Tell Me You Crave Me Page 4

  “The church they booked got flooded, along with the reception hall. Terrible storm. So they’re moving everything here to Beaufort.”

  Oh crap…

  Now Natalie was going to be around her big brother and his gorgeous fiancée and likely all her equally gorgeous friends, and her mother wanted to set her up on the world’s worst date for the whole event.

  “Mom, I’ll help with the wedding and all, but I’m not going with Harrison. He’s my cousin, for Christ’s sake.”

  “Watch your mouth,” Lemon-Anne snapped. “And he’s your second cousin by marriage. Not blood-related so it’s fine.”

  Nothing about this was fine. It was humiliating. Because she knew, one way or another, her mother would get her way. The whole town would show up, and Natalie would once again be the weird ugly duckling of the otherwise prestigious St. Clair family. No, no, this could not happen.

  “I have a date,” Natalie lied. But it was the best she could come up with.

  Her mother’s perfectly penciled brows lifted. “Oh?” she smiled. “Who?”

  “Well, ah…” She glanced over her shoulder toward the back room and thanked God East was still hidden behind the closed door. “I mean, I have some prospects of dates. I’m sure one will be perfect.”

  If looks could kill, Lemon-Anne’s could sting, burn, and bludgeon. Natalie knew that expression. She was assessing, looking for a weak point in Natalie’s plan—her lie, that is. Thankfully, her mother finally gave a tight nod. “Well, in that case, go on your dates, but if you don’t have a suitable man on your arm come the rehearsal dinner, then I’m calling Harrison.”

  And Harrison would show up, and Natalie would have to repeat the traumatizing experience of her junior prom all over again.

  “I’ll have a date, Mom.”

  Her mother smiled, and Natalie tried not to let it hurt that her mother placed so much value on the man—theoretical or not—in her life that it overshadowed Natalie as an individual. But she’d deal with that later. For now, she just needed her mother off her back, and then to get East the hell out of here and figure out how she was going to come up with “suitable date material” in two weeks.

  “I look forward to hearing all about your time, dear.”

  With a light pat on her cheek, her mother left. Natalie closed the door and took a deep breath. She had to open her shop in an hour, and she was a mess, and now she was in deep shit to boot.

  A door creaked open behind her, and she turned to see Easton. He was in nothing but low-slung jeans, resting his strong arm against the doorframe.

  Her mouth instantly watered at the sight. The morning light was the man’s friend, and between the rumpled hair she’d had her hands in last night, and the steely abs and the open belt hanging on some seriously cut hips, she couldn’t help but squeeze her knees together.

  “So that was your mom,” he said.

  “Yeah.”

  He shook his head. “Too close for comfort.” He looked down at himself. “Shit. I have to get out of here.”

  Of course he had to get out of there. But they hadn’t even talked about last night, what it meant that they’d crossed that boundary and entered forbidden territory. Maybe it was better that way—to not talk about it at all and just forget it had ever happened.

  “Good luck with your mom, darlin’,” he said.

  So now that they were in the light of day, she was back to “darlin’” and no longer “baby.”

  Probably because we’re no longer in the throes of passion, idiot.

  Not that she was thinking about last night or anything.

  “Nothing I can’t handle,” she said with fake confidence and took a step toward him. “Besides, you don’t have a date, either, and it turns out Matt is moving the wedding to Beaufort.”

  He shrugged. “No problem for me. I like to keep my options open. Usually I take home a hot bridesmaid.”

  She tried really hard not to grit her teeth at that. She didn’t care what East did. And obviously he’d take someone home. He always did. And any pang of jealousy she felt about that would have to die a quick death. She could feel the wall of “Little Natalie” vs “Playboy East” back between them.

  Must be nice being a guy with options and not a grown woman with a mother hell-bent on marrying her off. Worse, East now knew all about her problem. Great, just great. The arrogant pain in her ass—currently looking way too good without a shirt on—was probably thinking about all the city girls coming into town. And given that he was Matt’s best man, he’d likely hook up with at least one bridesmaid, if not the entire frickin’ gaggle of them.

