"Not at this moment. Can I take a message?" I ask, wondering who this woman is to Nate. My gut tightens with an emotion I'm not too familiar with, yet find myself feeling more and more where Nate is concerned. Jealousy.
"Yes, please tell him that Vicki called. I will see him at the gala on Saturday," she says.
"I'll give him the message," I reply. Nate is meeting someone else at the gala?
"Thank you," she purrs before hanging up.
I'm just setting the phone back down on the table when Nate returns to our table. "What did she want?" Nate asks.
"Which one?" I reply, trying to keep my jealousy in check.
Nate's eyebrow shoots to his hairline as he says, "Who else did you talk to?"
"Vicki," I say as I look down, taking a big - very big - pull from my margarita.
"Vicki? She called?"
"Yeah, sorry about answering it. I thought it was Avery calling back because she forgot something," I respond, wiping my suddenly sweaty hands on my dress.
"What did Vicki want?"
"She said to tell you that she'll see you at the gala."
Nate reaches forward, extending his hand across the table for mine. I hesitate, but only briefly. I place my hand in his.
"It's okay, Nate. You don't have to explain anything. We aren't exclusive or anything. Hell, we really aren't dating," I say, trying to will my voice to be more casual than I know it is.
"First off," Nate starts, "we are dating, and we are exclusive. I'm not dating anyone else, Lia. Ever since you slammed that pan upside my noggin, I have no desire to date anyone else. There's no room in my life for anyone else because you consume my thoughts, day and night. And second, I haven't seen or talked to Vicki in over a month. She was a friend I hung out with on occasion," Nate says.
"A friend you slept with from time to time?" I ask with a knowing smile. Let's face it: Nate is hot. Any woman in Rivers Edge, St. Charles, and, well, the entire Midwest can see that. Case in point: the slutty hostess.
"Yeah," Nate says and holds firmly onto my hand like he's afraid I'm going to pull away and fly out of the restaurant.
"It's okay, Nate. You don't have to explain anything to me," I tell him. And it's true. Whoever Nate slept with in the past isn't really any of my business. I know that Nate wasn't a virgin when I met him. Hell, the man has moves that are legendary. However, it still doesn't settle that uneasy fluttering in my chest.
"Yes, I do. I haven't really told you too much about my past, Lia. I want you to know everything. I have nothing to hide from you," Nate says.
Nate takes a big drink from his beer bottle before he begins. "When I was in high school, I fell hard for a girl named Jill. She was my first everything. I was completely shocked that she even liked me, let alone loved me. When we graduated high school, I thought I wanted to spend the rest of my life with her. I was heading off to the fire academy within a few weeks, and I knew that I wanted her waiting for me when I returned, even though she was heading off to college. I proposed to her and she said no," Nate says.
My heart is beating at an unhealthy level and my breathing is coming out in quick pants. How could anyone tell Nate Stevens no? He's the kind of man any woman would love to marry. Smart. Funny. Loyal. Sexy as sin.
"She told me no because she was afraid I would make her a widow because of my job. She also wanted to go out and live life, not be saddled down at eighteen and expected to start popping out kids."
Nate's hands have a slight tremor in them as he tells me about Jill. His eyes are dark and stormy as he continues. "So, I decided right then and there that I would never put a woman in that position. My job could take me on any given day, and it's not fair to her to sit back and deal with the aftermath. If I don't get married, then there's no chance of her getting hurt. That's why I've dated casually, but not seriously. I can't take that chance."
I sit there, absorbing everything he's confessed to me. I knew that Nate didn't intend to marry, but I didn't realize the extent of his hurt. Fourteen? Fifteen years? That's a long time to hold on to hurt and pain of a lost love.
"Nate, there are dangerous jobs everywhere. You could be driving to the grocery store or crossing the street and be involved in an accident. Yes, your job is dangerous, but you save lives. That's what you do. It's who you are. The right woman won't care about your job or the fact that you may not come home one night. The right woman will only care about the fact that she had you at all; for whatever amount of time that would be. The right woman would want to be with you for however long you both have together because she loves you so much, she can't imagine not having you in her life. The pain of losing you would be more bearable than the lifetime of regret. The right woman will be worth the risk."
A woman like me, my brain practically screams at me.
Nate stares deeply into my eyes. I'm lost in the sea of color and intense feelings that are swirling around within them. It's at this exact moment that I want to tell him that I'm that woman. That I love him for who he is and that I would be honored to have him for a day, a year, or a lifetime. I'd take whatever amount of time I was given.
But, I know that our time is limited.
"What if I already found her?" Nate asks in a soft, yet husky voice. My insides practically explode with joy and sadness.
How do you answer that when you know you will eventually leave? How do you tell the man you love that you, in fact, do love him but you can't stay? How do you tell the man that you see spending the rest of your life with that you're going to break his heart, just like the woman before you did?
Our food arrives at that exact moment which saves me from having to answer. I'm not sure I could get the words out anyway. Nate and I both silently dig into our food. I'm devouring my steak and butterfly shrimp like I haven't eaten in a week. In all honesty, I know that as long as I have food in my mouth, there's a better chance I won't say something stupid.
Nate continues to watch me over his fork as he eats his dinner. His steak is medium and juicy. Mine is more medium-well since I don't like to look down and see blood on my plate. Nate chose the honey-glazed shrimp while I chose battered and fried. Without even saying a word, we both exchange a few of the shrimp on each other's plates. We just click like that.
"So, do you have your dress ready for Saturday?" Nate asks, steering conversation back towards a safer topic. The gala.
"Yeah, your mom helped me steam it so it's ready to go. I'm lucky that Holly is so close to my size. Otherwise, I'm not sure what I would have worn," I reply as I take a bite of Nate's shrimp.
"You could wear a burlap sack and still be the most beautiful woman at the party," he tells me with bright, sparkling eyes. I prefer this look on Nate. He looks happier now, the previous conversation pushed out of his mind.
"Well, I don't know about that. I do know that I will have an actual gown for this gala. I think it's the gown that Holly wore last month to some award show in Los Angeles with Jase."
"The red one?" Nate asks with that cocky smile.
"Yes," I say with a surprised look. "How do you know?"
"Avery was showing all sorts of pictures of them the following week. If memory serves correctly, that dress is low cut and strapless, and it has a slit. A very, very high slit up the side," Nate says in a husky whisper, leaning forward over the table. The look in his eyes is now predatory. Primal.
I lean forward, mimicking his movement. "It does."
"I just got hard," he deadpans.
I laugh loudly and shake my head at him. "Well, I guess you'll have something to think about for the next three days," I reply and sit back up straight.
"Oh, I'm already stripping that dress off of you and bending you over this table, in my mind," he says without missing a beat and digs back into his steak.
The rest of the meal is pleasant and the conversation flows enjoyably as we keep the topics away from our pasts. Nate pays the check and places his big, warm hand on my lower back as he steers me toward the door. The hostess is standing nearby, smiling at Nate. Nate pays no attention to her as he pulls me closer to his side and runs his big hand down my ass. We pass the stand without even a second glance her way. She huffs a big breath as we walk by, Nate's hand clearly marking his territory.