Year of Living Blonde (Sweet Life in Seattle, Book 1) (43 page)

“Seriously?”

“I’m still feeling shy. I’m sorry.”

He studies her. It’s hard to believe she’d still feel this way, especially after taking a shower together. “Why are you so shy, exactly?”

Natalie bites her lip, and looks to the side. “In my marriage—Peter, my ex—he didn’t think I was very attractive.”

Anthony frowns. And then gets angry. Jesus, what kind of dickhead was she married to?

“You know that isn’t true though, right?”

She sighs. “I guess, but it’s hard to accept. I still feel like hiding.”

He sits up. “Natalie, you are hot. Seriously. God, I was ready to steal your panties, just so I can jerk off some more thinking about you.”

Natalie is smiling at him. “That’s so nice.”

Anthony laughs. “I’m not doing it to be nice, trust me!”

“If it’s any consolation, you’re helping a lot. I just need to take it slow.”

“All right,” he says, getting up. “I’ll wait in the hall, but we are definitely going to work on this.”

“Thanks, I’m sorry.”

Anthony goes over to her. “Don’t apologize.” He puts his hands on her cheeks, holding her for a soft kiss. “I don’t want you to feel bad about yourself when you’re with me—ever.”

“Okay,” she whispers.

He grabs his phone and goes to wait out in the hallway.

At first Anthony leans against the doorframe, answering emails, but after noticing some of the photos on the wall, decides to check them out instead.

They’re mostly family shots with plenty of Chloe as a baby and small child. He notices the same blond guy in many of them and figures it must be Peter.

So this is what that
testa di cazzo
looks like.

Near the end of the hall there’s a photo of Natalie when she was much younger. She has long brown hair and is wearing some kind of peasant dress. Standing next to her is a guy who looks kind of like George Clooney, along with a young Lindsay.

And this must be the womanizing father.

He keeps browsing and stops when he comes to a more recent photo showing Natalie the way she looked when he first met her.

The photo is taken in the back kitchen of La Dolce Vita. She’s noticeably more overweight than now, but he’s still struck by how pretty she is. There’s a mischievous grin on her face that makes him smile. He can’t believe he didn’t take more notice of her initially. Studying the photo of Natalie, it’s hard to imagine how any man could fall out of love with her.

That’s a strange thought.

The door opens and Natalie steps out into the hall wearing jeans and a purple T-shirt.

She comes over to where he’s standing and sees the picture he’s been studying. “That was taken on my birthday. It’s kind of a running joke that I’m so picky I always make my own cake every year.”

“Yeah? I hope you’ll make my birthday cake this year. There has to be some fringe benefit to dating a pastry chef.”

She laughs. “Of course I’ll make your cake. When is your birthday?”

“Not until June, but it’s one of those milestone birthdays.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m turning thirty.”

“What
?
” Natalie stares at him with alarm. “You’re only
twenty-nine?
”

He’s startled by her strong reaction. “Yeah, how old are you?”

She doesn’t answer him though, just keeps gawking. “My God, you’re younger than Lindsay! I thought you were in your thirties!”

“Why would you think that?”

“Because you
told
me! You told me Serena was born when you were in your senior year at UCLA.”

“That’s true. She was born right before I got my undergraduate degree.”

“So?”

Anthony is trying to figure out her reasoning and then finally he gets it. “I think I understand your confusion. I was nineteen during my senior year at UCLA. I started college when I was sixteen.”

Natalie blinks and then shakes her head. “Why?”

He shrugs. “Because that’s how it worked out. I tested and got in early.”

“No,” she says, annoyed. “Why didn’t you tell me you were so much younger than me?”

“I don’t know. I’ve dated older women before. Besides,” he says, getting annoyed himself, “you can’t be that much older than I am.”

She doesn’t say anything.

“How old are you exactly?” Not that he really cares. He’s mostly curious to see why she’s stressing so bad.

Natalie sighs. “I’m thirty-five. I’ll be thirty-six in May.”

“See,” he says. “Only six years.”

She looks at him like he’s a moron. “
Six years
is a lot.”

Anthony rolls his eyes. “Whatever. Let’s go. You can stress while we’re getting caffeine.”

ON THE WAY
to get coffee, they stop at the drugstore for condoms. Except Natalie doesn’t want to go inside. She’s too embarrassed. “I’ll guard your motorcycle. You won’t even have to pay me. Well,” she reconsiders, “maybe only ten bucks.”

