Hide Your Heart: A New Zealand Small Town Romance (Sexy New Zealand Beach Romance Far North Book 1) (5 page)

Lauren crutch-hopped behind her and puffed to a halt beside Todd. Kathy tugged her husband back a step and beamed at Nate, while Lauren blurted out the introductions. Afterward, Nate smiled and shook hands with Kathy, then extended his hand to Todd.

Todd hesitated until Lauren delivered a sharp pinch to his thigh.

“Shake hands and stop acting like the schoolyard bully,” she muttered.

“Ow, sis. Jeez, go easy.” He rubbed his leg but poked out his hand with a grimaced smile and a
“women…what can you do?”
eye roll.

“Now that we’re all mates, I’ll put on the kettle.” Kathy glanced behind her as she went inside.

Lauren followed Kathy’s gaze to the empty trailer on the back of Todd’s truck. Her stomach tightened. “Where’s the Camaro you were supposed to pick up?”

Todd draped a thick arm across her shoulder. “Ah, yeah. Here’s the thing. The deal fell through.”

Fell through? Restoring the Camaro should’ve taken them through the Christmas period well into the New Year. “What? Why?”

“We showed up at the guy’s doorstep, and his old lady’s bawling—said he’d been arrested and all his assets frozen.”

Lauren limped to a deck chair and lowered herself into it, never taking her eyes from Todd’s hound-dog expression.

“Something’ll come up,” he said.

“Two and a half weeks before Christmas?”

Unlikely. Nobody was hiring casual laborers this time of the year. God, what was Todd going to do? Almost all her savings from modeling was invested in her house and land. She and Drew lived frugally enough that this wouldn’t hit her finances too hard. Todd, however, had a mortgage and a family to support.

“Of course something’ll come up—”

“Work for me.” Nate interrupted, his deep voice shattering the strained silence.

Both she and Todd swiveled toward him.

Lauren managed to speak first. “Work for you?”

Nate nodded.

Todd shifted his weight from foot to foot. “Fixing Mac’s place? You gonna live there?”

Nate walked to the deck’s fenced edge and looked out over the rolling hills of native bush. “No. I have a buyer who plans to turn it into a top-notch celebrity resort, but the homestead is worse off than I’d been led to believe.”

“You didn’t eyeball it first?” asked Todd.

“Old Mac was a friend of my granddad’s. I visited him about five years ago, and the house wasn’t so bad then.”

“Mac’s grandson never cared a penny for his granddad’s place,” Lauren said.

“He spent a few pennies painting the roof so it’d look good in the photos he sent.” Nate turned back to Todd’s wry grin.

“Slippery SOB that Tom MacPherson.”

“Buck stops with me. I should’ve inspected the property.” Nate rubbed his thumb across his top lip. “No one in town is taking on new jobs, and your name cropped up. I need someone with building experience and who pays attention to detail.”

“Why do you think I’m your guy?”

“I saw the Cadillac in your workshop while I was parking Lauren’s car. Your work, I presume?”

Todd shook his head. “The Caddy is Lauren and our dad’s baby.”

Lauren fumbled with her crutches and lurched out of the chair. “You snooped through our workshop?”

“It’s a beautiful machine, and I’m naturally curious.”

“Nosy, more like it.” Photojournalist or reporter, she couldn’t let her guard down.

“Where do you drive it around here?” Nate said.

“I don’t.”

A car like this is for driving, sweetpea—soon as she’s mint, you and I will cruise the Bays.
Though the heart attack had taken him when she was fourteen, her father’s voice played through her head with excruciating clarity.

Lauren swallowed and met Nate’s gaze. “We use it to show prospective clients.”

Todd moved to stand beside her, glancing over his shoulder at Kathy whistling in the kitchen. “Back to this job offer.”

“But…” Lauren said. Todd couldn’t seriously consider working for this man, could he? Actually helping him get the property ready for some fancy-pants developer? She’d been so careful, so diligent in keeping her and Drew away from the voracious eye of the media. And here was Nate, planning to bring a pack of paparazzi right next door.

Todd cut her a glance, tiny beads of sweat popping out on his forehead. But oh, dammit, her brother really did need the cash.

Hands on hips, she lifted her chin. “Bottom line. How much will you pay him?”