  Not that she cared.

  Whatever happened last night was over.

  It never should have happened, and maybe if she tried real hard, she could pretend that the one passionate experience of her life had been with someone else. She’d look back on this memory and try to picture anyone other than East.

  She watched him search for his discarded shirt, and his muscles rippled with every movement…

  Fat chance of fantasizing about a guy hotter than him.

  “So you’re going to the wedding alone and I’m—”

  “Going with a date it sounds like. One way or another,” he finished for her and winked. Yep, he’d heard the whole conversation. “Better get on it then, darlin’. It’s slim pickin’s in these parts.”

  Didn’t she know it? But it was clear East wasn’t going to help her. Why would he? He’d never helped her find a good date. No, but he’d always delighted in pointing out when she was on a bad date. And now, after last night, after he’d shown her what she was missing and what she needed, he had the nerve to tell her to look elsewhere. Like it was so easy to find someone who knew how to push her buttons like he did.

  For her own sanity, she had to address last night at least once, and set a boundary so she could officially go back to really, really hating him. She needed him far away and out of her system, because him simply standing there was irritating and turning her on all at the same time.

  Not a good combo considering that she now knew what that level of sexual animosity erupted into. A messy cake shop, a ruined dress, and some seriously hot memories she’d never forget.

  Focus! East equals bad.

  “Look, with the wedding being moved here and my brother coming into town,” she started, “I think it’s best we just keep our distance.”

  He frowned and looked at her like she’d just spoken in a language he didn’t understand. But finally he said, “Fine.”

  Why was he being huffy? Wasn’t he the one who’d said he needed to get out of there ASAP?

  “What’s your problem?”

  He finally found the rest of his clothes. He dusted off his hands, picked up his shirt, and yanked it over his impressive chest and abs. What she’d give to see those abs for one more second…

  “No problem,” he said, then grabbed his Stetson and tapped the brim after properly placing it on his head. “Just time to get on with my day.”

  “Wow, with morning-after lines like that, it’s hard to see why you’re still single.”

  “First of all, I don’t do morning-after lines. The lines come the night before.” He took a step toward her and faced her straight on. His belt was still unfastened, and the slight jingling of the clasp when he walked made her wet. God, she was pathetic.

  “Second.” He held up two fingers for reference, as if she were a moron. “I’m happy being single. Getting tied to one woman seems…”

  “Awkward?” she finished for him.

  He looked her up and down, and nothing about the heat in his eyes matched his words. It was like he was looking at her in the way he had last night. In a way no one else had ever looked at her—like she was sexy.

  Too bad. Because no matter what kind of heat was in East’s eyes, that passion couldn’t survive outside what had happened last night.

  He shook his head. “Not awkward. Stifling.”

  “Well, God forbid the great E
aston Ambrose hang up his bachelor badge and settle down.”

  “It’d be a crying shame,” he said with a wink, and came right up to her and kissed her cheek, hard. Not like a lover. Not like they’d gone crazy on each other’s bodies last night. Nope. Like she was a kid again. Like the baby sister of his best buddy. “Hearts would break all over North Carolina,” he teased as he made his way toward the door. He hadn’t even mentioned her brother, but it was an issue. It had to be. It was all part of the big damn elephant in the room that he seemed intent on not even acknowledging.

  East was playing it casual, cool, like she was nothing more than a friend. Not another lover, not another woman, not even a one-night stand. Just a buddy. And that boiled her blood more than anything.

  “Indeed,” she called after him. “What with your big reputation of satisfying the ladies, it would sure be a shame if word spreads that you’re really not up to par…”

  He glanced at her, and she gave him a pinky wave just to prove her point. Yeah, she was making a joke about his manhood, and she was maybe even being bratty, and she didn’t quite know why, but she pushed his buttons anyway. And this button was one he took seriously.

