Keeping His Promise: A When It Happens Novella, Book 2 (4 page)

He stopped on the sidewalk, pulling in a deep breath of the sea-scented air, and heard the door open and close behind him as Natalie joined him.

“So what now?” she asked. The words were quiet, but the hesitation in them came through loud and clear.

“I’m hungry. So even though you still think I’m scum, I say you give in gracefully and agree to go out to dinner with me.”

He turned his head just in time to catch her startled look.

“I’m not expecting sex, Natalie. I just want to go somewhere and eat. That’s all.”

“But wouldn’t it be kind of tacky to go somewhere with you when I’m meant to be on a date with Matt?”

“Are you kidding me? Matt the Dickhead doesn’t deserve to be in the same room with you, much less sitting across from you at a table.”

“And you do?”

He didn’t respond at first. Just stood there while the setting sun turned the sky a brilliant shade of purple out over the sea behind her, and studied her face, trying to figure out what he was doing. Why he was still trying to keep her with him, instead of getting the hell away from her as fast as he could. “Just dinner, Nat. It won’t kill you, will it?”

He nearly groaned when she caught that full lower lip in her straight teeth, then let it go with a sigh. “It might.”

“Yeah, well, I happen to believe that you’re tough as nails,” he said dryly. “You’ll survive.”

She didn’t argue. She just rolled her eyes again and walked beside him back to the truck. He opened her door, and as she climbed up into the seat, he couldn’t help the grin that tugged at the corner of his mouth. God only knew it should have been a grimace, given all the shit she kept giving him, but it wasn’t. He couldn’t even get rid of the damn thing as he made his way around the front to the driver-side door and got back behind the wheel.

Yeah, she was ornery and guarded and one hell of a smart ass, but there was something about this woman that had taken hold of him. He couldn’t seem to shake it, no matter how belligerent she got. So for the rest of the night, Sean decided he wasn’t even going to try.

Instead, he was going to dig in and keep fighting to get past her defenses. He didn’t have any other choice, because he
needed
to know the woman who was hiding back there.

He’d had easy and shallow, and look where it’d gotten him. Natalie Richards wasn’t either of those things, and despite her prickly attitude, he couldn’t stop thinking about her.

And, yeah, she was one hell of a challenge—but that wasn’t what had him so fascinated.

No…it was the idea of being the one who got to see the
real
her, without all that fucking armor and attitude. Not because he wanted to be the asshole that conquered her, but because—and this was probably going to cost him his fucking man-card to admit—but the glimpses he’d seen of the real Natalie Richards had completely captivated him. The one who snickered at dirty jokes and hugged people who needed it, just trying to put a smile on their face. The one who sang out of tune when cutting up with her best friend, and let behemoth-sized dogs cuddle up on her lap without giving a crap about her clothes and if they were getting ruined.

He
needed
to know that woman. Needed to somehow find a way to get her into his life, because every instinct he possessed told him she was worth it.

Was it scary? Fuck, yeah. After what he’d been through with Dani, putting himself out there emotionally with any woman was enough to make his blood run cold—especially one who was so unwilling to give him a shot. But despite all of that, cold was the last thing he felt when it came to the fiery redhead. She’d gotten under his skin, and as strange as it sounded, Sean didn’t want to get her out.

In fact, all he really wanted was to get her
under
him. Then he planned on showing her, in sweaty, explicit, heart pounding detail, just why they were going to be so good for each other.

She might not know it yet, but his family’s motto had always been:
If it matters, do whatever it takes
.

And that’s exactly what he planned to do.

A
s the hostess
showed them to a small table by the front wall of glass that overlooked the turbulent ocean, Natalie was relieved that Sean hadn’t taken her to someplace like Manolo’s, where they’d be surrounded by players making plays. She didn’t think her stomach could take it.

Instead, he’d taken her to a quaint, little privately owned bistro—not far from his sister’s boutique—that was famous for its seafood and romantic atmosphere. She’d always wanted to eat there, but had never had a chance to. Now, thanks to Sean, she did.

