Blindsided (12 page)

He stopped about a foot from her door and shoved his hands in his pockets. The day had turned cooler, and, surprise, surprise, gray and overcast. His leather jacked provided him with enough warmth, but he noticed Chelsea was wearing just a t-shirt. That worried him, and the fact that it worried him worried him even more. Yeesh. What a dork he was becoming.

“Hi,” she said. She turned to look at him and he was once again struck by her beauty, by those green eyes and full lips.

“I’m sorry. You were right. It was my choice to make that offer, and you had every right to decide whatever you wanted. I just wanted to say that,” he said, wanting it out of the way. A more disciplined man would have walked away then, but he’d never been known for that particular virtue.

“You drove two hours out of your way to tell me you’re sorry?” Chelsea said. She raised her eyebrow and looked at him incredulously.

Oh great. Now he had to explain why he was basically stalking her.

“Not just that. I wanted to make sure you got home ok. Bunny may have a new head gasket, but I’m still not sure about the rest of her,” he said. That and I really like having sex with you. He left those words unsaid. A wise choice, he thought.

Chelsea glanced down at the steering wheel and blew out a breath. For a long moment she said nothing and Nate wondered if he was being ignored.

The tension was broken by a man nearly as tall as Nate running up to them. The guy glanced at him and Nate stiffened as recognition crossed the other man’s face. This was not what he needed right now.

“Chelsea, where the hell are you going to go? You can’t run off again. I don’t care if you don’t want to stay with me, but you have three weeks left of your sabbatical and you know it,” the man said, wedging himself between Nate and the car and leaning down, shoving his face in the window.

“I’m going to go to Nate’s house,” Chelsea said without looking at either of them.

Well, that was news to him. Good news, but news.

“This is my brother Tony, Tony, Nate Stone,” Chelsea said as she stepped out of the car, nearly knocking Tony over as she opened the door.

When Tony’s gaze shifted back to him, Chelsea shot Nate a pleading look and gestured for him to just go with it. At least that’s what it looked like. She turned it into fixing her hair when Tony looked back at her.

Then he quickly looked back at Nate and Nate knew there was no way the guy was going to be distracted this time. He was in for the whole ‘Oh, god, you’re Nate Stone’ thing. There were few things he hated more.

Then Tony surprised the hell out of Nate by rounding on his sister and saying, “Okay, I’m game. You’re going to go stay with a rock star. Why not. Knock yourself out. I’m going to go deal with the mess you left. Nice meeting you,” he said to Nate, and then he was walking away.

Halfway back to his condo, Tony turned around.

“I’m sick of cleaning up your messes, kid,” he called back to Chelsea, “I love you, but this is the last one. And I hope you know what you’re doing.” He gave Nate a pointed look before he turned and walked the rest of the way to the condo.

It had been a long time since an older brother had been wary of him, instead of star struck. He liked it.

As for the rest of it, Nate was baffled, but he’d been thrown off balance by Chelsea since the moment she’d strolled up his walkway. Why should now be any different? He had no idea what mess needed to be cleaned up, but god love Tony for doing it.

“Sorry,” Chelsea said, once Tony was back inside the condo, “I just didn’t feel like telling him I had nowhere to go. I’m going to go to a hotel. Thanks for covering for me.”

“No problem,” Nate said. He started to turn back to his car. His work here was done, and now he had to walk away from her. He caught a mischievous grin on her face that made him stop.

“Unless your still up for that plan of yours. What if instead of dating for a week, I live with you?”

Nate’s pulse raced at the thought of more Chelsea-filled days, plus nights to go with them, but he played it cool. It was his job and he was damn good at it.

“I don’t know,” he said, pretending to think it over, as if she hadn’t just offered him some type of Nirvana, “You look like you’re getting ready to run off to some exotic locale. Do you have time to date someone? Especially someone like me?”

He couldn’t resist that last comment. Yeah, it sounded bitter, but maybe he was. She certainly took it that way, and she looked truly upset at having caused it. She moved closer, so close that she had to tilt her head way back to look up at him, so close he could swear the tips of her breasts were touching his jacket. Jesus. From respectable to half hard in no time flat.

“Nate, I’m sorry I said that. I’m sorry I lumped you in to a stereotype like that. I have to leave here.” She held up her hand to stop him when he started to ask why.

“What changed your mind? Besides your current homelessness, of course,” Nate said with a grin.

He was being used, but what the hell. He’d used enough people for a place to stay. Maybe this was karma. And he’d take anything that would get him close to Chelsea.

With her staying with him, it would be even tougher to keep his hands off her, but he’d take it. Seeing her every day, nearly every minute. It was more than had he had hoped for.

“If you followed me home, you’re at the very least not as bad a boy as I thought,” Chelsea said finally, avoiding his eyes.

###

Nate knew she meant it as a compliment, an apology, an explanation for her acquiescence, but the more he thought about it, the more worrying it became. Now he had to prove he hadn’t been lying, fooling himself into thinking that he was past his bad boy days. Hell, his temper still flared high and hot, action still preceded thought most of the time and heaven knew he lost track of time working on the Mustang and the hog. The real question was, did he still break hearts the way he used to? That he didn’t know, but it was clearly the most important to Chelsea.

When the strange turn of events outside Tony’s condo had led them to an unlikely caravan of muscle car and go kart headed for his house, he had felt triumphant. Now he could see what all those strings he’d hand tied really meant. Way to go, he thought wryly. Way to think before you act.

Having her stick around to get to know him might fuck him over worse than a one night stand. She’d probably decide that he was delusional and hadn’t changed much at all, decide that he was exactly the bad boy she had tried so hard to avoid. Maybe he was just a pretty face with a killer grin and the soul of a snake.

