“I love it!” She peered inside at the bucket seats and stick shift. “What kind of car is it?”
“It’s a nineteen sixty-eight Camaro Super Sport. Fully loaded. Brand-new, high-performance motor.” He spoke like a proud father. “She’s taken first place at several car shows.”
Natalie noticed that he used a female pronoun for the car. “Does she have a name?”
“Cathy.”
Cathy. Natalie patted the hood. “What happened to the Road Runner you were driving last night?” The one with the big backseat.
“Rhonda,” he said, still trying to find a signal. “She’s in the garage.”
Rhonda and Cathy. “Are there more?”
“Yeah. I have a Mustang and a Firebird.”
“Do you also have all of The Fast and Furious movies, too?”
He gave her a scowl but not a denial.
She pointed at him. “You do!” She leaned against the fender and laughed.
He made a face at her. “Let me use your phone.”
“Give me your keys,” she said as she handed over her phone.
“Why do you want my keys?” He dug them out of his jeans.
She gave her head a toss to the side, flinging her blond hair. “Moi wants to see the inside of the divine car.” She did her best Miss Piggy imitation, which he didn’t seem to get. “You remember Miss Piggy from the Muppets? She was my favorite. Of course, I loved Kermit, too.”
“Okay.” He took her phone and walked away.
While he stood in the shade of the pavilion and called the hospital, Natalie settled herself into the Camaro’s driver’s seat. The dust-free dash was black, with wood grain trim, simple round gauges, a radio with control knobs, and a stick shift in the console. The leather seats and floorboard were immaculate, as though the car had just rolled off the assembly line. The only time she had a car this clean was the moment she drove it out of the detail shop.
“He takes good care of you,” she said to the car. Since the seat was adjusted for Brett’s height, she had to extend her arms to hold the steering wheel. “I bet you’d be fun to drive.”
She glanced at Brett, who was all business as he talked on the phone. Lines creased his brow as he appeared to be doing some serious thinking. He paced between picnic tables, and she checked out the movement of his lean hips.
“You’re lucky, Cathy. You should see your owner. He’s got such a fine body.” She continued to admire him the way she admired the guys featured in the Sexiest Man of the Year issue of People.
She tapped the steering wheel, thinking about what he’d said. You have a pretty face.
“I don’t know why that should matter,” she said. “The two of us. That’s like a bad joke. He’s trying to get that position at the hospital, and I’ve sworn off using guys for sex.” She thought of Jackson, who had perished in the bombing. “That always ends badly.”
She glanced up and saw Brett striding toward the car. The sunlight gave his dark hair warm highlights as he put on a pair of sunglasses. With a sigh, she told Cathy, “Sometimes it’s damn hard to be good.”
She climbed out of the Camaro and exchanged the keys for her phone. “She’s a gorgeous car.”
He beamed. “Yeah, she’s a beauty. I’d give you a ride, but I’ve gotta go back to the hospital and check on a patient.”
She stroked Cathy’s front fender. Feeling a bit rambunctious, she turned to him. “You want to make a bet about tonight? About whether or not you can charm Nana? If you lose, you turn over this car to me for a couple of weeks.”
“No way,” he retorted. “Nobody drives any of the girls but me.”
“The girls?” Natalie repeated. “And I thought I was messed up.”
He grinned as he placed his hand on the fender, beside where she stood. “I’m not messed up. I’m a collector.” He motioned to her vehicle. “You’ve got a new Lexus.”
“Yes, but it’s kind of boring.” She wrinkled her nose. “Whereas Cathy is a totally sexy car. I’d love to cruise around in her. Talk about a man magnet.”
“No.” He shot her a heated frown. “She is not a man magnet or a toy. She’s a classic car. You don’t just drive around in a car like this.”
“You do.”
“Cars have to be driven occasionally, and I drive the girls on the weekends. Not every day.”
“I’ll take care of Cathy,” she promised, patting the fender. “We’re already friends.”
