Southern Comfort (14 page)

She turned to him and held her hand out palm up. “Keys, please.”

He fished out the keys and handed them to her, biding his time until she got the door open. It seemed that Natalie didn’t want to tell him why they were there, but he figured he’d find out soon enough.

She stepped into the apartment and flipped on the light, setting her purse down in the chair by the door. He would like to have thought the apartment was a complete reflection of her personality, but on closer inspection he realized that it was a hybrid of her and Aubie. Pristine white sofa paired with a worn in black gamer’s chair. High def, seventy-two inch television flat screen, paired with every game console known to man. Original artwork hanging behind the sofa, polished wood floors, and one lone glass sitting on the coffee table without a coaster.

She made a noise of disgust, then crossed the room to pluck the glass from the coffee table. Shaking her head, she walked it out of the room—he presumed to the kitchen—and returned seconds later.

“Are you going to tell me why we’re here?” Flashes of the two of them together, naked, blazed through his mind. It was very tempting. They were here, they were alone, and they had the chemistry necessary for such, ahem, activities. But he had a feeling she had something else on her mind.

She plopped her hands on her hips and leveled her gaze on him. “The other day you asked me when was the last time I had watched a movie. Well, we’re going to watch a movie.”

“O-kay,” he said, “if that’s what you want to do.” Personally, he could think of a lot of other things to do that didn’t involve movies, but he pushed those thoughts away. She fancied that she was going to marry the stuffed shirt and really it was no concern of his. He would be leaving in just a week. What difference did it make to him if she married somebody completely wrong for her?

“But,” he continued, “no romantic comedies, no tearjerkers, and no animated.”

“What do you have against animated movies?”

Newland shook his head. “Nothing, really. But the last thing I want to do is sit here and watch
My Little Pony
.”

“I’ll have you know, I don’t like
My Little Pony
.” She sniffed and walked over to the shelves framing the wall on either side of the television. A vast array of items were placed there. Polished rocks, small figurines, mixed in with a few books and a ton of movies and games.

She pointed to a shelf at eye level to her. “This is mine.”

“Are you asking for help choosing a movie?” Little Miss I Organize Everything for Everybody was going to give up the decision?

“I’m sure you don’t want to watch the
Saw
series.”

Newland made a face. “Horror’s not really my thing.” He took a step closer, his gaze traveling over the titles she had indicated as her own. There were some great movies there—a few classics and a few that would be one day. But one name kept appearing over and over. “Do you own everything Brad Pitt is in?”

If he wasn’t mistaken a blush rose into her cheeks, but that didn’t seem possible. “Maybe,” she hedged.

“We could watch one of his I guess.” He reached toward
The Curious Case of Benjamin Button
, but she shook her head.

“I don’t watch that one.”

Newland blinked a couple of times, trying to get his thoughts in order. “You own it, but you don’t watch it?”

Natalie nodded. “That’s right.”

Damn, sometimes talking to her was like trying to pull teeth. “Why do you have it but don’t watch it?”

“I suppose it’s safe to say that he’s my favorite actor.”

Newland nodded encouragingly.

“But I don’t like to watch the ones where he dies. He dies in that one.”

Newland looked back to the title under his fingertips, trying to figure out why it mattered to her. He shook his head.

“Pick another title,” she said.

He sorted through them, thinking back on the ones he had seen, the ones where Brad Pitt’s character had died, but Natalie seemed to take the decision from his hands.

“This one,” she said, handing him
Legends of the Fall
.

“Doesn’t he die in this?” Newland asked.

Natalie shook her head. “Trust me. I know.” She held the movie out to him.

“What do you want me to do with this?”

“You’ll have to figure all this out,” she said waving a hand toward the media set up. “This is Aubie’s domain.”

“So you own all these movies, but you never watch them. I told you.”

“Just play the movie.” She walked over to the sofa, then perched on the edge.

He eyed her carefully. “Don’t you want to change into something more comfortable?”

“I am perfectly comfortable, thank you.”