A smart person would have asked someone, Maddy or Bill, hell, even Sean, if he had any right claiming to have grown out of his bad boy ways. Sure, they had known him forever so their views would be colored by the past anyway, but at least it would give him some warning. A little warning would be good when he’d just laid himself on the line to try to impress the first woman he’d felt anything for in… How long? Ever, he realized grimly.

Maddy and Bill rarely missed a chance to tell him he was a cold hearted son of a bitch to have never fallen in love in thirty eight years. Only he knew that couldn’t have been farther from the truth. He was probably too soft hearted when it came right down to it. It was a secret he hid as best he could. He’d fallen in lust, even had a few relationships for the sake of the companionship, but he always kept something back and the women always sensed it. The last thing he needed was to get inextricably involved. He knew damn well he wouldn’t be able to handle it when it all inevitably went to hell. So he restrained himself out of protection.

Until yesterday. Yesterday had blown his careful compartmentalization all to hell. Chelsea had blown it all to hell. She hid nothing, held nothing back and something in him responded. He craved the freedom to simply let his emotions run wild. For years, he’d hidden everything behind anger. And yesterday, as he watched the range of emotions run over Chelsea’s face, he’d been sick of it. He’d realized what he was missing.

That was a thought. If her face started to show panic, distrust, anything that indicated that she was questioning her decision, he would rethink whatever idiotic thing he was up to. Hopefully, he could straddle the line between acting like someone he wasn’t and acting like the complete asshole he knew damn well he could be.

###

You can handle this, Chelsea told herself. One week of utter frustration, one more phenomenal night in Nate’s bed and then she’d never see him again. Two weeks later she’d be gone. She had managed to salvage her safe bad boy fling. No fuss, no muss, all the pleasure and none of the pain. On Saturday, she’d leave Nate’s a sexually satisfied woman, complete with an intact heart. She would outwit that smile of his, all sexual promise and mischievous charm. This time, it would end on her terms.

When Nate had appeared back at Tony’s Chelsea had nearly wept with relief. She’d had no plan, no idea what she was going to do. Her need to flee from Annabelle had overpowered her common sense and she’d panicked, or what Tony called the classic Chelsea cut and run. Then Nate had walked across the street, 6 feet 5 inches of salvation and sexiness. It had all seemed perfect, her badass boy toy ready to deliver her from the hands of her mother. Then he’d told her he’d followed her to make sure she was safe and her ambivalence about him had ratcheted up several notches.

What Chelsea had learned about bad boy relationships during her life was fairly straight forward: they were idyllic in the beginning, a roller coaster of euphoric highs and devastating lows in the middle, and tear-filled, bitter and ugly at the end. Every time her she had felt herself falling for Nate, she had reminded herself that they were still at the beginning. It was the honeymoon period, and that was all. She didn’t want to stick around to watch Nate morph into the true horror she knew must lie beneath his current kindness.

Unfortunately, even the nicest beginning behavior didn’t include driving two hours out of the way to make sure you were ok. That didn’t mesh at all. Typically, the sweetness was more about perception, spin. It was a romantic gesture that seemed big, but took almost no effort; careful withholding of action, making every small gesture seem grand; buying you a drink after you’d paid his cable, phone and water bills; writing a song about you while you were gone, while screwing everyone in heels and perfume. It was words that cost nothing and small chivalries worth even less.

It wasn’t spending four hours under your car then driving two hours, all with no expectations. And bad boys were overwhelmingly cocky. Nate was confident, but when Tony had recognized him, Nate had been very uncomfortable. He hadn’t reveled in the attention or bragged or swaggered or anything. He had – blushed. How bad could he be if he blushed?

“This would be easier if he was just the selfish asshole he was supposed to be,” Chelsea muttered to herself.

It was long dark by the time Chelsea pulled into the driveway, Nate close behind her. She was exhausted, could feel sleepiness taking over every inch of her body. She met Nate at the front door and waited for him to open the door. Instead, put an arm around her waist, hand splayed possessively over her bottom, lightly stroking her throat with his other hand. Every cell in her body responded to his nearness, his touch.

“Last chance to walk away,” he said quietly. He locked her with his gaze and she swallowed hard.

“I’m not going anywhere,” she said.

Chapter 7

Honestly, Tony thought, the woman was insane. He wondered if all women were like this or if he was just incredibly unlucky. He hadn’t had enough experience with women besides Jen to know if her behavior was normal. Chelsea didn’t count, being his sister. Sisters were supposed to be a pain in the ass, especially baby sisters.

How could Jen expect him to just drop his life and move to Santa Fe with her? When he’d finally gotten up the nerve to call her, that was what she’d wanted to talk about. She’d decided that he had to either give up his life or she would be out of it forever, which would amount to the same thing in a less sexually fulfilling package. Did she mean it this time? She’d gone into inscrutable mode and he couldn’t tell. Either way, now wasn’t exactly the best time for her to be dropping this kind of a bomb on him.

He had enough problems, all of them revolving around women, thank you very much. Annabelle was staying with him for an indefinite amount of time, and, as usual, Chelsea had headed for the hills. Not that he blamed her. He’d do the same if he could. Chelsea found his tolerance for their mother remarkable, but in truth, it was more that he ignored her as best he could. It was his best defense against the mother who had raised them both while in the clutches of a deep bitterness about their father.

Chelsea was another problem altogether. Granted, she had been practicing the cut and run deal since they were kids, but it was getting a bit old by now. He didn’t want to be the intermediary for Chelsea and Annabelle anymore. Let them butt their pretty little heads. He wanted out of the middle. Chelsea was a big girl now, but he still protected her from their mother.

Tony paced his living room, slugging back his coffee without really tasting it or even registering the hot liquid. It was simply something to occupy his body while his mind ran around in circles. Thankfully, his mother had been out of the house when he and Jen had engaged in their latest heated discussion.