Keeping His Promise: A When It Happens Novella, Book 2 (3 page)

BOOK: Keeping His Promise: A When It Happens Novella, Book 2
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“No,” he ground out.

“No?”

He came a step closer, erasing the space between them as her head went back and he put his face right over hers. “If you’re gonna take a chance on someone, then take it on
me
.”

Her eyes shot so wide she knew she must look ridiculous. “Are you serious? Do I look like a freaking idiot to you? Or a backstabbing bitch?”

“Backstab…? Wait. What the hell are you talking about?”

Shoving hard at his chest, she snarled, “I would never be with a cheater, Sean! I would never do that to another woman!”

His dark brows drew together as he stared down at her, the line of his jaw rigid. The blue of his eyes had gone from stormy to outright pissed, his rough voice little more than a guttural blast of sound when he demanded, “The last time, Natalie?”

“What?”

He pointed a long finger at the restaurant, his voice even lower than before. “When was the last time you saw me in there with a woman on the weekend?”

She crossed her arms over her chest and tossed him a bland look. “I don’t keep track.”

He got right in her space again, all hot and hard and angry, but sexy-as-hell. “You should. Because I haven’t gone out with anyone since you and I met. The day that Sophie moved in with Chris. That was almost a month ago.”

“Just because you haven’t brought a woman into the restaurant the past few weekends doesn’t mean you aren’t hooking up. This is San Diego. There are nice restaurants on every corner. And you’re still having dinner with the blonde every Tuesday night!”

With a slow shake of his head, he told her, “You have some serious trust issues, you know that?”

Bristling over the fact that he had the nerve to look freaking disappointed in
her
, as if she were the one at fault here, she snapped, “What I have is a brain. One I plan on using to keep me out of trouble.”

“And out of my pants? Is that what you’re saying?”

“This conversation is over.”

He rubbed his hand over his mouth, then exhaled a rough breath as he stepped back from her. “I don’t waste my time on women who aren’t interested, and I sure as hell don’t force myself on them,” he said in a flat tone.

What the…? “I didn’t think you did.”

A smirk twisted that beautiful mouth. “No, you just think I’m a cheating piece of shit, right?”

She swallowed the painful lump in her throat, wondering why this all felt so freaking wrong, when she was only trying to do the right thing.

Taking a careful breath, she waited until the group of people walking past them reached the restaurant’s entrance, then said, “I should probably go back and find out what’s happening with Matt.”

He jerked his chin toward the restaurant. “You’d be better off going in there and calling a taxi. From what Adam, the cop, told me, your friend Matt’s night is fucked. He’s gonna be busy trying to explain why he’s driving his girlfriend’s car without her permission. From the sound of it, she got pissed he was going out tonight without her, so she reported it stolen about an hour ago.”

Filled with the sudden urge to kick Matt in his scrawny backside, she croaked, “He has a girlfriend?”

“Yeah. Apparently he lives with her.”

“Jesus.” She leaned back against the side of the SUV and sucked in a deep breath, feeling like she needed the air to keep her from completely deflating. “I’m gonna freaking kill him.”

“I’d wait till the cops clear out first.” And just like that, he started walking away from her.

With every step he took, she felt a jolt in her stomach, as if she were losing something she’d never even had. Something she didn’t even want—on an emotional level. Not when it would mean getting her heart trampled into mushy little pieces of stupidity.

But, damn it, that didn’t mean she wanted to watch this man walk away from her. Not when she was still struggling to figure out what it was about him that drew her. And, yeah, he definitely drew her. Made her want to freaking cling to him, when she didn’t cling to anything or anyone.

Didn’t she need an answer for that? Because if she didn’t figure one out, how the hell was she going to find this feeling again? Hopefully with a guy who wasn’t guaranteed to break her heart?

“Look, you want me to take Paul’s truck and give you a ride?”

She choked back a relieved gasp at the sound of his voice, shocked when she realized he’d stopped and turned around to face her again.