  He turned that perfect, casually strutting, ass back around and stared her down.

  “You threatening me, little girl?” he whispered, lips just above hers.

  “Whatever do you mean? Women talk, you know.”

  “Not you,” he said quickly. “Because if your brother finds out that we—”

  “Oh! So last night did happen after all?” She smiled with victory. At least she’d gotten him to acknowledge her, which she’d count as a win.

  “Of course it happened. Look, last night was…well, it was unexpected. But I figure we’re good now. Not going to happen again, and no reason for anyone to know.”

  “Why? Because you’re ashamed?” That last question came out softer than she’d meant it to.

  He frowned hard. “No. Yes. Damn it, I mean you’re Matt’s sister. Your parents are basically my only family, and I’m not fucking with that.”

  “But you fucked me.”

  “Yeah, and I shouldn’t have. So can we just go back to being family? Or friends? Or whatever the fuck we are?”

  “Sure,” she said, hating to agree but knowing as well as he did that he was right.

  He grinned. “Hey, you have some dates to schedule before you end up kissing cousins with ol’ Harry-boy.”

  God, don’t remind me.

  “Fine, this is our secret.” And that was fine with her. She didn’t need any more drama from her mother or brother. She knew how much East valued her family, because they were his family. She’d never want to take that from him.

  But there was a flash of something serious in his eyes when he’d asked her not to tell. Like he was afraid of what losing her family might do to him. Like it’d hurt him…or ruin him.

  With a final look down her body, he took a deep breath, and just for a moment she thought he might be struggling to pull himself away. “See ya around, darlin’.”

  She nodded. Yeah. She would see him around. And she’d be forced to remember that the irritating son of a bitch had given her a taste of the no-excuses kind of passion she’d been looking for. If she knew what was good for her, she’d avoid him like the plague until this itch for him went away. Because a woman only had so much willpower. And if she didn’t stay away from him, she’d make another mistake she couldn’t take back.

  Chapter Three

  What the fuck was I thinking?

  East walked into the local search and rescue office. It’d taken an extra-long shower this morning to get all the frosting off, and he still was pretty sure he smelled like vanilla…and like Natalie.

  He scratched his head and pulled the back of his hair hoping the sting of pain would get it through his thick skull that he’d fucked up. But that sting only reminded him of how last night Natalie had yanked on the same strands while he was buried inside her.

  Jesus, he needed to get a damn grip.

  What the hell had come over him? Natalie was Matt’s sister. She’d been the runt and an annoying fixture since they were all kids. She was beyond off-limits, to say the least. And not only had he fucked her last night, he’d fucked her hard. Repeatedly. And she’d fucked him back.

  “It was the dress,” he said as he made his way to the small table in the corner where the coffee pot was. “Yep, just the dress,” he decided.

  Because he sure as shit had never once looked twice at her in the past. Not when she’d stood behind the counter and frosted cupcakes while absently biting her plump bottom lip and quietly humming to herself. He’d never even looked twice on the occasions when she’d walked through Honey’s bar in that damn pair of jeans she had that hugged her ass perfectly, while her thick ponytail swung with every stride. And he’d certainly never thought of pulling that ponytail while he bent her over and fucked her from behind.

  Nope. Not. Once. Not ever had he ever had any of those fantasies.

  But her and that dress, and that need she was radiating, were too much to deny. Because Natalie had been needing a man. And that was something he couldn’t ignore.

  He yanked open the bag of coffee, dumped a bunch into the filter, and stomped through the office to the back sink to fill the carafe. He hated that dress the whole way to and from the faucet, and he hated it even more as he jammed his thumb on the brew button.

  It had been that damn dress last night. That was the culprit, together with her perfect curves, which were hard not to notice. Normally, she was covered in an apron. But damn she looked good. She was a beautiful woman, don’t get him wrong, but last night she just…

  She’d needed a man.

  Everything from her body language to the idiot she’d been with had told him what she’d wanted, and she was going to get it, even if that meant being reckless. He’d hoped to keep her safe. Instead he’d ended up being reckless with her.