And best of all, no one in the restaurant seemed to recognize the sexy stud walking beside her, his hand at her lower back again, which meant he hadn’t been frequenting the place with his endless stream of hook ups. It shouldn’t have mattered to her so much, since they were only sharing a meal together—but it did.

It’s just dinner
, she reminded herself, as they took their seats.
Not the start of a relationship. So chill!

Considering all the shit she’d spewed at him, it should have felt awkward to sit down across from him at the candlelit table, while something sultry and soft played in the background. But when he simply started looking over his menu, acting for all the world like a guy who wanted a good meal and nothing more, Natalie finally started to relax.

We’re just two people breaking bread together. Just stay cool. Stay calm…

When their server came to the table, they ordered their drinks and some starters. She figured she’d probably sit there looking out the wall of glass, enjoying the breathtaking view of the approaching storm, and was surprised when Sean started a conversation, asking her the casual kinds of questions that enabled two strangers to get to know each other.

He asked her about her classes, and she explained that she was set to graduate with a degree in business in just under a year. With honors, no less, which she was proud as hell of, seeing as how she’d worked her way through school. His scotch and her glass of white wine were brought to the table, and after taking a delicious sip, she found herself asking him about his work, even though Sophie had already mentioned that he was a successful sportswriter.

Though she would never admit it, Natalie had even looked him up online and read more than a few of his articles, enjoying his voice, and glomming over the gorgeous photos that the press had taken of him with various high-profile athletes. She’d been stunned to learn that he played golf with the MVP of the last Super Bowl, and was involved in several charities.

But despite his success, he didn’t come across as arrogant or cocky as he answered her questions. Instead, she could tell just how passionate he was about what he did, and how lucky he felt for having the opportunity to do it.

Hmm. For a manwhore, he wasn’t at all what she’d expected. And, yeah, she might have started to feel just a “tad” bit guilty for expecting him to be as shallow as most of the playboys and two-timers she watched coasting in and out of Manolo’s every week.

Not that his lifestyle was something she could ever accept. For instance, it hadn’t escaped her notice that the phone in his pocket kept vibrating to signal a text message. He’d checked to see who was trying to reach him the first few times, then started to ignore them, and in his defense, he hadn’t texted them back in front of her, which would have been rude, seeing as how they were most likely from another woman…or
women
.

But, then, it wasn’t like he even needed a defense. He wasn’t in a relationship, and he sure as hell didn’t owe her anything. He was young and single and gorgeous, not to mention intelligent and fun to talk to, so she really couldn’t blame him for being such a successful bachelor as well.

It just sucked that he was so clearly
not
a settling down kind of guy, seeing as how she found him one of the most compelling, sexy, interesting men she’d ever met.

Somehow, by the time his steak and her seafood linguine were being set on the table, he’d gotten her to admit that her dream was to someday open a classy sports bar by the beach. One that catered more to women and couples, than men who were simply looking to get rowdy with the guys.

After wiping his mouth with his napkin, he said, “You know, I have some great contacts that I could put you in touch with when you’re ready.”

“Ready for what?” she asked, swirling another bite of pasta around her fork.

“To open your bar.”

She froze as she stared at him across the table, as stunned as she was embarrassed. “That…that’s really awesome of you, and nice, but I wasn’t…I wasn’t trying to suggest that you should—”

“Hey, I know that,” he said in a low voice, flashing her a disarming smile. “But I’d like to help.”

“Thanks. That’s…honestly, that’s super sweet of you. But this isn’t something that will happen anytime soon. I’m sure it’ll take me years.” And by that time, Sean Cartwright probably wouldn’t even remember her freaking name, much less his incredible offer.

Nodding his head in understanding of the nerves he could no doubt hear in her voice, he told her, “I know something like this can feel like it’ll take forever, but I’d put my money on you getting there a lot sooner than you’re expecting.”

“You would? Why?”

He finished off his scotch, and set the glass back down on the table, his dark gaze locking hard with hers in the soft light. “Because you’re the kind of woman who goes after what she wants and doesn’t take any bullshit from anyone.”

