Changing Tides (Kill Devil Hills Book 2) (16 page)

“Can I bring you anything else?” Rhett offered.

“Yes,” I said. “You better say I requested you as a server when you walk back into that kitchen, Rhett, if you want to live. I’ve seen the desperate way that one server named Chelsea looks at anyone with a Y-chromosome. She’ll want to kill you for this.”

He rolled his eyes at me.

“I’m dead serious. Oh, and, could you please bring me my check from my other table? I want to close it out—if it is still open. And I left my bag over there. Think you could get it back? Pretty, pretty please.”

Rhett nodded. Then without cracking a single joke, he left us.

After he left, the polite chit-chat continued. David seemed nice. He was leading the conversation—telling me more about their family, about growing up in Florida, and about what Nathanial was like as a kid. And it was all interesting stuff—don’t get me wrong, I was super absorbed in the conversation and found myself wanting to learn everything I could about Nathanial—but I so desperately wanted to know why he was suddenly here, suddenly sitting beside me in a booth at Chancy’s Claw, that it was eating me up inside. Of all places, I never would have imaged him showing up here on a random Wednesday afternoon.

But I was too chicken-shit to ask why.

Instead lunch continued. Then before I knew it, the plates were cleared, the check was paid, and it was well past time for me to leave and get back to work

“We should probably get going, little brother,” David announced. “We’ve got a lot to do. And you only have me here for another twenty-four hours. I’m good, but I’m no
t
tha
t
good.”

“You’re right,” Nathanial said.

I scooted out of the booth so he could get out. I had no idea what David meant by ‘a lot to do’ and Nathanial did not elaborate. Actually, he’d been the quietest I’d ever heard him throughout our entire meal—answering questions but never saying more than a sentence here or there to me. And I half expected him to leave the restaurant without acknowledging that we meant more to one another than he’d shown thus far. Then again, maybe he’d seen me today and hadn’t felt the same sparks between us this time around. Maybe this was it. Maybe he wouldn’t be back to see me after this.

So when he wrapped his arms around my shoulders as he stood from the booth, and pulled me in close for a hug—it surprised the hell out of me. He was warm and hard and the strength of his arms around made me feel more like a woman than I think I’d ever felt.

“I know it’s not Friday yet, but can I call you tonight?” he asked softly.

I merely nodded, my mouth unable to form sentences. I stared up at him as he held me for a second longer. He moved his hand to brush my hair away from my face—hair that wasn’t really in my face. His fingers gently trailed against my skin. Every inch of me went soft.

I guessed I’d been wrong. Very wrong. Those same sparks were there and stronger than ever. He looked down at me like there was no one else in the room. Our little moment only lasted a moment, but I knew I was going to think about it for the rest of the day.

We said goodbye. I stood in place watching as he left with his brother. The ding of the bell on the door followed him outside into the cold. Then he was gone.

I realized I was standing in the middle of Chancy’s Claw jus
t
standin
g
there. The room was even spinning a little. Holy shit
.
What was this man doing to me?

CHAPTER 17:

NATHANIAL

P
icking a place here to rent, possibly to buy, was much harder than I ever expected. The entire day so far had been exhausting—a nonstop parade of house after house. The Sandy Shores Reality company had sent over a nice woman to help us, though. I’d forgotten her name, but she was knowledgeable, energetic, and determined.

“Did you like the restaurant I recommended?” she asked when we met again after lunch. She led us up the wooden steps to the deck of house number eight. “I know Chancy’s Claw seems like a hole in the wall and half the chairs are plastic, but the food is always good. My kids love it.”

“Yes,” David said politely, “the food was delicious. Thank you for the recommendation.”

For a million dollars, I could not remember what the food tasted like. I’d been too distracted by a girl with pretty blue eyes to care. Seeing Ellie again so soon had been unexpected. I hadn’t even planned on telling her I was in town for at least a few more days. So when Rhett had walked over to my table—acting like a giddy school girl—I’d known immediately she was in the same room.

“Once again,” the relator woman said, “you can walk through first and then we can discuss what you liked and disliked after. I think we’re getting closer to finding what you want. I hope this might be it.”

