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“Watch your mouth, young lady,” her mother said. Her cheeks flamed with embarrassment that East was witnessing this. Not that it was anything new. But now that she’d been with him, she hated the idea of coming off like a kid again, of being scolded for not being the perfect St. Clair daughter. He’d really seen her in the past few days, the real Natalie, and she didn’t want them to lapse back into their old roles, where she was nothing more to him than Matt’s little sister.
“I wasn’t kidding about Harrison, Natalie. I’ll call him,” her mother threatened. And with the wedding approaching, she was running out of time.
“I know you will, Mother,” she said. She stabbed idly at the pork chop on her plate.
“But I ran into Michelle at her shop yesterday. I was getting shoes for the wedding,” Lemon-Anne said, her face beaming with pride. All Natalie could feel was embarrassment that she was clearly a disappointment to her mother because she wasn’t like her brother. Wasn’t madly in love with the perfect person and getting married. Wasn’t a gorgeous, elegant debutante who ran a ladies’ charity or something. Natalie hoped briefly that the wedding talk would distract her mother from scolding her, but of course, that would have been too good to be true. Lemon-Anne’s eyes went back to Natalie. “Michelle said that you had a date. Did it go well?”
Natalie’s gaze flashed to East, and he glanced down.
“The other night? Yes, it was fine.” That was stretching the truth. The moment she’d had East buried inside her, that had been more than fine. That had been perfect. “Drinks with Match.com guy” had been as disastrous as all her other attempts. Will from Charlotte hadn’t stopped droning about…what had he even been talking about? Mergers or something. She hadn’t known it was possible to be that bored. Especially after the intense excitement she felt whenever she was with East.
Her mother smiled brightly, and East looked up from his plate to hit her with a steely stare. She couldn’t read his expression. Was that…anger? Excitement?
“Well, tell us about this mystery man. Was he a gentleman?” Lemon-Anne placed extra emphasis on that last word. Nobody but a true Southern gentleman would be good enough for a St. Clair girl, of course.
Natalie didn’t know what to do, but her mother was pressing for details, and she wasn’t about to admit to yet another failure in front of her family and the man she couldn’t stop picturing naked. So she fudged a little.
“He can be. He can also be downright dirty.” Natalie shot a quick look at East.
Her mother blinked several times, and East bit his lip to keep from smiling. The sparkle in his eye told her that he knew she was talking about him now. She felt a fizz of happiness inside.
“Oh, does he work with his hands?” her mother asked in a naive tone. Natalie had to bite back her own laugh. She didn’t dare look at East.
“Um, yes, you could say that,” Natalie replied, as thoughts of East’s hands and what they could do arose unbidden from her memory. “He’s very skilled. He can do things with sugar that you just wouldn’t believe.”
East coughed abruptly and grabbed his glass of water.
“Oh, so he’s a baker, too? Hmm, well, that’s, um…that’s nice, dear.” Lemon-Anne was clearly not very pleased with the idea of her precious daughter dating someone who wasn’t Beaufort aristocracy, but Natalie assumed that having a date at all was better than nothing in her mother’s eyes.
“Will he be available for the wedding?” Her mom continued, oblivious to the electricity arcing across the table between Natalie and East. “I was hoping you might have found someone a bit more, ah, deserving, but if he’s willing to show up, then we’ll make it work.”
Ouch. Willing to show up? That snapped her out of her inside joke with Easton.
“Is that how pathetic I am, Mom? I need a date so badly I can just—”
“Don’t get dramatic, I’m simply saying that your options are limited, and beggars can’t be choosers.”
Her entire heart kicked into her throat like every single word her mother just uttered had its own foot.
She’d heard that turn of phrase several times, but it had never cut as bad as right then. Maybe because East was witness to it. Maybe because she was tired. Maybe because deep down, she was getting scolded like a little girl in front of the one man she wanted to look at her like a true woman. The earlier fizz of happiness was replaced with the acid bite of her mother’s words.
“I totally agree,” East cut in with a nasty tone, and hit her mother with a glare. “Beggars can’t be choosers. Good thing Natalie is far from a beggar. If anything, she’s not choosy enough.”
Her mother gave a kind smile. “You and Matt have always been so sweet. Just like you should be. Looking out for her. Tell me, Easton,” her mother said, fully turning her attention to him, “how’s everything coming with the wedding? Matt and Bridget are due back tomorrow, correct?”
While East addressed the question, drawing attention from Natalie’s dating life, she took the chance to excuse herself and leave the table.
“Forgive me,” Natalie said, and scooted her chair, “I just need a minute.”
A minute to collect herself. Her mother nodded absently, but East kept his gaze on her as she rose from the table and left the dining room. She went up to the third floor bathroom because she needed two flights of stairs to get her mind right.
She leaned over the sink and looked in the mirror, then took a deep breath. She had to let this go. Let it roll off her back like she always had. Or had she? She knew her mother loved her, deep down, but she also had those crazy St. Clair expectations that Natalie could never meet. And for some reason, tonight they were harder to stomach than usual. Maybe because she did want more. Maybe because she didn’t want East to see her as pathetic. She shook her head and reminded herself that she shouldn’t be thinking of him anyway.
She thought, instead, of her options. Thought of Connecticut and Leslie’s offer. Maybe she was just getting too tired of fighting to stay in Beaufort. Fighting her mother. All of it. Yes, she loved her shop, but maybe this circle of self-doubt and exhaustion needed to end. Maybe she needed a big change.
First, though, she had to get through dinner, then Matt’s wedding.
With a final breath, she prepared herself to go back down. She opened the door and—