“Now he knows I’m desperate,” Todd added with a twist of his lips.

“My deadline’s February first, when Martin Davis arrives for an inspection. If it’s not completed to his requirements, the deal’s off.” Nate named a dollar figure and laid out the terms.

Todd’s bushy eyebrows shot up. “That’s very generous. Lauren?”

She knew what he asked. Even though he was only six years her senior, her big brother couldn’t help but try to take care of her and everyone else in his immediate circle. Todd needed this job, but she needed Nate to sell to someone other than Martin Davis. Talk about being hamstrung. Hamstrung—but unable to deny Todd this opportunity.

“Looks like you’ve got your Christmas miracle.”

The charming grin Nate directed her way promised the kind of treats most women would kill to find in their beds on Christmas morning. Luckily, she wasn’t most women—past experience having taught her charming men were the most dangerous of all.

Chapter 3

Kathy passed Lauren a mug of tea as the rumble of the Range Rover’s engine faded, replaced with Sophie and Drew’s shouts as they kicked a ball around the lawn.

“He seems like a nice enough fella, regardless of all the gossip about him.” Kathy passed another mug to Todd.

He reached for a muffin and she smacked his hand.

“And,” she added, “he can’t be half-bad if he’s offered good money for you to swing a hammer, love.”

Todd filched a muffin the moment Kathy turned her back and stuffed a huge chunk in his mouth. He then tossed the last quarter to Java, who snapped it out of mid-air. “What are you on about, woman? He’s just some photographer, isn’t he?”

“Photojournalist,” Lauren mumbled.

Knowing him for less than twenty-four hours, she still couldn’t visualize him in a studio, fussing with family portraits and wailing babies. She remembered his description of a photojournalist. Nate wasn’t a noun, either; he was one intense verb.

She sat straighter, glanced at her sister-in-law who was sipping her tea with a smug smile. Nothing happening in town—or anywhere else in the world of entertainment—got past Kathy Taylor and her five sisters.

Kathy relented and set her mug down with a sigh. “I can’t believe you don’t know who Nate Fraser is. His photo book’s on our bookshelf—Louisa bought it for us last Christmas.”

Comprehension dawned on her brother’s face. “Oh,
that
book. He takes some good pictures…So why’s he interested in Mac’s place?”

“To get away from the scandal he left behind in the city, perhaps.”

Todd leaned forward. “Scandal?”

Apprehension, like fine tendrils of chilled spider silk, alighted on Lauren’s bare arms, and she shivered.

Kathy took another sip of her tea, obviously milking the moment. “Remember that actress, Savannah Payne? She moved back to N.Z last year. She’s on that
High
Rollers
show I like and you hate?”

“The one with the most bodacious rack—?”

Kathy turned a cool eye on her husband. He shrank into his chair and ducked behind his cup.

“That’s her. According to my online sources, she and Nate were in a bar six months ago having a drink. Then Savannah’s husband shows up, and a fight breaks out. Nate gave him a couple of black eyes and a split lip. There was speculation they were carrying on behind hubby’s back—not a good look for one of the
New Zealand’s Bachelor of the Year
finalists.”

Todd lowered the mug and looked from his wife to Lauren. “For real?”

Kathy nodded, her wild brown curls bouncing. “Yep, and not much later, Savannah’s off to the States and got herself a quickie divorce.”

Lauren wrapped her fingers around the mug’s warmth. For all his size and the restless strength lurking beneath his controlled exterior, she couldn’t reconcile the man who’d been so gentle with Drew with the man who’d supposedly attacked another without provocation.

The sharp nip of fear bit her yesterday at their first meeting, but did he frighten her now? She studied the wisps of steam rising from the tea. Nate disturbed her, and up close, he electrified all her senses. But physical fear? Oddly, no. He didn’t stir that emotion inside her.

“You won’t have anything more to do with him, Laur, that’s for certain.” Todd kicked his feet up onto her coffee table.

Kathy tutted. “Don’t be overly dramatic, love. Men are always getting in scraps over one thing or another. Lauren, of all people, understands how the media twists things, don’t you?”

Lauren’s head bobbled in agreement, but the muffin she’d eaten sat heavy in her stomach. “Who knows what really happened.”