He was trying to look casual as he waited for her answer, as if he didn’t really care if she accepted his help or not. But she could have sworn it was an act, given the way he watched her. Sharp, laser focus. Every ounce of it zeroed in on her.

“Wh-what would your brother do?”

He angled his head a bit to the side. “He can either go ahead and grab dinner and wait for me to come back for him, or have Adam and Kelley drop him off at his place. It’s not far from here.”

“Oh. Okay,” she heard herself say, walking toward him. “I mean, yes, please. And thank you.”

He gave her one of those sexy chin jerks, waiting for her to reach his side. Then they made their way over to the truck he’d shown up in.

“Natalie! What are you doing?” Matt called out. She looked over to find him scowling at her from the far side of the police cruiser. When she didn’t immediately answer, he tried to come toward her, but the female cop blocked his way, saying something that made him scowl, but thankfully brought him to a stop.

Shifting her gaze to Sean, she said, “The quicker we get out of here, the better.”

He nodded in response. “Wait here while I grab the keys from Paul.”

She stood by the front of the truck as he shared a quick word with his brother. Paul shot her a curious look, the sexy, almost knowing slant of his grin reminding her of Sean. They were a sight to see, standing next to each other, both tall and ripped and dangerously good-looking. They’d apparently been planning on having dinner together, and she could only imagine how giddy the female waitstaff would have been. They were a great bunch, but tended to go a bit starry-eyed when so much delicious man-candy came into the place.

And damn if she didn’t drool a little at the sight of Sean walking back to her, the way his incredible body moved in the casual clothes so freaking hot it should have been illegal. Or at least come with a warning label.

“Do you need anything from his car?” he asked her.

“No. I’ve got my purse,” she murmured, lifting the small black purse that was strapped over her shoulder.

He nodded and put his hand on her lower back as he guided her to the passenger-side of the truck. She literally shivered from the heady touch of his hand, and it made her frown. She didn’t like thinking about how right his touch felt. Or how freaking good. And the feeling only deepened as he took her arm, helping her up into the truck, which wasn’t easy in her dress, since she was trying not to flash too much skin.

Her pulse hammered, and every goddamn breath she sucked in only pulled in more of his scent—that hot, woodsy, masculine scent that made her want to taste every inch of his gorgeous body with ravenous laps of her tongue.

Mayday! Mayday! No spontaneous licking allowed! Keep tongue between teeth and think about something disgusting, like smelly socks. Or public restrooms. Or…

Shit! It isn’t working!

Desperate for a way to stifle her traitorous libido, Natalie blurted, “Will…will you tell me something?”

“What do you want to know?” His voice was all rumbly and low, and still close, since he hadn’t moved back to shut the door yet.

Turning her head toward him, she found his wary gaze, and held it. “What’s the blonde’s name? The one you have dinner with every Tuesday?”

He didn’t say anything for a moment. Then he slowly exhaled and took a step back, gripping the top of the door. She thought he was going to close it without giving her an answer. But she was wrong. “Peyton,” he grated. “Her name’s Peyton.”

She took that in as the door shut with a solid thud, thinking it figured. Even the woman’s name was pretty. And as she watched Sean’s tall, jaw-dropping body make its way around the front of the truck, his profile hard with irritation, she knew she needed to keep Peyton’s image front and center in her mind, the way an alcoholic used their coins. Knew that she needed to roll it over and over with her mental fingers, burning it into her brain.

It was the only way she could find the strength to walk away from him without doing something stupid.

Something she could never take back.

And never forgive herself for.

Chapter Three

A
s soon as
he’d shut the truck’s door, Sean cursed under his breath. Natalie Richards was a stunningly gorgeous, whip-smart, irritating pain-in-the-ass. One he wanted to put over his knee as badly as he wanted to goddamn devour her.

Years. It’d been
years
since he’d wanted a woman this badly, and it had to be
her
. A sarcastic, backbone-of-steel, snarling little man-hater who was
almost
too freaking young for him. He’d have thought he’d lost his ever-loving mind, if he didn’t know there was a hell of a lot more to her than the attitude she kept shoving in his face.