“No.” He took a hard line. “Besides, how do I know you’d play fair? You could tilt things in your favor when it comes to your grandmother.”
“I’m not going to do that.”
He toyed with the car keys. “What do I get if I win?”
“Good question.” She contemplated with her arms folded. An irresistible thought hit her mind. When you knew you were going to win, you could afford a wild bet. “Sex in the backseat of the Road Runner. How about that?”
After he had passed a speechless moment, he said, “Are you serious?”
“I don’t make bets lightly.” She shrugged. “And I know my grandmother. This bet is a sure thing for me.”
“You’ll eat those words. Just wait and see.”
“If you make this bet, I’m gonna be driving this car.” She smiled. “All over town.”
He moved in close. His body blocked the crisp breeze, filling her space with warmth and the scent of faded aftershave, leather, and something definitely masculine. It was enough to make a girl reconsider the promises she’d made herself.
Especially when the little glow that had sparked to life when he showed up this morning started to shine hot, reminding her that it had been a long time since that fateful night before the bombing when she and her lover had made the bed rock. She crossed her ankles as the ache inside her flourished beneath his gaze.
She wet her lips. “You want to shake on it?”
He grinned slowly as he took off his sunglasses. “Why don’t we kiss on it?”
Her mind was screaming not to go there, but sometimes you had to go there because it was what you really wanted to do. She wanted to kiss Brett. When she was sixteen, back when she didn’t know how to kiss, she had fantasized about kissing him. Now she definitely knew how to kiss, and here he was in real life. Hers for the taking. How could she refuse such a daring opportunity?
She anchored her arms around his neck and leaned into him, absorbing the undercurrent of something unspoken and denied that was flowing between them. He angled his head, and their lips met. There was no testing uncharted territory as their mouths locked together.
Natalie loved the boldness of a heated kiss. She splayed her fingers in his hair as she teased his bottom lip with her tongue, and his grip on her back tightened, crushing her to him. She settled against him like she belonged there, and she looked into his eyes, all gold and green and full of fire. Her pulse clamored.
Even a Type A, succeed-or-die personality could be waylaid by desire. With her mouth just a breath from his, she said, “I’m not a brilliant girl, but I have other talents.” Then she caught his lips with hers, and she heard him groan as their mouths coupled. It was only the need for air that ended the kiss.
Her lips brushed across his neck in a sigh. She glanced over his shoulder, and she was surprised to see a couple of small girls, dressed in scouting outfits and sitting on bikes, watching them. Natalie squirmed. “Let me go,” she whispered. “There’s a couple of Brownies watching us.”
“What?” He let out a long breath and turned as she smoothed her hands over her clothes. He waved at the Brownies, who started giggling. They took off, pedaling toward the parking lot entrance where the rest of their troop, all on bikes, had arrived.
Brett remained leaning against the Camaro, his hair a mess now and his expression unsettled.
What a great pinup that would have made, Natalie mused.
She moved toward the Lexus. “Six forty-five,” she reminded him of the time he needed to arrive for dinner. “Nana won’t be happy
if you’re late.”
“I won’t be late,” he said in a husky voice as he climbed in the Camaro.
The motor in the Camaro rumbled low, like a lion wanting to be unleashed. Excited, she flashed Brett a big smile as she pointed at the car. He swung the sporty vehicle near the Lexus and let down the window.
“Make sure she’s got a full tank of gas,” she teased.
He shook his head as he gripped the gearshift. “Make sure you limber up,” he called over the growl of the motor. All the Brownies and their troop leaders stopped to watch the blazing red car soar away.
Natalie watched, too. I want that car. She wanted the guy, too.
But some wants were impractical.
Chapter 7
A U-shaped drive curved in front of the Castle House, where the entrance had a flagstone walkway leading from the driveway up three sections of tiered steps to the portico. A pot of gold mums decorated each step, and a large fall wreath hung on the front door. The lawn and shrubs were always manicured, and at night, spotlights lit up the front of the mansion so passersby could appreciate the beauty of its pearl-gray façade.
