Real Men Don't Break Hearts(18)

Someone to even out the riffraff numbers. Still, Seth was family, and he had precious little of that commodity. He blew out a sigh. “Of course I’ll be there.”

“Thanks. I’ve had a whole weekend of Kerrigans already, and they’re driving me nuts.”

“That’s what happens when you get married.”

Seth shifted about in his seat. “And you’re really not interested in Ally?”

Nate glowered at him. “Why d’you keep asking me that?”

“I dunno. I suppose it’s because you’re moving back to Burronga, staring a new life. Just thought maybe you wanted to settle down with one woman as well.”

Nate snorted. “I haven’t changed that much.” Settling down. He snorted again. If ever a woman was the settling-down type, it was Ally Griffin. Which was why he had to be careful around her. Especially after last night.

He drew the car to a halt outside Seth’s parents’ place. Seth’s dad was on the porch in his T-shirt and shorts, peering suspiciously at them. Nate raised a hand in salute, but his uncle just scowled harder.

His aunt and uncle had never had much time for Nate or Robbie. Nate’s mother and Seth’s mother were sisters, but they’d never been close, and Uncle Derek had once called Nate and Robbie “the devil’s spawn.”

“See you later,” Seth said.

Nate nodded and made his escape.

…

It felt as though something furry had crawled into her mouth and died. Ally lifted her head from the pillow and groaned as pain assaulted her from every angle. She didn’t know which was worse, the demon playing cymbals inside her head, the heaving nausea in her stomach, or the gagging aridness of her throat. She rolled out of bed and staggered to the bathroom, where she turned on the basin tap and let the water dribble straight into her parched mouth.

She was never going to drink so much wine again. In fact, she was giving up all alcohol for good. Squinting at her pasty reflection in the mirror, she groaned again. What had happened last night? The details were hazy. She recalled finishing an already opened bottle of wine on her own, and then going to buy another bottle, coming back here, and bumping into Nate. She caught her breath. Nate. They’d talked a bit about Seth, and then he’d held her hand and put his arm around her. Oh, how sweet and comforting his arms had felt. And then…then she’d told him about the pregnancy and the miscarriage.

Her stomach rolled. Oh, hell, she was going to be sick. Why had she blabbed her rawest of secrets to him, of all people? Nate Hardy. He was virtually a stranger. No, worse than that, he was her adversary. Except…last night he hadn’t been. He had understood her pain; he’d been on her side. Heck, he’d even offered to punch Seth for her. And then he’d opened the bottle of wine, and they’d talked a bit more, and she couldn’t remember anything after that…

Ignoring the hammering in her head, she rushed into the living room. There were the two used wineglasses on the coffee table. The throw rug she usually draped over the back of the couch was all scrunched up into a ball, and the cushions were piled up on one end as if someone had used them as a pillow. Someone named Nate.

Before she could speculate further, she heard her front door opening, footsteps on her stairs, and a few moments later, Nate appeared. He looked in much better shape than she did. Even though his jeans and shirt were rumpled and his jaw unshaven, his movements were quick, his eyes clear and alert. A little too alert as they scanned her from head to toe, making her all too aware of her disheveled appearance.

He held out the cardboard tray in his hands containing two to-go coffees. “You look like you could do with one of these.”

“Nate…” She ran her fingers through her hair and then regretted it as she realized what a stork’s nest it was. “Did—did you spend the whole night here?”

“On the couch. All night.” He pressed one of the foam cups into her hands. “But don’t worry; I was the perfect gentleman.”

His winking smile made her groan even as it sent a shiver through her. “Oh, God. I don’t know what came over me last night. You must think I’m a complete basket case.”

He ushered her to the couch, and she didn’t have the strength to resist. Sinking into the cushions, she curled her fingers around the cup and took a sip of the hot, reviving coffee.

“No, I don’t.” He looked calm and sane and unnervingly attractive. “You had every right to behave the way you did. My cousin isn’t the most perceptive of guys nor the most sensitive.”