“Well, regardless—keep away from him. I don’t want my sister anywhere near another violent asshole.”

Lauren clutched the hot mug so tightly her fingertips burned. She placed the cup back on the coffee table before she spilled the contents. “He’s not Jonathan Knight, and you don’t make decisions for me.”

“Like the decisions you made up until you divorced that New York prick were good ones?”

“Todd Taylor, get your feet off my coffee table and shut your damn mouth.” Lauren jabbed a finger at him. “You don’t get to say who I can and can’t talk to, and I
will
be talking to Nate. I have to rationally and strategically change his mind about his plans for Mac’s place.”

She looked away from her brother, huffing out a strangled groan at Kathy’s amused scrutiny. “And this is funny, because?”

Kathy’s grin spread even wider. “Rationally and strategically?”

“Yes. I’m sure he’s a sensible man who’ll consider other options.” Lauren smoothed down her shorts. Surely, from across the room, her sister-in-law couldn’t see how her palms grew damp just thinking about Nate. “One fist fight doesn’t make him violent, especially if you’re using the same yardstick you measure yourself with.”

Todd snorted. “Yeah, whatever. But you’re still making too big of a deal out of this whole thing. So what if a few rich suits or some B-grade actress from a telly soap wants to spend a weekend up here?”

“It’s not the suits or actresses who worry me—and you know it.”

“When are you gonna stop hiding and live again, Laur? Are you still afraid of Knight; is that it? Because you act like it.”

“Todd,” Kathy said in gentle warning.

“I’m not afraid of Jonathan. I just don’t want my face—and Drew’s face—plastered all over some trashy gossip magazine. I don’t want them speculating how Sexy Lexy ended up with a screwed-up face and a screwed-up life.”

Todd leaned forward, pumped up and ready for a sibling fight-to-the-death. “Screwed-up life? I thought you were happy.”

Now look at what she’d started. She loved her life here with her brother and sister-in-law and their extended family. But some days—some days she yearned for more. A more where she could run into Bounty Bay’s supermarket without feeling as if she were on a covert mission. A more where chatting to other mums at Drew’s preschool wouldn’t bring on a bout of paranoia, wondering if they’d seen past her dyed hair and lack of makeup. A more where strong arms and hot kisses soothed her to sleep at night, and she had something other than insomnia to keep her company.

“You know what I mean. I
am
happy here, and that’s why I don’t want some two-bit reporter like Nate Fraser—”

“Photojournalist,” her ever-helpful sibling pointed out.

“Changing everything,” Lauren finished.

“And how will making him your best buddy help?”

“What would you suggest I do otherwise to change his mind, brother dearest?” Lauren cocked her eyebrow. “Blow up Mac’s place? A spot of arson, perhaps?”

Todd threw up his hands, flopping back against the couch. Java whined sympathetically and stretched up to lick the side of Todd’s cheek.

Lauren folded her arms and rolled her eyes. “Look, Todd. I’m not planning to make him my buddy, but remember Dad always said you catch more flies with honey than with vinegar.”

Kathy’s warm chuckle rolled around the room. “Absolutely. And the way you two have been eyeballing each other? Nate’s hot enough to melt
you
into a puddle of honey.”

“That’s ridiculous.” So
not
ridiculous, since it appeared her emotional thermostat had gone haywire where Nate was concerned.

“He touches her and I’ll kill him.” Todd stood and stalked outside.

Lauren met Kathy’s eyes. “It’s not like that. It’s purely professional.”

Kathy came over, pressed her cheek to Lauren’s and whispered, “Then why are you blushing, little
teina
?”

***

By the middle of the week Lauren could walk without crutches—fortunately for her, as a client’s ’63 Impala needed its radiator reinstalled.

With Drew in preschool and her ear buds blaring Lady Antebellum at a teeth-rattling volume, Lauren tightened mounting bolts in the Impala’s engine bay. She couldn’t carry a tune if her life was in jeopardy, but that didn’t stop her shaking her tail feather as she attempted to harmonize with Charles Kelley’s sex-on-a-stick voice.

The tap on her shoulder catapulted her heart past her vocal chords, and she narrowly missed clunking her head on the hood as she whirled around. Nate stood in sawdust-speckled blue jeans with one hand still raised, green eyes twinkling.