She looked like she was going to a board meeting. He might not be staying for another week, but he was determined that by the time he left she would not be a stuffed shirt to match that of her almost fiancé.

It took four and a half minutes, but he managed to get the movie in and playing without any real effort.

He settled onto the couch next to her, laying his arm across the back and crossing one ankle over his knee. Natalie sat on the edge of the couch, perched there like a bird about to take flight. Why was she so nervous in her own home?

“You don’t have to be afraid of me,” he said as the opening sequence played. The Native American narrator told the story of Captain Ludlow and how he came to be in Montana.

“Whatever gave you that idea?” she scoffed.

He waved a hand toward her. “No reason.”

She seemed to realize the distance she had placed between them, and eased back onto the cushions. Her shoulders finally touched the sofa pillows, but he could tell she held herself ramrod straight as the young Tristan went seeking the bear.

Newland ran his hand closer toward her, entwining his fingers in the hair at the nape of her neck. As usual it was pulled back into a librarian bun.

She jumped as if she’d been stuck with a cattle prod.

“Relax,” he urged in a sweet whisper. “It’s a date; you’re supposed to be enjoying yourself.”

“Are you saying that I don’t know how to enjoy myself on a date?” She half turned toward him, movie forgotten.

Newland sighed. “I didn’t say that. I said relax. You’re supposed to be having a good time.”

She nodded sternly. “Oh, I am.” The words sounded almost like a threat.

“You are not. You’re as stiff as a board, tied up in knots, acting like I’m going to jump on you any second.”

Natalie was on her feet in an instant. “Maybe this was a bad idea.”

He stood as well waiting for her to make the next move.

“You want to tell me what’s wrong?” he asked.

She shook her head. “Maybe we should go back to my aunt’s house.”

“If that’s what you want to do. But I have a feeling it’s not.”

She scoffed again. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

She moved around the coffee table and across the expanse of wood floor to stand by the front door. “Can you turn off the TV and stuff?” She waved an expressive hand toward the media center.

“Of course,” he said, not mentioning the fact that her fingers trembled as they hung in the air.

He moved behind her, stopping at the television cabinet to turn everything off. He ejected the movie, put it back in its case, and set everything to rights. Then he walked over to where she waited.

“Are you sure this is what you want?” he asked.

Natalie nodded, but he had a feeling she couldn’t find the words.

“What if I think you’re lying to me again?”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” She moved to open the door but stopped, her hand on the knob. Then she whirled around, both hands clutching the knob, which was now behind her back.

“What’s the matter?”

She shook her head, but made no move to get out from in front of the door.

“Natalie?”

She stared at him for a moment, her eyes conflicted and stormy. She dragged her bottom lip through her teeth, the action so sexy he almost groaned out loud.

What was wrong with her? He had a feeling he would find out, in her time. How long they stood there just looking at one another Newland couldn’t say. What could have been seconds or maybe two lifetimes passed, then she pushed herself off the door, her eyes never leaving his. Each step was slow and sexy, one foot in front of the other until she was standing just inches away.

He inhaled sharply, getting a big gulp of pure Natalie. That alluring smell that belonged just to her. That odd blend of roses, baby powder, and dry-cleaning fluid.

Another lifetime passed as she stood there in front of him, trembling. Or was she merely vibrating with the same need as him? It was crazy, this attraction he had for this uptight southerner. But it was there all the same. She was always in control, always so perfect, that he wanted to muss her hair and smear her lipstick and … He wondered what she looked like with mascara smudged under her eyes and chipped fingernail polish.

He never thought something as mundane as messy hair was particularly erotic, but somehow with Little Miss Perfect Natalie Coleman, it was.

He wanted to reach out and haul her toward him and find out just how great her lipstick looked smeared.

Had it only been last night that she had laid down her ultimatum and her ground rules on how they were to behave? The thought was mind-boggling.