“Thank you,” David told her and we went inside without her. “This is nice,” he said once we were alone, immediately assessing the place. “It’s furnished. It’s clean. It has charm. It’s oceanfront. It has enough bedrooms for the whole family to come visit. Renting or buying is an option. This could work.”

By furnished he meant the wicker furniture that had been painted white several times in its lifetime and was chipping off everywhere. All of it would have to be replaced. By clean he meant the place didn’t smell. By charm he meant the walls were made out of wood paneling and there were pictures of boats everywhere. But the view was good. Really good, actually. The lot of land the house sat on was large and I liked the location. Plus, this one happened to be in my price range.

Could I afford something better? Yes, easily. But I already owned a multi-million dollar home in California—a home I loved. Buying a second house was already a big enough gamble in itself. I didn’t want it to also be an
expensive
gamble.

“Let me look at the condition of the bedrooms,” I said to David. Then I bolted up the stairs, taking them two at a time.

But the real truth was…I needed a moment alone to think. And
—
surprise, surpris
e
—the upstairs was equally as mediocre as the downstairs. Nothing stood out, but none of it was too horrible. Still, unease had my stomach churning.

What if I was making a huge mistake
?
This was insane. Right?

I was buying a house in a town I knew next to nothing about. All because I had a crush on a girl. It was crazy. I wanted to date Ellie. I wanted her to know I was serious. But I didn’t want to freak her the fuck out either. Hell, I was starting to the freak myself the fuck out.

I sat down on the master bed, cautiously because the bedding scared me a little, and dropped my head into my hands, more confused than ever.

“Here’s what I think you should do,” David said, startling me by appearing in the doorway. “You buy this place.”

“Seriously?”

David was the practical one, the one with the kids and the family, the one who only took calculated risks and always made the right choices.

Not me.

Hell, I had a scar on my face to prove it too. Because I ran my mouth once and ended up provoking some asshole in a bar. He’d smashed his beer bottle down on the counter and when he’d swung at me with what was left of the glass, he’d nearly taken my eye. All because I couldn’t shut up about something stupid. Then that man had pulled out a gun. David had been there. David had talked the man down and some sense into an intoxicated me. That night I’d walked away needing a few stitches but lucky to be alive. That had proved it—I could be incredibly reckless, but never David.

So it shocked the hell out of me that he would even suggest I buy.

David rubbed his hands together and then walked over to the window. He stood very still, watching the waves silently crash against the sand outside. “Susan the realtor said this place is available for rent immediately. Not many of the others can offer such a quick move in. You can be in here today if you take this one. You’ll have to rent first no matter what because buying takes time—between inspections and negotiations, it could be a few months before you officially own this place. But you can put in an offer in the meantime. The house might not be the best, but the view is fabulous and the floorplan has potential. With some renovations this place could be amazing.”

“What if it doesn’t work out with Ellie?” I asked.

In actuality
that
was my biggest fear.

“Then you end up with a rental property. With some work, this place could have great earning potential. Think of it as an investment either way. Besides, I like Ellie. She’s the type of girl you gamble on. I feel it. Don’t you?”

I let out a breath. “Yes.” He was right. Ellie was worth the risk. “Let’s do this. Go get the realtor lady.”

“Her name is Susan.”

“Whatever. Go get Susan.”

* * *

David and I spent the rest of the afternoon shopping and running errands. We found a specialty furniture store within a few miles of my new place. And in under an hour, David helped me buy everything I needed to replace all the wicker furniture—all of it set to be delivered later in the week. They’d even haul away all the old stuff. Where was this place in LA when I needed it?

After the furniture store, we stocked up on food, toiletries, cleaning supplies, and all the basics. Thank goodness this town had a Walmart or we would have been screwed. Because we also needed sheets, towels, pillows, and about a million other things. It was a damn long day and I was exhausted by the end of it.

It was remarkable the things my brother could accomplish. I’d known he was the perfect person to bring here to help—but he exceeded my expectations and then some today.

“Tomorrow I’m relaxing,” he sleepily informed me as he headed off to the bedroom he’d claimed as his own. “I’m kid free for once in my life and I’m taking advantage of it.”

“Fair enough. And thank you for everything. You’re amazing.”

“Anytime, little brother. Goodnight,” he said, closing his door and yawning at the same time.