Goddamn Peyton. He loved her, but he kinda wished she lived on the other side of the fucking country right then. He couldn’t believe their dinners were giving Natalie the ammunition she needed to shoot him down.

Though it isn’t like all the other women I’ve taken into Manolo’s haven’t done a good job of that
, he thought sourly. But he knew it was Natalie’s belief that he was stepping out on Peyton that kept putting that seething look of disgust in her beautiful eyes. And he was done with it.

Done to the point that it was going to be damn satisfying to set her straight. Yeah, there was a chance that it wouldn’t make a bit of difference in her eyes, since she was so dead set on putting him in the dickhead category. But it would still be fucking satisfying.

And this is my one shot. I wouldn’t bet on there being another one.

Sean suspected that what he was about to do could blow up in his face, in a bad way. But he didn’t give a damn. It was either find a way to breakthrough with this woman, or accept that she was never going to take a chance on him.

And while forgetting about her might be the smarter option, it wasn’t one he could stomach. He knew, because he’d tried.

After he’d asked her out a few weeks ago and she’d basically laughed in his face, he’d gone home and told himself it was time to put her out of his head. He threw himself into work, actually getting ahead on his deadlines, and when the weekend started to roll around again, he picked up his phone, thinking it would be a good idea to make a date with another beautiful woman. Since it was either that, or make a fool of himself by hanging out alone at Manolo’s again. Or sitting in his condo like a loser. But as he scrolled through the contacts on his phone, he couldn’t get his thumb to press on a name.

His gut wouldn’t let him go through with it.

Would. Not. Fucking. Let. Him.

As pissed as he was about the way she’d turned him down when he’d asked her out, the memory of her gloating smile still fresh in his mind, Sean had ended up tossing the phone aside, and grabbed a beer instead. Then he’d spent the rest of the night out on his patio, watching the waves crash into the shore, while thoughts of the stubborn, frustrating redhead that was Natalie-fucking-Richards filled his head. Her laugh. Her smile. The way she looked when the sun caught all that red hair and her gray eyes gleamed with mischief. He might not have known her long, but he’d paid attention whenever she’d been nearby. With the way both his and Chris’s condos were placed, with their patios both on the beach-facing side of the building, he’d caught more than a few glimpses of her whenever she’d come over recently to visit with Sophie.

Then there were the nights he’d gone into Manolo’s, since discovering who she was, just so he could try to figure her out. And because he couldn’t seem to keep himself the fuck away.

It was true that he’d noticed her even before their little run-in the night her battery had died. Hell, if he were being completely honest, he’d actually noticed her before that Saturday night she’d taken the check to the table next to his. He’d been drawn to the glimpses of the beautiful redhead he’d get from time to time at the restaurant, though she’d always managed to somehow steer clear of him when he’d been there. In all the months he’d been frequenting the popular restaurant, she’d never served him. Never spoken to him.

Now, he couldn’t help but wonder if that had been by design. A deliberate avoidance, because she’d felt that same strange, exhilarating spark that tore through him whenever he set eyes on her. Had she? And if so, had it shocked her as badly as it’d shocked him?

Had it made her run?

Or had that simply been the fucking string of women she saw me with?

“Sean?” she murmured, pulling him back to the moment. Realizing he’d just been sitting there behind the wheel, completely lost in his thoughts, he cleared his throat and started the truck.

Beside him, Natalie reached for her seatbelt. “I don’t live far from here. Just head down this road, and then take the third left, onto Beachview. My apartment complex is about four miles down.”

“I know. I followed you home that night,” he murmured, pulling into the early evening traffic. He didn’t bother asking if she’d replaced the battery in her car, because he already knew that she had, thanks to Chris.

When they got caught by a red light, he made the mistake of looking over at her. She was so damn beautiful, with all that creamy skin, vivid hair, and those mouthwatering curves, that he could have stared at her forever and been more than happy about it. Sure, it made him sound like a pussy-whipped idiot, but seeing as how he’d never been anywhere close to her pussy, he guessed it didn’t matter.