Natalie stopped her vehicle as she turned into the driveway and took a moment to admire the house that her ancestors had built. Turrets topped with crenellation flanked either side of the stone house and featured arched windows of stained glass. She loved the Juliet balcony on the front.
Her mother had loved this house, too. It had stood to reason that since she had married Ted Layton, someday the Castle House would be her home. That was not to be. Sadness crowded into Natalie’s heart. Camelot never ends well, Mom.
To the right of the U-shaped drive was a road that led to the back of the house, where there was a parking area, garage, and walkway to the rear entrance. What was once a butler’s pantry now served as a mudroom through which the family came and went. Dutifully, Natalie wiped her feet on the mat before she entered the kitchen.
Unlike the exterior of the house, which harked back to the Middle Ages, the white kitchen was contemporary, with stainless-steel appliances and granite countertops. Natalie had been surprised when she had first arrived. The kitchen she recalled from her childhood was much smaller. The old kitchen and breakfast room, plus a sitting room and storage area, had been gutted and renovated into a spacious, inviting area with yellow tile floors, white cabinets, Priscilla curtains, and two cheerful yellow chandeliers.
Across from a new bar with stools was a large informal dining area where the family congregated for their daily meals and conversation. The wide golden oak table could seat six people in matching ladder-back chairs, and the bay window let in plenty of light, plus its padded seat was Pharaoh’s favorite place to sun himself.
Natalie was not surprised to find her grandmother at the table in the breakfast room with the newspaper. Pharaoh lay on the padded seat in the bay window, grooming himself, and her great-aunt Clara was at the kitchen island, elbow-deep in flour and happy. At the bar, an elderly black woman, dressed in a navy business suit, was saying how she and Clara needed to open a restaurant.
“Hello, Natalie,” Anna acknowledged her. A delicate china cup held a brew made from herbal tea that Anna had concocted herself. No one else would drink it. “Did you enjoy your trip to the waterfall?”
More than I should have. “Yes, I did. I think I got some great pictures.” She put her camera case and her backpack on the bar.
“Natalie, this is our friend Eldora Bingham Lewis,” Clara introduced Natalie to the black woman in the business suit. “Eldora runs a bakery downtown.”
“Natalie is Ted’s daughter,” Anna put in. “She’s been living in London for several years, but she’s home now.”
As Natalie shook Eldora’s hand, she thought about how Anna always implied she was home to stay, even though she had made it clear to her grandmother that she wasn’t home for good. “It’s a pleasure to meet you,” she said to Eldora.
“Oh, my.” Eldora patted her hand. “Look at that smile. Just like Anna.”
Anna preened the way grandparents did when someone told them their grandchildren resembled them. “Natalie has the Layton smile, but she got her pretty blue eyes from her beautiful mother. Susan would be so proud of her.”
Natalie gave Anna an affectionate glance. Anna had never kept it a secret that she thought of Natalie’s mother, Susan, as her own daughter. In all these years, that had not changed.
“Are you hungry, dear?” Clara loved to feed people. “I’ve got a pot of chili on the stove, and there are hot rolls in the warmer.” Clara made rolls that melted in your mouth.
“I can’t keep Clara’s cookies in the store,” Eldora said. Two large cookie boxes were stacked on the bar beside her. “The moment I put them on the shelf, they are gone.”
“Her cookies are the best.” Natalie walked across the kitchen. “I’ll get some of the chili later, Aunt Clara.” Underneath a glass dome was a platter of brownies. Some things were irresistible. She thought of Brett as she took a bite.
“Can you make banana pudding, Aunt Clara?” She smiled to herself as she remembered the day she had dumped the bowl of banana pudding on Brett’s head. One of life’s great moments.
“Of course,” Clara answered. “Would you like to have some banana pudding?”
“I have a friend who loves banana pudding.” She retrieved a bottle of water from the refrigerator. “I’ve invited him to join us for dinner tonight if that’s all right.”
