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Chapter One
Holy God, this was painful to watch, Easton Ambrose thought, wincing at the pitiful display in front of him.
Honey’s was the only bar/restaurant in town that boasted Southern hospitality, good food, and unique architecture, so it was the place to be on a Friday night. Hell, in his small town of Beaufort, North Carolina, it was where most of the ladies flocked, and East was nothing if not an avid hunter.
Seeing as how he “knew,” aka “saw naked in some capacity,” most of the women currently in the bar, he could spot a hot chick he didn’t recognize immediately. Even if all he could see was her sweet ass sitting in the barstool with her back to him. Hourglass figure. Prominent hourglass, to be exact. With her perfect posture and all that thick, dark hair falling over her trim shoulders, the delicate curve of her back leading to some serious hips and ass, he knew right away he’d remember a frame like that if he’d felt it before. And he was certain he hadn’t. Something he’d like to change tonight.
Not that he was a total playboy douche. Playboy maybe, but not a douche. No, he was upfront with women, cared about their needs, and was clear on his own. He wasn’t a commitment type, and he had good reason for that. But he enjoyed being loved on and lovin’ on someone—as long as it was one night at a time.
He took a swig of his beer and adjusted his Stetson back on his head just enough to get a better view of this mystery woman at the bar. Normally he’d be at the bar himself, tossing a few back with his buddies, likely all still in their search and rescue gear, but he’d taken tonight off. His buddies had handed in their man cards for “domestic bliss,” and that left East alone on the prowl in a white T-shirt and his favorite hat.
He shuddered and had to take another drink of beer at the words “domestic bliss.”
My ass…
There was nothing blissful about being tied down. Granted, his buddies Dex and Gage were roped to some seriously awesome women, but still. It wasn’t for East. It was a Friday night, and that meant the women from a few towns over always wandered in looking for the country boys and good times that Honey’s promised whenever live music was playing. Which it was. And East played his part well—not the music, but the game—and had his sights set on his opponent for the night.
Hourglass hottie was clearly on a terrible date with a boring guy. That was obvious. Poor sap didn’t stand a chance with a dime piece like this woman.
The boring guy was prattling on and on, and East couldn’t help but do his own muffled voiceover:
“The accounting firm I work at is super duper, and the only thing that gets my dick harder than my calculator watch and tax season is reruns of Golden Girls.” East’s voice was quiet but had a nerdy twang, and to his credit he kept in time with the boring guy’s mouth. Okay, it was kind of fun, so he went on. “Wanna come over to my mom’s house where I live in the basement, and I can heat us up some pot pies and pretend I know how to unfasten a bra?”
East snickered again. Fuckin’ boring guy. He just knew he wasn’t too far off on his commentary. But still, East was no asshole. He was a prick. Big difference. And he was only a prick sometimes. Particularly when he was riled up, or he saw a woman not being treated right. And man, did this woman look like she needed to be treated right. He could tell by her body language that she was begging for it. And the idiot she was with wasn’t getting the signals. Granted, now her shoulders were slumping, and the hair flick that should be flirty was more annoyed than it had been a minute ago. She knew the guy was lame and not her speed. East could show her what speed a pristine woman like her should be accelerated to.
Top gear, pedal to the metal, gasping for breath kind of speed.
And yeah…he got all that from Miss Hourglass without her even having to face him. The deep
cut of her dress and perfect slope of her back was enough for him to know that woman was capable of moving in ways he could only dream of.
East was an easy going guy, and he wasn’t looking to cock block anyone. But when the boring guy did a double take at a woman walking by, East wasn’t the only one who noticed. Hourglass noticed, too. Her date had just openly checked out another woman right in front of her.
Dick.
That annoyed East because clearly the woman Boring Guy was with was hot. But her shoulders slumped a little more, and he could tell by the shift in her body language she felt defeated. He kind of wanted to punch Boring Guy. Thankfully, the idiot got up to use the bathroom, and East was done sitting back and watching this mess.
He was going in. Part of his job as a search and rescue medic for the North Carolina area was to assess a situation and save damsels in distress. Okay, so it was more like assess the situation and save lives, but Hourglass definitely needed to be saved. All of his years learning and knowing women told him that.
East made his way toward her at the bar, weaving around the packed area, casually holding his beer with one finger around the longneck and tipping his hat down just enough to shadow his eyes so that when he approached her, all she’d be hit with was his trademark smile, dimple included.
Lucky for him, he did enjoy the hunt. And Honey’s was a massive old Victorian mansion that had been renovated into a huge restaurant and bar. It even had a few shops hidden within what were once bedrooms. So he moved stealthy and finally closed in on his prey.
“Can I buy you a drink, darlin’?” he asked Hourglass as he came right up to her. All that long, chocolate hair smelled amazing, and damn, it looked thick and glossy. She clearly took care of herself. “Or maybe we can skip the drink and go straight for dessert,” he finished.
He leaned in just as she turned to face him. Here it came…he unleashed the smile just as she faced him, and he caught her scent of vanilla, spice and—
Oh shit…
“East?” Hourglass’s voice wasn’t lyrical. It was penetrating and damn near shrieking. Mostly because that voice, which was tied to the hot bod of Hourglass, was none other than Natalie St. Claire, his childhood nemesis.
She hit him with a glare, and East tried real hard to hit her with one back, but the dress she wore showed way too much cleavage, and he had a difficult time remembering why they’d never liked each other.
“Did you just hit on me?” She spun in her stool to face him fully, and that glare turned to a scowl. “What the hell is the matter with you? Don’t think you’ll get my cupcakes for free just by tossing out any old line you use on all your other conquests.”
Oh, right. Now he remembered. She was a mouthy pain in the ass. She’d treated him more like an older brother—one she hated—than she did her own actual brother, and that dynamic had never faded. It didn’t help that she was now her own boss with her own cupcake bakery. She had nobody to talk any sense into her.
Normally he had no problem accepting that they were natural enemies, except that tonight there was nothing normal about Miss Natalie. She was smoking hot. She’d ditched her messy pile of hair for sleek waves, and her oversize flour-covered apron for a sexy little dress. Which again, he shouldn’t be appreciating as much as he was, because she was Natalie Fucking St. Clair. Her last name was a damn legacy in the town, and her family was the only one he’d ever had.
They’d taken him in when he was a young teenager. His dad had never been around, and his mom had barely been there, either. And then, when his mom had taken off and overdosed on her final drug bender, the St. Clairs had become his legal guardians. Lemon-Anne St. Clair was the only woman he really knew as a mom. She’d raised him. Nurtured him. He knew he was trash, as wrong a match for their high class as oil was for water, but they’d loved him anyway. He’d already been best friends with Matt at school, but after that, Matt had been like a brother, Natalie like his sister. Their parents like his parents. He owed everything to the St. Clairs, even if Lemon-Anne St. Clair sometimes liked to remind him of the fact a little too much.
And when Waylon St. Claire passed away three years ago, they all grieved together as a family at losing their patriarch, the only father East had known.
Which was why, even after he’d lain awake at night for years, unable to stop thinking about Natalie and how much he wanted her, he’d never pursued her. To the St. Clairs they were brother and sister. Hell, that was how East thought of them, too. It just wouldn’t be right.
So yeah, little Natalie needed to get out of that little dress really damn quick before his not-so-little dick started hurting.