“Sorry.” The flash of white teeth behind his firm lips translated the word as Lady A. continued to blare.

Tugging out the ear buds, she sucked in a deep breath and tried to slow her heartbeat by shoving a fist against her chest.

“Sorry,” he repeated. “I did knock, but you were, ah, kind of engrossed under there.”

His gaze flicked to her coveralls. Her unsexy, grease-smeared coveralls that sometimes rode up her rear end when she bent over.

Heat speared through her, and she half turned aside, switching off the music and stuffing the ear buds into her pocket. “Not your fault; I was in the zone, and I didn’t hear you arrive.”

Nate moved to stand next to her, ducking a little to peer under the Impala’s hood. Chrome gleamed, the V-8 engine so clean she’d bet a month’s wages Nate couldn’t find a speck of dirt on it—or anywhere else in her workshop.

“Nice car. Are you almost done?”

She swiped a finger across her lips, hoping she didn’t have the remains of this morning’s muesli bar snack smeared around her mouth. “Todd’s mostly finished the bodywork and I’m just working on the last of the mechanical stuff.”

Hands well away from her handiwork, Nate stepped back, glancing toward the organized benches loaded with her dad’s tools, then looking across to the small, sectioned-off area with a fold-out futon couch where Drew often played with his toy cars while she worked.

“You’ve got quite a set up here. Your dad must be proud of the work you’re both doing. Does he live nearby too?”

“No.” And because she didn’t want to field any more awkward questions, she added, “He died when I was a teenager.”

“I’m sorry. Todd mentioned the Caddy was yours and your dad’s…” His voice trailed off.

“It’s okay,” she said, even though it wasn’t. How different might her life be if David Taylor, her biggest supporter and cheerleader when it came to her following her own path, hadn’t collapsed in his workshop?

Nate’s gaze skimmed over her, warm and sympathetic. Most people broke eye contact when faced with another’s grief, but not him. He studied each line of her face as though through his camera lens. Very unsettling.

She ducked back under the hood and picked up her dropped socket wrench. “How’s Todd working out?”

Nate cleared his throat and leaned against the side of her station wagon. “He’s doing great. We’ve made a plan of attack, and tomorrow morning we’re ripping off the roof.”

“Progress.”

“Yeah, which is why I stopped by—Todd said you have a chainsaw I could hire instead of mucking around with getting one from town.”

Her fingers tightened around the socket wrench. “You need a chainsaw?”

“I’ve got to clear the road back before I get the new roofing iron and timber shipped up. It’s crazy overgrown.”

“And you’ve used a chainsaw before?”

“Nope, but I’ve used a skill-saw, so how hard can it be?”

That startled a laugh out of her, and she cut him a glance, drinking in the tee shirt taut against his chest but a little loose over his flat stomach, and his long legs crossed at the ankles, the only parts of him she could see. “Such a guy thing to say, usually right before someone hacks off a limb.”

“Ah.”

One hand disappeared from view followed by a raspy sound she identified as fingertips scratching stubble.

“Hadn’t thought of that.”

“No offence, but you don’t look like the chain-sawing type.”

“Not much call for chainsaw skills in my usual working day. My Auckland apartment only has a balcony, so the last time I even used a lawn-mower was as a teenager, when I helped pay my way through university by doing yard work.”

With the last radiator bolt tightened, Lauren backed out from under the hood. “Mac’s place must feel strange to you.”

He flashed a crooked grin. “So much solitude and fresh air, it’s kind of spooky when you’re used to the city or being around crowds of people living in third-world conditions.”

“It does take some getting used to.”

“But you enjoy it?” Pushing away from her station wagon, he shoved his hands into his pockets and wandered over.

“It’s home.” As soon as he moved into her little hemisphere of safe space, her skin started to prickle, so she grabbed the first rubber radiator hose off the bench. This was an opening, a chance to put her change-Nate’s-mind-by-being-nice plan into action. “Listen, since you were kind enough to help with the whole stuck car thing, I’ll chainsaw for you a couple of mornings to clear the road.”

“You know how to chainsaw?”

She shot a glance at his incredulous tone, found him shaking his head, fists on his hips. “Don’t look so stunned—you’ve already witnessed how I can outdrive you in your own car.”