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But in true Natalie fashion, she shook off the expression and hustled off the bar stool.
“What the—” East said, but he didn’t get any more words out, because the woman grabbed her purse and bolted around the back of the bar and toward the narrow hallway. She kept her head down to skirt past Boring Guy and make a beeline toward her cupcake shop.
East didn’t know whether to call after her or chuckle at her discomfort. Natalie St. Clair had a stigma of being awkward and nervous, but somehow everyone’s best friend. Hell, giving her shit for being so fidgety had been half the fun for East and Matt when they were all teenagers. She’d always taken it in good stride, though. Always laughed along.
Tonight she’d looked disappointed, though. Sad. And as much as he wanted to kick Boring Guy’s throat in for caring so little about giving her what she needed, he couldn’t forget that brief moment where she’d seemed at a loss for words with him. East and Natalie. No matter how much they’d gotten on each other’s nerves, she’d never been awkward with him. But something was different tonight. Something that had sent her out the bar without another word. Something that made every protective instinct in his body light on fire.
He went after her.
Natalie darted inside the quiet space of her cupcake shop and shut the door. It was dark, thank God, since she was closed and far enough away from the main restaurant and the hustle and bustle of the bar patrons. Gotta love this old mansion. It gave her the privacy she needed without her having to go more than a winding hallway away.
The muffled sound of everyone talking off in the distance did little to calm her, so she busted open her secret stash of bourbon, reserved for her bourbon cupcakes, and took a few hefty swallows. She didn’t even bother turning on the lights. The low-lit hallway cast enough of a glow for her to see. Besides, she knew her small shop by heart—little display case in the front next to the checkout counter, and the prepping table, stoves, and endless counter space in the back.
It was all hers. Not her family’s. Definitely not her mother’s idea of a “prestigious career path,” but the little bakery was all Natalie’s. And she loved it.
A buzz came from her phone. She glanced at the screen. Speaking of her mother… She kept a tight grip on the bourbon bottle with one hand and held her phone with the other to read the text.
How’s the date going? A suitable gentleman, I hope? You tweezed your eyebrows and are remembering your manners, correct?
Natalie sighed and took a big swig of bourbon. It wasn’t so much the way her mother treated her like a child that bothered her; it was that she treated her like half a person. Like Natalie would never be a “whole” person unless she had a “suitable gentleman.” A fact that had never bothered her—much—before. But come on, everyone she knew was getting hitched to the loves of their lives. And here she was, having a hard time just finding someone who didn’t make her want to claw her eyes out.
She hit a few keys and responded to her mother.
Texting during a date is rude. And, yes, I have manners.
She smirked. She’d never be a pain in the ass to her mother on purpose, but she couldn’t handle her right now. Because the truth was, while Natalie didn’t “need” a man the way her mother wanted her to, she was getting fed up with the loneliness. And the constant berating from her mother about how she’d die a spinster.
It didn’t help that she was the “local” girl and had been in the friend zone with most of the men in town since about second grade. But she loved her town, loved her shop, and wouldn’t ever move. She’d find the kind of happiness she wanted, right here in Beaufort.
“Fuckin’ friend zone,” she muttered, and took another hefty swallow of alcohol.
And tonight, just when she’d thought the night couldn’t get any worse, the one man that got to her like no one else had shown up.
Easton Ambrose.
“What the hell was I thinking?” she mumbled around another swallow. Another awful date with a boring guy who looked at her like she was little more than adorable at best. Which super sucked, since she’d spent her last paycheck on that dress from her friend Michelle’s boutique. Deep down, she knew that no dress or makeup could change her curse.
No one wanted her. Not like that.
And the guys who might want her…well, her big brother Matt was the town’s pride and joy. The man had practically ridden out of here on a float when he left for college. East had taken it upon himself to annoy the shit out of her in Matt’s absence.
Hold on. East hadn’t just annoyed her tonight. He’d intervened. Was that another reason why so many guys gave her such a wide berth? Because for big brother Matt and big pseudo-brother East, no one was ever going to be good enough for her?
She took another swig.
They were probably right. They just had it backward. She was the one who would never be good enough. She was plain at best. Quirky at worst. And somewhere in between, she was sick of it. Her few experiences with sex were anything but stellar, but damn it, she wanted to feel something. Everyone around here, her best friends, were all happy and settling down. Even her own brother was getting married.
She didn’t need all of that. Not marriage. Not kids. Not even commitment. She just wanted a chance at that whole passion thing everyone seemed to be raving about. It looked…nice.
Better than nice.
She’d seen the way her friend Chloe’s husband kissed her neck whenever she was within a few inches of him. Watched how her other friend Michelle had her ass squeezed by her fiancé constantly because he couldn’t seem to keep his hands off her.
“Must be nice,” Natalie said to her bottle of bourbon, and took another drink. Yeah, must be nice. To be wanted like that. Treated like you were…sexy. Desirable. Just once she wanted to feel that.
She’d had high hopes for her date tonight. But he’d turned out to be a dud, and then stupid Easton Ambrose with his stupid muscles and stupid smile came in and made her feel weird. Not just weird—more like hot and buzzing. But what else was new? He’d made her feel that way since she was a teenager.
But between her brother being his best friend, and East never looking at her twice except to flick her forehead or tug her pigtail, she’d determined a long time ago that they were just bound to be enemies. Mostly because the man irritated her like no other. He’d been the senior varsity quarterback of the football team when she’s been a freshman band geek. And not much had changed. Well, other than East had somehow gotten sexier, and she’d given up playing the clarinet. God, going through puberty with the hottest man on the planet under the same roof had been no easy feat.