The corner of her mouth twitched with wry humor. “Um, thanks. I think.”

“It was a compliment.”

She looked down, surprised to find that she was still twirling that damn bite of pasta around her fork. Flushing, she lifted it to her mouth, and they finished off their meals without any further conversation. The server showed up only a moment later, clearing away their plates, and asking if they’d like to see the dessert menu. They both passed on dessert, but ordered coffee.

Stirring her spoon through the foam on her cappuccino, Natalie angled her head to the side, and finally said the words that had been burning on her tongue for most of the meal. “So now that I’ve bared my soul and told you my lofty plans for the future, I feel it’s only fair that I get to ask you something personal.”

He shot her a wary look, but sighed with resignation. “Go for it.”

“What’s the story?”

He slowly arched one of those dark brows. “The story?”

“With the women.”

“Shit,” he muttered under his breath, leaning back in his chair. He rubbed his hands over his face a few times, then dropped them to his thighs and returned her stare. “Is this a deal breaker?”

This time, she was the one who lifted her brows. “A deal breaker?”

“Yeah,” he muttered, jerking his chin at her. “One of those things you won’t be able to get past.”

“Get past for what?” she questioned with a hint of unease, wondering where he was going with this.

His response was husky, but blunt. “Seeing me again.”

She didn’t glare at him, but she didn’t exactly jump for joy either. “I don’t think that would be a good idea.”

“Then don’t think,” he shot back in a low rumble, those dark eyes burning with a heady combination of humor and hunger.

She wanted to frown, but found herself smirking at him instead. “If that were going to happen—me seeing you again—then, yes. This would be something I would need to understand.”

A grim kind of acceptance shadowed his gaze, but he nodded his agreement. “All right. But I’m warning you now, it isn’t pretty.”

“Somehow that doesn’t surprise me.”

He gave a gritty, frustrated laugh, then stabbed his fingers through his hair, the fact that he really didn’t want to have this discussion so clear it was all but carved into the deepening lines of his expression. But he didn’t backdown and tell her to hell with it. To go fuck herself and mind her own damn business. He just cleared his throat, looked her right in the eye, and said, “I was married. For almost nine years. It didn’t work out.”

“Did you get caught having an affair?”

Something raw flashed in his eyes, and she instantly wished that she could take back the impulsive words. “No. I didn’t have an affair,” he rasped, rubbing his jaw. “I was faithful to my wife from the very start of our relationship. But it turned out she couldn’t say the same.”

Shock had her feeling like the room had just tilted off its axis, her body straightening in her chair. “Wait. Are you… Are you saying that she cheated on you?”

His gaze slid toward the stunning view outside the glass, the tightness around his mouth making those lines at the side more pronounced. She felt like shit for putting them there, her stomach sinking as he said, “The first few years were pretty good, or at least they didn’t suck. She was high maintenance, but I thought I loved her.” With a wry twist of his lips, he added, “And I did, or at least I loved who I thought she was. Turned out I didn’t really know her at all.”

His name was little more than a murmur on her lips.
“Sean.”

Turning his head, he looked right at her. “She married me because she thought I was going to be her ticket to a hotshot lifestyle.”

“But that… What the hell? I mean, that’s incredibly shallow, but what more did she want? You
are
successful.”

He shook his head and snorted. “Not enough for Dani. She wanted the big leagues. Penthouse apartments in New York and rubbing elbows with the richest of the rich. But that’s not my style, and it wasn’t what I ever hoped for. When she finally realized I was happy in San Francisco and wasn’t going to kiss a bunch of corporate ass to make it into television, she started making her plays for bigger fish.”

“She sounds like a completely idiotic bitch.”

He laughed without humor, the corner of his mouth kicking up in another grim smile. “I sure as hell don’t miss her.”

Fiddling with the linen napkin that she’d set on the table, she asked, “And how does this explain the women? Are you…is it all just making up for the years you were with her?”

He blew out a frustrated breath, and gave another brief shake of his head. “I can see how you would think that. But it’s…it isn’t like that.”

