Real Men Don't Break Hearts(35)

The tremble in his hands intensified. As much as he wanted more from Ally, the idea of commitment made him jumpy, but he couldn’t avoid the truth any longer. Suddenly everything made sense, and the whole world looked different to him, as if he’d pulled on a pair of tinted glasses. Rose-tinted glasses, wasn’t that what people called them?

He glanced at Robbie’s photo again. “You’re going to laugh at me again, Robbie. I just know it. But it can’t be helped. I think I’ve fallen in love with someone. Yeah, me. Can you believe it?” He let out a soft snicker and dragged his fingers through his hair. “Suddenly I want her to be with me all the time. I want to go to sleep with her every night and wake up to her every day.”

He shook his head. What the hell was happening to him? Here he was by himself, talking to a damn photograph about love. Moving back to Burronga had definitely changed him.

…

Don’t run, walk, Ally admonished herself as she hurried up the path toward Nate’s front door. But her legs had a mind of their own, bouncing up the porch steps as if she were high. For God’s sake. She didn’t want him to think she’d been missing him in any way, even though she could hardly go one hour without thinking about him. Annoying how Nate had taken over her thoughts recently, especially after the last time they’d been together, when he’d gone to the aid of his neighbor—so out of character for him—and afterward become all evasive when they’d started talking about his brother. Each time she learned something new about Nate she realized he was far more complex than she’d assumed. There were shades and nuances to the man that he kept well hidden.

She paused at the front door to fluff up her hair before lifting the knocker. After closing the gift shop, she’d spent a good hour on her appearance, blow-drying her hair, putting on mascara and lip gloss, choosing a floaty chiffon blouse to go over her tight-fitting jeans. Not that it made much difference what she wore when she went over to Nate’s place. Usually they’d order a pizza or Chinese takeaway to go with a glass of wine or beer, and then they’d dive into bed, tearing at each other’s clothes. So primping herself was probably a waste of time, but when Nate opened the door and flicked his gaze over her, the glow of admiration in his eyes made her feel like a gamboling puppy.

“Gilding the lily just for me?” He arched an eyebrow teasingly. “I’m honored.”

“I had some time to kill.” She faked a nonchalant shrug, drinking in the sight of him. His crisp, dark hair was still sleek from his shower, and he smelled tantalizingly of soap and shaving cream. It wasn’t fair how he could just wash, shave, pull on jeans and a shirt, and look divinely sexy. A small, rough-coated dog stuck his head out from behind Nate’s legs and gave her an exploratory sniff. “Is that the same vicious cur from the other night? He’s like a lamb tonight.”

“Yeah, Porkchop is a changed dog.”

A spicy Asian aroma wafted over her as she moved into the house. “You’ve already ordered from Golden Palace?”

“No. Tonight we’re having a proper meal I cooked from scratch.”

He ushered her into the dining room where an oval table was laid for two. Elegant white china, stylish cutlery, crystal glasses, linen napkins. Napkins. What was going on here? They’d never used the dining room table before. Usually they sat in front of the TV to eat.

“Is this a special occasion?” she asked.

A strange expression filtered through his tawny eyes. “Does there need to be a special occasion? We don’t have to gobble down bought food on the couch every time, do we?”

No, but this felt different. The table settings and the home-cooked meal made this feel almost like a real date. Christ, there was even a silver wine bucket on the sideboard. The only thing missing was a pair of candles.

“You’re right.” She slid into the chair he held open for her, telling herself not to read too much into everything. “This is nice. What’s on the menu?”

“Baked snapper with chili, ginger, and basil. It’s just about ready, so why don’t you sit here while I bring it in?”

A few minutes later he brought out the aromatic fish together with a side dish of green beans, carrots, and daikon. As he moved between kitchen and dining room, the dog followed faithfully at his heels. She heard him talking to the dog as he led it away to the laundry room before he returned by himself with an expensive-looking bottle of Riesling. The wine sparkled in the crystal glasses, the fish smelled appetizing, and Nate sat across from her, the perfect attentive host. She should have been pleased, but instead a growing unease slowly bubbled in the pit of her stomach.