No, he wasn’t going to kiss her. He might not think she belonged with a fuddy-duddy like Gerald Davenport, but that didn’t give him the right to go messing around with her emotions and desires. So he stood there, just breathing in her scent, humming with the need to pull her into his arms and kiss her like there was no tomorrow.

Even eye contact with her was almost too much. He tore his gaze from hers casting a downward glance. Like that was any better. It fell immediately to her breasts rising and falling with her rapid breathing. But even more so his gaze centered on the small stain on her otherwise perfect dress. It had to be from her earlier chocolate ice cream binge. A stain on her dress should not be so … irresistible.

This time his groan was audible.

He raised his gaze to hers. The light in her eyes relayed that she knew his every thought. Was he that transparent? Could she see how badly he wanted her? Did she even understand how ridiculous it all was?

“Natalie,” he breathed, her name somewhere between a plea and a prayer.

“Newland,” she said in return and took one more step. Her body brushed against his, and he felt as if he’d been touched with wild fire. He took a step backwards out of sheer survival. How could he manage if she burned them up?

But for every step he took backwards, she took one forward until he felt the couch behind him. It cut him off at the knees, and he sat down hard. With Natalie on top.

“What are you doing?”

Natalie sighed as she leaned in and pressed her lips to Newland’s. “I don’t know, but I think I’m kissing you.”

Somehow they had sprawled across the sofa, Newland underneath her. Every curve she had was molded to his hard planes. It was exquisite. Never before in her life had she felt like this. So out of control, so in control, so scared, so confident. She loved it, and she hated it all in the same moment. But more than anything, she couldn’t resist it. She wanted to go on kissing him and kissing him. Until the dawn came. Or eternity. Whichever.

She mumbled her protest as he slid his fingers into her hair on either side of her face and pulled her lips away from his. “What about the ground rules? You know, no kissing.”

“Screw the ground rules.” This was what she had been waiting for since she’d first laid eyes on him. Even that first time she saw him she knew. He was the one who would make her lose control. And she relished it as much as she despised it.

But what harm is there?
the voice inside her whispered. It wasn’t like he was staying forever. Another week and he would be gone. Out of her life forever, taking with it the only chance she had at letting go.

She resisted his hold, doing her best to kiss him once again.

He laughed and braced his elbows, effectively holding her away from him. “You mean that?” he asked.

Did he have to ask? Could he not tell?
“Yep.”

That was all it took. She yelped as she found their positions reversed. One minute she was on top of Newland and the next minute she was underneath.

His weight was wonderful, exquisite and warm as he took over their embrace.

So accustomed to being in charge and running everything, Natalie found this switch in positions to be refreshing. She closed her eyes and allowed him his way, following his lead instead of battling for control.

Except for one thing. She bucked against him, urging him on. With Newland she felt renewed, wild, and able to abandon the façade she donned every day.

He moved one hand between them to press her hips into the sofa. And she nearly cried out, bereft when he lifted his mouth from hers.

“Slow down,” he said, his voice breathless. “If we don’t take this easy, I’m not sure I’ll be able to stop.”

“That was sort of the idea, yes.” She snagged his gaze with her own. His brown eyes were nearly black with passion. And she loved that she had done that to him. Those high cheekbones held a tinge of pink, and he was breathing as heavily as she.

“You don’t mean that.” His voice rose on the end making it almost a question, but not quite.

“Yes, I do.” She lifted one knee, effectively dropping him between her thighs. Her dress had ridden up. And the rough fabric of his jeans was a thrill all of its own.

“Natalie.”

“Newland,” she mocked his tone.

“You can’t—” he started, but she effectively cut him off placing one finger over his lips.

“Yes. I can.”

“What about—”

She shook her head. “For a guy who is about to get lucky, you sure do protest a lot.”

“I just don’t think—”

“Then don’t. What’s the harm in just feeling?”

He closed his eyes, and she could tell he was tottering there. “I’m not going to beg.”

Once again he pinned her with that dark, exotic gaze. “But if you did … ” His expression was pained, and she knew she had taken him to the edge of his limit.