She nodded and drank some more coffee. She’d done enough talking about Seth to last her a lifetime. “Just so you know, last night was an aberration. I don’t normally drink so much.”

“No kidding.” He offered her a wry smile. “But it’s good to know you’re not completely straitlaced.”

She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, I’m also a maudlin drunk.”

“No, you’re human, just like the rest of us.”

“I won’t be doing it again in a hurry.”

Nate shifted in his seat, and some of his composure seemed to ebb away. “I have to admit something. When I woke up this morning, I didn’t just go out for coffee. I drove over to Seth’s place and gave him a piece of my mind.”

The coffee sloshed around in her cup. “What?” Cold dismay dripped through her veins. “Why did you do that?”

“I’m sorry—I know it was the wrong thing.” He leaned forward, his expression determined. “But I had to tell him how I felt. Of course, my bloody temper almost got the better of me. Don’t worry. I didn’t break into his bedroom and throttle him, although that’s what I felt like doing. I just took him for a little drive and told him what a jerk he was. That’s all.”

“That’s all? Sounds like plenty to me.”

Nate held up his hand. “I had to get it off my chest, but it’s done now. And Seth doesn’t appear to have any hard feelings.” He paused, his expression a curious mixture of indignation and apology. “I used to blow my stack a lot when I was younger, but I’m better now.”

She shot him a dark frown. “I suppose there’s no harm done, but you can’t do it again. It’s something I prefer to keep to myself.”

“You regret confiding in me, then?”

Her frown lingered as she pondered his question. She didn’t regret confiding in him, she realized. It had been a relief to unburden herself, to express all the feelings she’d suppressed and carried alone. And it had felt good to lean her head against his chest and rest in his arms. Very good. She could have spent all night in his embrace. But that was the problem. Why did it have to be Nate she’d bumped into last night? What had made her spill her secret to him and no one else?

“I…” Glancing up, she found him studying her with an intensity that first startled her and then lured her in. The rough stubble on his jaw made her want to caress his chin with her fingers, then slide them through his dark, tousled hair. It wasn’t an accident that she’d confessed her secret to him. She knew it was something more, something deeper and fundamental. Something scary.

She tried to cover her confusion by taking a gulp of coffee. “I don’t regret it,” she answered haltingly. “I—I’m glad I didn’t have to drink alone last night.”

“You should never have to drink alone. Next time you feel the urge, just give me a call.”

She pressed her knees together as a very different kind of urge suddenly blossomed between her thighs. Would Nate want her to call about this urge? The idea sent more heat smoldering through her. Worried about a telltale blush rising, she jumped to her feet and instantly regretted it as the bongo drums inside her skull started up again.

“Ouch.” She winced.

Nate rose to his feet, swallowing the last of his coffee. “You should take some aspirin and lie down.”

“Can’t.” She kneaded her temples. “I have loads of new stock coming in today, and I have to get the shop prepared.”

“Don’t you ever take a day off?”

“Normally today would be my day off, but I’ve got too much to do.”

“I wish I could lend you a hand, but I’m heading back to Sydney. The movers are packing up my things tomorrow, then I’ll be back on Wednesday. Permanently.”

And she’d be bumping into him all the time. Maybe familiarity would lessen the impact he seemed to have on her. Maybe she’d get used to those smoky, brandy-colored eyes of his, that confident, dynamic air, that aura of barely leashed sensuality.

Maybe, but she wouldn’t bet on it.

…

Nate muttered an oath as he banged his knee against a cardboard box lying in his way. With his arms filled by a large painting, he hadn’t seen the darn thing just inside his bedroom. Easing the painting down, he glanced about. His king-size bed took up most of the floor space. The Eames lounger looked offended to be jammed under the window, and the custom-built dresser blocked access to the closet. There was simply not enough space in this house to fit all his belongings. At least he’d had the sense to leave the treadmill behind. Here in Burronga he’d have to go jogging the old-fashioned way.