I went to my new bedroom. The sheets, comforter, and pillows were all brand new. And it felt really nice knowing that this was mine. Well, nearly. Susan the realtor was drawing up the papers and once I submitted an offer it might take months—but I was on my way to owning this place. The whole house needed a lot more attention, but I felt good about my decision to buy.

Snuggling into my new bed, I felt almost euphoric. Because it was
finally
the end of the day so that meant it was finally time to call the one person I’d been thinking about nonstop since I’d left her at lunch time—Ellie.

Grabbing my phone off the night stand, I texted her before calling. She hadn’t texted me all day, so I wanted to make sure she wasn’t busy first.

Me: Can I call you? Is now a good time?

Her reply came quickly.

Ellie: No.

What?

I waited for her to text again, with some sort of an explanation, but that one horrible word was all she gave me. Opening a new internet page on my phone, I quickly googled myself. Who the hell knows what sort of slander she might have read online today? Because I couldn’t think of any other explanation for such a cold reply from her.

Sure enough, there was a brand new article involving me and Kelly
:
Dragon Wars Couple Gets Cozy at Entertainment Photo Shoot.
Could that be the reason she didn’t want me to call?

The article embellished everything too—said Kelly had been sitting on my lap and we’d been ‘touching each other inappropriately.’ It was ridiculous. I dealt with this shit all the time and had learned to ignore most of it. But Ellie wasn’t used to it and I couldn’t blame her if she was upset.

So I dialed her number. Because there was no way we weren’t talking this evening. It wasn’t Friday, but screw Friday. I’d waited long enough for this phone call.

After several rings she answered—or rather, Rhett answered. “Hey, Nate,” came his voice. “How are you feeling, man?”

“Who gives a fuck how I’m feeling?” I snapped. I was cranky from this long day and, frankly, annoyed that I was speaking with him instead of Ellie. “Why are you answering her phone?”

“I don’t know if it was the shrimp at Chancy’s or what. I feel fine and I ate her leftovers, so that can’t be it,” he rambled. “She said she didn’t eat anything else all day and Ellie usually doesn’t have a weak stomach, but something gave her bad food poisoning.”

“She’s sick?” I asked, confused. I’d had the same thing she’d had at lunch too.

“Yes. That’s what I literally just said,” he groaned. “I had to leave work early to go pick her up because she called me and said she felt dizzy—like too dizzy to drive. She’s been kind of out of it all afternoon and has vomited a couple times. She seems much better now though—just tired and groggy. Don’t worry, I’ll have her call you first thing in the morning. But she says she doesn’t want to talk to you right now.”

“Give me your address,” I said calmly. Climbing out of bed, I started searching for my shoes, coat, and the keys to the rental car. I needed to be where she was immediately. This didn’t sound like food poisoning at all.

“I can’t do that. She’d chop me into a million pieces if I did that.”

“Please, Rhett. If the girl you liked was really sick wouldn’t you want to be there for her?”

“Yep,” he said without any more hesitation. “Fine. We live at 1036 Clam Shell Drive. When she kills me for letting you over without her permission, the funeral costs are on you. You better make it nice and have Bon Jovi there, serenading the crowd.” Then he hung up on me.

Bon Jovi? What?

Repeating the address he’d given me over and over in my head, I left the house without my coat and without telling David goodbye. I had a really bad feeling about this. Coincidentally, Clam Shell Drive was less than a mile away. We were practically neighbors
.
Thank God
.
It made me instantly happy with today’s house hunting decision. I drove the short distance, parked in Ellie’s driveway, raced from the car to her front door, nearly tripped over some giant cactus she had growing in her yard, and burst inside the house.

“Where is she?” I demanded when I ran right into Rhett.

“Calm down. She’s fine. She’s sleeping it off now.”

I wasn’t going to calm down. Hurrying down the hall, I started checking rooms. Ellie’s was the first one I went to. She looked peaceful, fast asleep, curled up in a little ball on top of her covers. But I wasn’t satisfied with that. Because I’d seen this before. Drugs were prevalent at some of the celebrity parties I’d been to in the past and the symptoms Rhett had described—the dizziness, the vomiting, and the tiredness—that didn’t remind me of food poisoning.

I was taking Ellie to the hospital. I was getting her blood tested. Because I needed to be sure.