She was just too goddamn gorgeous not to lose your head over. And her eyes… Christ, her eyes were the kind of thing that could make a man lose his train of thought—dark gray, almost charcoal, and stunning.

He wanted the chance to stare into those beautiful eyes for longer than the length of a fucking traffic light, but knew it would never happen with the way things stood between them now. Not when she’d already decided he was a grade-A manwhore, and not worth her time.

So, yeah…this is definitely my one and only shot.

The light changed, and when the turn to Beachview came up not thirty seconds later, Sean hit the gas and drove right by it. He braced for her to freak out on him, but a quick glance over to his right showed her fiddling with her phone. She was no doubt trying to seem occupied so that he didn’t expect her to talk to him, which was kinda funny, since it meant she wasn’t paying attention. He relaxed back into his seat a bit more and smirked, confident there would be a motherfucking load of hell to pay when she finally clued in that he wasn’t taking her home. But until then, he was going to enjoy the silence…and the way her seductive scent was filling the inside of Paul’s truck, as well as his head.

They were a good five minutes past the turn to Beachview when she finally looked up and realized where they were. “What the…?” Cutting him a sharp look, she demanded, “Where the hell are you going? I thought you were taking me home.”

“Actually, I said that I’d give you a ride. But I didn’t say to where.”

She forced her next words through her gritted teeth. “I want to go home, Sean.”

“And you’ll get there. I just need to make a quick stop somewhere first.”

“In completely the opposite direction from where I live? We’re heading to La Jolla!”

“Yep.”

“Fuck. Just…fuck!”

“Thanks, but I’ll pass.” He couldn’t help but shoot her a cocky smirk. “Believe it or not, I like my women a little less bitchy.”

“I know exactly how you like your women,” she muttered under her breath.

With a wince, he realized that wasn’t the smartest thing he could have said, and quickly lost the grin. “Look, I swear this won’t take long. And then I’ll take you wherever you want to go.”

“Just please make it quick,” she sighed, sounding defeated. He hated hearing her like that, when she was usually so feisty. But, damn it, she hadn’t given him any other choice. And hopefully this would turn out to be the most brilliant idea he’d ever had, and the woman would actually give him a chance to show her what he was really like.

It was a hell of a long shot, but one he had to take. She’d gotten too far under his skin, and he knew he’d have always regretted it if he didn’t at least try to get under hers. To make some kind of connection with her, even if it all blew up in his face.

Thankfully, it wasn’t far to their destination. He got lucky and found a parking space big enough for the truck that was fairly close to the upscale boutique they were headed to, then quickly jumped out so that he was around the truck and opening Natalie’s door before she’d even managed to unhook her seatbelt.

Her curious, still kinda pissed off gaze, swept down the stylish street, the sound of the waves in the cove and the salty breeze both signs that they weren’t far from the water. She pulled in a deep breath, then brought her wary gaze back to his as she slowly let it out. “Sean? What exactly are we doing here?”

Reaching down and taking her feminine hand in his, he said, “There’s someone I think you should meet.”

“Now? Are you serious?” she asked, as he started pulling her toward the sidewalk.

“Come on, Nat, don’t look so worried. You can trust me, I swear.”

“As fucking if,” she grumbled under her breath, though he was still able to catch the words.

Keeping a firm grip on her soft, slender hand, Sean tugged her along behind him, then through the front door of
Peyton’s
. A bell chimed, signaling their arrival, and Peyton’s smiling face peeked around the open doorway to the back storeroom. “Sean!” she said with surprise, shooting him a wide grin. “Give me just a sec.”

Natalie had started trying to yank her hand from his the moment she’d seen the pretty sign that hung over the front door. Then she’d completely frozen when Peyton had come into view. Now, as she stood beside him, he could all but feel her seething with fury. The kind that had made her go bright red in the face, her gray eyes glittering with emotion.