“So how is your neighbor doing?” she asked, eager to keep the conversation light. “Is she coming out of hospital soon?”

“Not for a while. She’s been moved to a rehabilitation unit, and she’ll be there for a couple of weeks, at least.”

“And you’re looking after her dog all that time? That’s very generous of you.”

Shrugging, he lifted a forkful of fish to his mouth. “It’s not that hard looking after him. I’ve been taking him with me on my jobs. So far it’s working out.”

She frowned, suddenly reminded of something she’d glimpsed when she arrived. “I noticed her front garden looks tidier than usual. Have you been mowing her lawn for her?”

He grinned. “Not me. My thirteen-year-old friend Oscar’s been hacking through Mrs. Bennett’s jungle.” He related how Oscar had come to be laboring for him after school hours. “He hates the work, but he doesn’t have much choice, and he knows he’s getting off lightly.”

“So now you’re trying to reform teenage delinquents?”

He lifted his broad shoulders. “Hey, if anyone knows about being a teenage delinquent, it’s me.”

The butterflies in her stomach wouldn’t settle. Why did Nate have to turn over a new leaf so completely? Why couldn’t he retain some of his old vices so she could remind herself he was no good for her?

“Fish too spicy for you?” Nate’s gentle rumble broke through her milling thoughts.

Belatedly she realized she’d been drawing patterns with her fork instead of eating. “No, it’s delicious. I guess I’m not very hungry, that’s all.”

As he set down his knife and fork, she saw he hadn’t made much of a dent in his food, either. Studying him closer, she noticed the faint tightness in his shoulders, the strained line of his mouth. It seemed he, too, wasn’t fully comfortable tonight. It was as if he was holding something back. Disquiet crawled through her. Was Nate about to break things off with her? The possibility jagged down her spine like a cold saw blade.

She grabbed her glass and took a gulp of wine, desperate to hold onto her self-control. It all made sense now, why they were sitting at a table across from each other instead of cozily cuddling up on the couch. Maybe this was all standard procedure for him. After all, he must have ditched a lot of girlfriends in his time, and she wasn’t even a girlfriend, just someone he’d slept with for a couple of weeks. She’d thought the sex was amazing, but maybe he had tired of her, and now he was bored and itching to move on to the next thing. The wine soured in her belly, but somehow she kept her face straight. When she’d first fallen into bed with Nate, she’d always known this day would come, only she hadn’t realized it would arrive so soon. But now that it was here, she told herself she could deal with it, just as she’d always assured him—and herself—she could.

“Ally, we need to talk.”

Even though she’d braced herself, his words still pierced her. She drew in a breath and focused all her attention on the golden liquid shimmering in her glass.

“Fire away.” If she could just concentrate on the wine then she would be all right. She wouldn’t break down. She wasn’t the same girl who’d fallen to pieces when her fiancé had jilted her. She was strong, tough, durable.

“We’ve been seeing a lot of each other this past fortnight.”

“Uh-huh.”

“And the sex has been crazy good.”

“Mm-hmm.” Her lungs didn’t seem to be working. She couldn’t breathe in or out.

He paused. Somewhere outside a dog barked. “Ally…” She heard the whoosh of his breath expelling. “Can you please look at me while I’m talking?”

Her neck cricked as she forced herself to meet his amber eyes. She couldn’t interpret his expression, but there was a contained tension about the way he held himself, a reined-in strain on the planes of his face. Of course, he wasn’t as callous as she used to think. Even if he was the instigator, he didn’t enjoy breakups. Who did?

“You were talking about sex, right?” Beneath the table her knees were pressed together, bone against bone, a trembling barrier against her threatening emotions.

“Yeah…” Leaning against his chair, he tipped it back, balancing it on its rear legs. “It’s been crazy good for you, too, hasn’t it?”

This time she could only nod, her ribs aching against her hammering heart. He bent forward, the chair legs thudded onto the floor, and she couldn’t help flinching. Resting his elbows on the table, he fixed his gaze on her.