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“That’s funny. Lucy just called and asked me to make the popcorn balls and trail mix without her. Looks like we’re both getting put to work tonight.”
Nate froze halfway to the small kitchen, his back to her. She watched his broad shoulders raise and lower with his deep breaths, and the crinkle of the bag handles in his hands was the only sound in the quiet apartment. “Lucy’s not coming tonight?” When he turned to face her, his face had tightened harder than his fists. Was Lucy’s absence something that irritated him? If anyone should have been irritated, it should have been her. She was the one who had to make three dozen popcorn balls by herself, after all.
“No.” She walked to him, taking the bags from his hands as he stared blankly into the kitchen. She pulled out a couple boxes of popcorn and cans of peanuts from the bag. “She said something about a looming cover deadline.”
“Ha!” he barked, the forced laughter echoing through the tiny apartment, despite the large area rug she’d added that Eric claimed would keep the echoing to a minimum.
“What’s so funny?” she asked, failing to see the humor in this situation.
He shook his head as he rubbed his chin. It was a nervous habit of his, she’d noticed. Something he always did when he first cut a new client or was forced to make small talk with one of hers at the front desk. “My brother told me he couldn’t come over tonight because they had a dinner with Lucy’s boss and that I was supposed to stay and help you with something because last time you tried this, you started a fire.”
“Almost,” she stressed, crossing her arms over her chest. “Ialmoststarted a fire. Besides, that was years ago—when we were both in college.” She rolled her eyes as she shook her head. “Gosh, you accidentally hit thirty minutes instead of three on the microwave and char the popcorn a little one time, and it’s all anyone can remember.” Okay, that lump of stuff had been looking atcharredin the rearview mirror, but Nate didn’t need to know that. “But the big takeaway is that there was no flame.” Justa lotof smoke. “People need to get their facts straight.”
“I concur. Like my brother and your cousin, for instance.”
“What?”
He leveled her with a stare and put his hands on his hips. “They lied to us, Stella.”
“Oh yeah…that.” She thought back to the phone call, Lucy’s chirpiness making a little more sense now as the pieces clicked into place. Wait…was Nathan the “perfect guy” Lucy had in mind for her? “Do you think they’re setting us up?”
Nathan’s head reared back, his jaw dropping so low it almost touched the collar of his shirt. “No way,” he responded like Stella had suggested his brother and her cousin were actually aliens sent from another planet to destroy Earth.
Obviously, her cousin had put on some serious rose-colored, heart-shaped glasses here, because Nathan was all wrong for her. Her eyes roamed over his broad chest and the jeans he looked like he’d been poured into. She’d always envied the natural wave to his dark hair, the way it always looked so effortlessly styled, though she knew he never did anything to it. He came in one day out of the pouring rain, and within the hour, he’d gone from drowned rat to Hollywood-heartthrob status.
But that was it. There was nothing else about him that saidperfect bachelor for Stella.Unless she thought about the times he’d stayed after work with her to count inventory, long after everyone else had gone home. Or when he’d swooped in to help lift bins to the overhead shelving in her office. And the way he’d agreed to come over tonight on his night off to help her with something, though he had no idea what that something was. But it was something she noticed, because when she thought of all those wonderful things about him…well, whynotNate?
Her stomach fluttered and flopped, a lot like it had when he’d stared at her while she put her frozen dinner on his face last night. But she’d been worried about him then. So, what was the reason now? That she was concerned he was wasting his time here tonight? And then something hit her. “Your face.”
His brows scrunched to the center of his forehead as he looked at her. There wasn’t a trace of last night’s injury anywhere to be seen. “What about it?”
She threw a bag of the popcorn into the microwave—careful to not set the timer for a half hour—and took one step toward him, her eyes fixed on his face. Her fluffy slippers scooted across the tile floor. Had she known she was having company tonight, she would have opted for something besides her oversized sweatshirt and leggings paired with slippers that looked like they were crafted from genuine Muppet fur. Only, shewasexpecting company tonight—Lucy. This outfit had been fine for hangingout with Lucy, so why did she suddenly want to change now that Nathan was here? This was ridiculous. She had much bigger mysteries to solve at the moment.
Standing toe to slipper with him, she moved her face closer, not quite believing what she saw—or, in this case, didn’t see. “You’re healed.”
He leaned back, shaking his head. When he’d stood in the doorway, she’d noticed the cold air had nibbled on his cheeks, making them the softest shade of pink. Now, his skin was as white as the ghost cookie jar on the kitchen island. “It was nothing.”
But there’d been blood. Lots of it. And his nose was swollen even before she’d stuffed the tampons in it. There was even a tiny cut across his cheek where her ring had gouged him. “It wasn’t nothing. How did you…?” Her hand rose to his face before she even knew what was happening. The pad of her thumb brushed his skin where the gash had been, and he jerked his head back.
“I’m sorry.” She pulled her hand down like she’d touched fire and gotten burned. “Did I hurt you?”
“No,” he answered, his voice as gruff as the stubble on his face. “It didn’t hurt. I just did what you said…with the ice. That, uh…worked really well.”
I’ll say. There was literally no sign that she’d punched him less than twenty-four hours ago. And she was sure of that, what with the way she’d been staring at him in the last few minutes, noting every faint line, every fleck of gold floating in his chestnut-colored irises. And dang, there was that weird feeling in her stomach. Maybe it was time to lay off those frozen dinners she always ate. They were obviously wrecking her digestive system.
Beep. Beep. Beep.
“Well, I should probably let you go,” she said, backing away from him and turning to check on the popcorn. The smoke detectors weren’t beeping, so this was already going better than the last time. As for the fire spreading through her entire body, well that was another story.
He walked into the kitchen with long, slow strides, the clunk of his lug-soled boots following her to the kitchen island where he stood and looked at her. When he placed his hands on the counter and leaned forward, she swallowed hard because…when had he rolled up his sleeves? And why had his forearms never looked like this at the salon? It must have been the lighting in her apartment. A new kind of mood lighting. Something they didn’t have at the salon, because she would have noticed two Christmas hams with hands at the ends. And wow, that was a strange visual. Though, they did look juicy.
“I told Eric I’d help you, and I don’t break promises.” He said it with such authority. Not in a bossy way. In fact, she was confident if she told him to leave, he would. Except, she didn’t really want him to leave. Not just him, though. She just didn’t want to be alone. Would she have felt the same if Mrs. Nesbitt from across the hall had offered to make popcorn balls with her tonight? No comment. But Nate was a hard worker. Of course she’d want him to help her tonight. And as she looked at the ingredients spread out on the kitchen island, she knew she would take all the help she could get.
“That’s sweet of you to want to stay.”
“Don’t make the mistake of thinking I’m something I’m not.” The slight edge to his voice sliced through the air.
“Do you have something against the word sweet? Or against sweets in general? Don’t tell me you don’t like candy.” She watched his lips twitch, and her insides bubbled like champagne. It was a personal challenge of hers, getting this serious and brooding man to smile once in a while. She didn’t rememberhow it started—probably from her desire to make everyone happy. All she knew was the little smirks and half-smiles she got from him were as delicious as the chocolate chips she plucked off the pumpkin bread from Mountain Brew. She always ate them first because she believed every meal should begin with chocolate—even dessert.