“What the fuck are you doing?” she hissed, finally managing to yank her hand from his grip. She nearly stumbled into one of the racks of designer dresses from the force of the movement, and he was trying to reach out to help her when Peyton came hurrying into the room.

“Ohmygod, are you okay?” she asked in a rush, giving Natalie a worried look when she nearly bent herself in half to avoid him getting a grip on her.

“I’m fine,” she gritted through her teeth, cutting him a deadly glare as she straightened and put another foot of space between them.

Figuring he better hurry up and get this done before she ended up running out the door, he said, “Peyton, meet Natalie Richards. She works as a bartender at Manolo’s. And she hates my guts because she thinks we’re a couple and that I’ve been screwing around behind your back.”

Peyton’s green eyes went wide, and then she burst out laughing. “You actually thought I was dating this doofus?”

Natalie froze again in an instant, her dark eyes so big she looked like someone had just dumped ice down her pants. “Uhh…”

“Doofus?” Sean muttered with a snort. “Nice, Pey. What are you, two?”

“Shut up, you butt-munch. And only Mom gets to call me Pey.”

“Butt-munch? Jesus, Pey—”

“Hold that thought,” she said, cutting him off when the phone beside the cash register started ringing. She shot Natalie an apologetic smile. “I’ve got to answer that, but I’ll be right back. Please don’t leave without giving me a chance to talk to you.” Then she hurried over to the phone and answered it.

To his left, Natalie drew in another deep breath, held it, then slowly exhaled as she turned her head to look at him. There was a crease between her graceful brows, the gray of her eyes clouded with confusion. “She’s your sister?”

“Half-sister. We have the same mother, but different dads. I never got to spend much time with her, living up in San Francisco. That’s why all the dinners at Manolo’s. She’s trying to start a tradition, making sure we get to know each other better. Paul’s actually meant to join us, but he keeps making excuses.”

“Okay.” She wet her lips, then spoke at a careful, deliberate pace. “You could have just told me. You could have just explained that I had the wrong idea and needed to mind my own damn business. Doing it this way—it wasn’t very nice.”

He shot her a shuttered look. “Yeah, well, neither are you most of the time,” he argued quietly.

“You really do think I’m a bitch, don’t you?” she murmured, crossing her arms over her middle, almost like she was trying to protect herself from his answer.

Rubbing the back of his neck, he gave her an honest response. “I think you’re cynical. And I also think there’s a reason…a story that explains why.”

She scoffed and shook her head, her shadowed gaze sliding away. “Of course there’s a story. But don’t worry, I won’t bore you with the gruesome details.”

“You’re a lot of things, Natalie Richards, but boring isn’t one of them.” His voice dropped as he added, “And no, I don’t really think you’re a bitch.”

Almost too softly to hear, she said, “Oh.”

His brows lifted with disbelief. “That’s it? Just oh. No heartfelt apology?”

“Apology for what?” she asked, finally obeying his silent command for her to look at him again. “You’re still a manwhore.”

His next breath left his lungs in a sharp, frustrated burst. “Are you kidding me? You know I’m not involved with Peyton. We’re fucking family.”

She actually rolled her freaking eyes at him. “Come on, Sean. Are you forgetting all the women I’ve seen you with, weekend after weekend?”

“Ah, Christ. Seriously? You’re going to throw them in my face? They’re not…they don’t. Jesus, Natalie, I hardly even know those women!”

Her shoulders rose and fell with her next breath, as she looked away again. “Look, I’m glad you brought me here. It actually makes me feel better,” she said, nodding toward Peyton, “knowing that poor girl isn’t getting her heart broken. But it doesn’t change anything.”

Ready to roar like a damn madman, he muttered something foul under his breath, and scrubbed his hands down his face. Needing some fucking air, he walked over to Peyton, who sounded like she was trying to deal with a demanding customer, and kissed her cheek, whispering that he’d call her. She gave him the death glare she’d perfected at the tender age of three, obviously pissed that he was bailing without any explanation, and he swore he could feel the heat from those green eyes burning against the back of his head until he’d finally made it back outside.

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