“It isn’t?” she asked, wanting—
needing
—him to explain.

Rubbing his hand roughly over his mouth, he muttered, “Shit, this is actually kind of embarrassing.”

Suddenly, she had to bite her lip to hold back her smile, finding him quite endearing at that moment.

“After the divorce, I made some promises to my family. Well, about nine months after it.” He shoved those long fingers back through his hair, then rested his hands on the edge of the table, thumb tapping a restless pattern as he stared out at the view again for a moment, watching the growing torment of the sea. Then he brought that dark, hooded gaze back to hers.

“I was in a bad place. Fucked up in the head, and feeling like an idiot, because I hadn’t seen any of the shit with Dani coming. My ego was in shreds, and I was bitter as fuck for turning into another embarrassing screwed-over-shmuck. So my family, they finally had enough. They kicked my ass into shape, told me to stop acting like an adolescent, and made me promise that I would start dating again.”

“That makes sense,” she murmured, still not sure how it worked into the endless stream of women she’d seen him with. Dating was one thing, but he’d become the master of the casual hook up.

As if reading her thoughts, he said, “What you don’t know is that they’re fucking militant about it. I had to practically sign in blood that I would keep giving women a shot, no matter how many it took, until I found one I was willing to date on a more permanent basis.”

“Ah. I’m starting to get the picture.” He’d basically been given a free pass by his family to screw his way through a bevy of beautiful babes. What kind of guy wasn’t going to grab hold of that with both hands and go full throttle? And why the hell would he give it up? The thought made her flinch, and she could have sworn she saw a fresh, sharper burst of frustration flash in his eyes.

Picking up his cup, he took a drink of his coffee, his jaw working as he set it down and looked back out the window. Rough voice a bit tighter than before, he went on. “Yeah, so, it turns out that my mom and Peyton have big mouths, and it wasn’t long before the rest of the family heard about their plan. My brother, Paul, got in on the action, and Jonah too.”

“Who’s Jonah?”

He gave her a rueful look. “My cousin and the jackass who keeps texting me.”

“Oh.” She smirked as she reached for her cappuccino. “I figured it was one of your harem making your phone vibrate like a sex toy.”

His blue eyes narrowed, the look in them so raw it sent her gaze skittering back to the window. But she could still hear the anger and frustration in his low words as he said, “I don’t have a goddamn harem, Natalie. And I’m not a playboy, no matter how badly you keep trying to make me out to be. I’ve been taking these women to the same damn restaurant every weekend because it keeps it simple—in perspective. Because I’m not out there playing the fucking field—I’m just trying to keep my family from worrying about me!”

He paused, and she couldn’t stop her head from turning back to him, their gazes locking with a breathtaking jolt. He worked his jaw a few times, then grated, “And the honest fucking truth of the situation is that despite how many women you’ve seen me take to dinner, I’ve only slept with two since my divorce. And yes, before you ask, I was still faithful to my wife, even after I found out she’d been taking it up the ass by one of the defensive linemen for the 49ers.”

Oh…shit
. Knowing she’d screwed up and finally taken her bitch routine a step too far, she whispered, “I’m sorry, Sean. For…all…um, yeah. It’s, uh, really not any of my business. We should probably just go.”

“Like hell do you get to run.” His chest rose sharply as he pulled in a deep breath. “You pushed the point, Natalie, so you can give me the courtesy of listening to my explanation.”

She swallowed and gave him a jerky nod. “Fair enough.”

He pulled one of those big hands down the lower half of his face, nostrils flaring as he exhaled, his storm-dark eyes pinning her in place, daring her to move. His jaw worked for a moment, and then he spoke in a low, grit-edged voice. “That was Paul’s angle, when he finally got in on the action. The jackass wouldn’t let up until he got me to promise that while I was fulfilling my promise to my mom and Peyton, I would stop being so damn picky, get my dick out, and actually fuck a few of the women I was taking out.” His dark gaze drilled into hers. “So I did. Two of them in the first month, and that was five months ago, just after I moved down here, when I was still looking for a place to buy.