t begin to describe the horrors lurking in his soul and the paralyzing fear that he’d never see her again. He refused to bellow his rage; he’d seethe silently in misery. He’d finish the bottle of whiskey until he passed out, so he wouldn’t feel like part of him had died.
But the bottle was already empty.
So is your life.
For the first time in years, Nathan LeBeau laid his head on the table and wept.
One month later…
Nathan hadn’t even stepped foot off the welcome mat in Val’s grand hallway when he demanded, “Where is she?”
“Sleeping.” Val plunked herself directly in front of him. She used her free hand like a school crossing guard to ward him off. “And don’t think you’re gonna go charging in there like some renegade bear and wake Tate up. She’s exhausted.”
“Running will do that to you,” he said through clenched teeth. He could not believe that Tate was here, less than a hundred feet away and he still couldn’t get to her. Couldn’t see her. Couldn’t talk to her. Couldn’t touch her.
Val poked him in the chest. “Back off. How did you find out she was in town?”
Nathan’s jaw tightened further, and he glanced away.
“Oh no you don’t, buster. I know that look. You’re hiding something. Either spill it right now, or I’ll shove your sorry butt right back out the door.”
“Yeah?” He knew his belligerent tone wasn’t helping matters any, but he didn’t care. “You and what army?”
“Have it your way.” She shrugged. “My house, my rules. If you don’t follow my rules, you don’t get to see her.”
He threatened, and then pleaded—all to no avail. Val wouldn’t budge. She tormented him with that cocky half smile that had driven him nuts his whole life. She had the upper hand, and she knew he knew it.
Time to change tactics.
“You think you’re so clever,” he sneered. “I’ll bet even you don’t know why she’s back in town.”
That comment offended know-everything Val, which he’d expected. “I certainly do. There’s some problem with a potential buyer—” She clapped a hand over her mouth before she used it to whap him on the arm. “That was sneaky.”
His little sister had no idea of the sneaky lengths he’d gone to get Tate back in his life. He inhaled, willing himself to remain calm, hoping his whole world wasn’t about to crumble around him like a cave-in at the jobsite. “Here’s the truth. I contacted the Realtor. Fed her a bogus story about meeting the owner in person before I put a bid on the house.”
“Nathan Francis LeBeau!” Val gasped, clutching the baby in her arms to her heart. “Why would you do such a thing?”
“Because I’m desperate! I’ll buy the damn house if it means that much to her. I’ve been trying to get a hold of her for three weeks.” Angrily, he thrust his hand through his hair. “She won’t talk to me, you won’t talk to me. This is a fucking nightmare.”
She scowled at his language. “How did you find her?”
“Some new secretary in her office let it slip that Tate had quit without giving notice. Evidently that caused quite a clusterfu—” Val cleared her throat and Nathan amended, “an uproar. They wouldn’t give me any more information. I kept calling her parents’ house and getting no answer. Then I realized I’d written down the wrong damn number.”
He kneaded the back of his neck to stave off the impending headache. “When I finally got the right phone number, they forwarded the call to her brother Ryan. He acte
d like I was some psycho stalker. I had to give him my name, address, social security number, phone number and military history so he could run a check before he’d even talk to me. I just got off the phone with him and he informed me she’d come back to Spearfish. Then about ten minutes later, the Realtor called and left your phone number as Tate’s contact information.” He glared at his sister. “Jesus, Val. I can’t believe you didn’t call me.”
“She asked me not to.”
“For God’s sake, I’m your brother!”
“Yeah? And that’s the reason I didn’t track you down and kill you last month.” Val gave him a disdainful once-over. “At this point I don’t know who I’m angrier with. You or myself.”
“Not at her, though?”
“No. It is not her fault that you are such a flaming idiot.” Val smoothed the fuzz on Maddie’s tiny head. “I never would’ve introduced you to her if I’d known you weren’t being up front with me. Romance? Instead of nostrings-attached sex? Gee, Nathan, I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.”
“See?” He resisted his usual urge to cuff her lightly on the arm, since she was holding the baby. “If I’d told you from the start I wanted a romance, you would’ve made fun of me until my dying day.”
Val had the grace to look abashed. “But you lied to me.”
“Lied? No. Stretched the painful truth maybe.” He stared at the dust covering his work boots. “When you told me about Tate and her lack of sexual experience, I figured it was a perfect opportunity to try to become the kind of romantic man all women want. Maybe if I could be that, I could have a real relationship not based on sex.”
“I am sorry.” Val peered at him intently. “You do realize that there is no cut-and-dried formula for romance?”
Nathan kicked at a Cheerio imbedded in the rug. “Even if I had found one, I sure couldn’t make it work.”
“And it doesn’t change anything with Tate.”
He met her sympathetic gaze. “It changes everything, Val. I want to spend the rest of my life with her.”
The weight of his confession hung in the air-conditioned room. Val measured him coolly. “Why would she want to spend her life with you?”
Dirty Deeds: Standalone sexy romance Page 24