  Could he have been any more pathetic trying to keep it cool this morning? Of course she wouldn’t tell Matt. Not just for herself, but because that could ruin his lifelong friendship, not to mention the dynamic of the only family he’d ever known. Her family. Lord knew he’d never be good enough in Lemon-Anne’s eyes, and Natalie had to know that, too. She wouldn’t say anything, and neither would he. But what she had said was pricking his mind.

  She wanted distance.

  What the hell did that mean? He saw her all the time. And surely she couldn’t mean it in the way he meant it when he used it as part of some bullshit excuse to one of his one-night stands. No woman had ever wanted distance from him before.

  He really was a son of a bitch. Or his ego was extra-sensitive today. No way in hell would he stand there and think about why he was so annoyed about this. And he sure as shit wasn’t going to go into mommy issues of abandonment, and commitment phobia. Lots of people had shitty parents. His had just happened to be one of the worst. He was lucky his mom had taken off when he was so young. Sure, seeing her passed out with blood running from her nose and foam from her mouth wasn’t exactly a pleasant memory. But there had only been a few times like that. And then she’d died so soon after.

  He closed his eyes for a second and remembered the day he’d found out. He’d already been living with Matt and Natalie, but at that point, he’d assumed it was a temporary arrangement. Eventually, his mom would come back. Eventually, he’d return to living in that dark and empty house, his mom drunk or high or…

  But she hadn’t come back. And as crushed as he’d been to hear that her addictions had finally gotten the best of her, his entire life had turned into one worth living when Natalie’s family had taken him in.

  And now he’d betrayed their trust. His only saving grace was that he was never going to let them find out, and he was never going to let this happen again.

  “Fuck this,” he muttered, and poured a cup of coffee. The drip wasn’t done, and when he removed the pot, it continued to pour and spilled onto the t
able. He shook his head and replaced the pot. He wasn’t thinking straight.

  He needed to clear his mind, and fast. Because he couldn’t, and wouldn’t, deviate from the boundaries that kept him safe. Hell, the boundaries that kept Natalie safe, too. He’d seen the hurt in her eyes when he’d left her this morning. But fuck, she knew as well as he did that last night had been a mistake.

  A wonderful and terrible mistake he couldn’t stop thinking about.

  Yep, I’m an asshole.

  For once, he should have kept his dick in his pants. Hopefully Natalie would just move on, and so would he, and they’d go back to irritating each other, and this whole thing would fade away.

  He adjusted his shoulders and felt the small welts left by her fingernails rubbing against the cotton of his shirt.

  Fade away. Good plan.

  “Hey, bro!” a happy voice came from behind him. Matt walked in and barreled toward him, big arms open.

  Guilt gripped East’s gut, but he swallowed and hugged his best friend with his free arm. “Hey! I was wondering when you were getting into town.”

  Matt hugged him so hard that East’s cup of coffee splashed and scalded his hand. He put the cup down and grabbed a napkin.

  “Oh, sorry,” Matt said when he saw the spill.

  “Don’t worry about it.” Honestly, a scalded hand was the least he deserved.

  Matt frowned. “Shit, man, you’re getting banged up.” He pointed to East’s bicep. “You get into a sticker bush or something out on a mission?”

  East looked at where Matt was pointing on his arm. Wouldn’t you know it? There were bright red scratches from the sexiest set of fingernails he’d ever had on him.

  “Uh, yeah, sticker bush,” he said, shaking the memory off. “You’re looking pretty good for a groom-to-be,” he said, changing the subject from his appearance to Matt’s.

  Matt glanced down at himself. “Yeah, the love of a good woman will do that.”

  East kind of wanted to barf at that sap, but this was his best friend, so he’d let it slide. Also because Matt looked to be truly happy. He was in sharp clothes, his hair freshly cut. Not like he’d been before he met Bridget, back when jeans and a two-day beard had been his usual.