“He?” Clara and Anna said in unison.
“Yes, he’s an old friend from high school. We graduated together. I ran into him at the hospital—”
“What were you doing at the hospital?” Anna cut in.
Natalie chugged down some water. “I was there yesterday with Uncle Harry. Sorta taking a tour,” she lied with a shrug. “You know, it doesn’t look anything like the old hospital. It’s so much bigger now.” She should not have mentioned the hospital.
“They have spent a fortune on that place,” Eldora said with a shake of her head. “You’d think they’ve got money to burn, and you still have to wait forever.”
“Our Sunday school teacher had to wait for four hours in the emergency room last week,” Clara said. “She thought she was having a heart attack. They said it was indigestion.”
“She probably had a heart attack.” Anna took a sip of her tea. “That place is overrun with quacks.”
Uh oh. Natalie attempted to head off a disaster. “I’m certain the doctors do their best. I found that to be true when I was in the hospital.”
“Natalie, darling, you were in a superb hospital in Paris, and they have some of the finest physicians in Europe there. It’s another story in this town. They’re all quacks, and Lorraine’s husband, Neal, he’s the head quack.”
Natalie drew a blank. She had no idea what to say in response.
Eldora started up. “And all those calls from the agency that does their billing.” Eldora waved a hand in the air. “I have never in all my life. I practically had to cuss one of those billing people out.”
“It takes forever to get your insurance filed right.” Clara searched in the cabinet. “I know I have some vanilla wafers someplace. Natalie, you’ll need to go to the store and get some fresh bananas later on this afternoon.”
“Sure.” Natalie tried to derail the conversation about the hospital. “What else do you need to make the banana pudding?”
Clara pulled a box of vanilla wafers out of the cabinets. “Here we go. I won’t need anything but the bananas.”
Anna held her teacup. “And this classmate of yours, Natalie, who is he?”
She cleared her throat. “His name is Brett Harris.” Natalie decided not to announce that he was a doctor at this time. “I’m dying to know what’s happened with our classmates since graduation, so I thought it would be fun to have him over so we could catch up.”
“Brett Harris.” Eldora mulled over the name. “Sounds familiar. Isn’t that the heart doctor? The young one.”
/> “He’s a doctor?” Anna frowned. “A heart doctor?”
Before Eldora could say something—like he was totally incompetent—Natalie gasped. “That is such a beautiful ring!” She pointed to the diamond-and-ruby ring on Eldora’s finger. “That ruby is just absolutely stunning.”
“Thank you, honey. This was my fortieth wedding anniversary present. I just about had a fit when I saw it.”
“I would have, too.” Natalie raked back her hair as Clara admired Eldora’s ring. “I think I’m going to go prowl in the attic for a while. Maybe I’ll find something to wear tonight.” The cedar-lined attic in the Castle House was a treasure trove of vintage clothes from both sides of Natalie’s family, along with all kinds of other old things. It fascinated her.
“Everything up there is yours,” Anna said. “Take whatever you want, dear.”
She gave her grandmother a kiss on the forehead before she left the room. “Love you, Nana.”
In the attic, she debated on sending Brett a message saying something like “It’s all over but the crying,” which would sum things up perfectly. What had her uncle and her great-aunt been thinking? Surely, Nana had expressed her views about the hospital and the doctors to them.
Natalie sat in a rocking chair. The attic was spacious, spanning the entire top of the house. It was unlike any other attic that Natalie had ever seen. It had one large center room and smaller rooms on either side. Cedar lined the walls, and the eight-foot ceiling provided plenty of headroom.
Light poured in from dormer windows in the roof and from the arched windows in the towers that flanked the front of the house. The oil heater still worked; in an early era, the attic had provided housing for the house servants.
Now it was where artifacts from the past generations of her family were stored. One entire room was devoted to the inventions of her great-grandfather, Sam Layton Sr. He was known as Sam Senior. He had passed away before she was born, and she didn’t know much about him except that he had left behind a room full of impractical gadgets.
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