“Very funny. This neighborhood looks perfectly safe. Come on,” he takes her hand, “I’m not letting you wiggle your way out of this. It’ll be good for you to face down some of these fears.”

Once they’re standing in front of the condom section, Anthony puts on a show, trying to decide which ones to buy.

“Should we get the ultra-smooth, or how about the contoured ones for the
ladies?
” Anthony deepens his voice on the word ladies. “Fire pack, maybe? That sounds kind of dangerous. I’m worried they might sting. What do you think, Miss Natalie?”

Natalie is peeking around the corner, praying to God no one she knows sees her. “Let’s just grab some jumbos and go!”

Anthony chuckles and then finally reaches for a box without even looking at it. She suspects it’s the same brand he’s used for years. “You need to get over your embarrassment. So we’re having sex, who cares? It’s nobody’s business but ours.”

They head down one more aisle, where Anthony picks up a razor and shaving cream. He holds his hand up. “I know what you’re going to say, but at some point, I will
need
to shave. Trust me on this.”

Eventually, they make their way to the front.

The cashier is a young woman who almost swallows her tongue when she gets a look at Anthony and then smiles when she sees what he’s buying. She looks at Natalie too, but in a more confused—she’s with
him?
—kind of way, or at least that’s how Natalie interprets it.

“Thank God, that’s finally over,” Natalie says once they’re outside again. Anthony tucks the bag in a small storage compartment on the back of his bike.

They climb aboard and Natalie is already looking forward to the ride.
Maybe I should buy a motorcycle.
She imagines herself as one of those badass motorcycle mamas you see cruising around town.
I could even get a tattoo.
She already feels tough wearing the aviators Anthony bought her.

The sky is gray overhead with the occasional sunbreak as they ride and there’s the scent of diesel and wet pavement in the air.

The Ducati is purring loudly as they pull up to a Starbucks. People are sitting at tables out front, a few of them turning to watch as Anthony parks his bike. The notion of going inside Starbucks both repels and fascinates Natalie.

“It feels like I’m going behind enemy lines,” she says as they walk up to the store.

Anthony puts his sunglasses on top of his head and holds the door open for her. “It’s good to occasionally see what the enemy is up to.”

The place is crowded. Lots of people talking and waiting for drink orders.

Natalie glances around with interest, surprised at the crowd
. Hmm, maybe we should keep La Dolce Vita open on the weekends.

Anthony orders his usual espresso breve and gets Natalie a nonfat latte. She doesn’t want any food yet, but he gets himself a chocolate chip cookie.

They stand close to each other as they wait for their coffee. Anthony holds her hand. At one point, he even bends down to kiss her, lingering longer than he should. Natalie’s stomach goes quivery as she inhales his musky scent. He’s like a drug she can’t get enough of.

A small table near the window opens and they grab it, sitting with their knees, legs, and arms touching. In truth, she’d sit in his lap if she could and something tells her Anthony wouldn’t object.

“And what’s this I see?” Natalie points to his bag with disapproval. “You’re already cheating on my cookies? That was fast.”

He smirks. “Of course not. I’m only observing the enemy, like you are.”

Anthony pulls the cookie out and takes a bite. She can’t help watching his reaction as he eats it. “How does it taste?”

“Terrible. Nothing compares to
your
cookies, Miss Natalie.”

“Hmph. That better be the truth.”

“Do you want some?”

Natalie accepts a small piece and has to admit it’s not bad, but it’s not as good as hers, either. She glances around at some of the people. There’s quite a mixed crowd of casual and dressed up. As usual, women are staring at Anthony. Some of them discreetly, but others are not so discreet, though she has to say he ignores them all and focuses solely on her.

“So, how many lovers have you had?” she asks curiously.

Anthony nearly chokes on his coffee. He puts the cup down. “You want to discuss this
now?
”

“Nobody can hear us.” Which is true. The place is busy and they’re sitting close together, talking quietly.

Anthony takes a deep breath and lets it out. “To be honest, that’s probably not a number you want to know.”

“Is it that high?”

“When I was younger I got a lot of female attention.”

Natalie can’t stop her snort of laughter. “When you were younger? Are you blind, Anthony? You still get a lot of female attention.”

“I know, but it’s different now. My perception has changed.”

“Why is that?”

He shrugs. “I was a young horny guy back then and women were constantly approaching me, so it was hard to resist.”

“And now what? You’re not horny anymore?”

He gives a low chuckle. “I’m definitely still horny, but like I said, it’s different. All that attention has become noise, like static. I’m not interested in bedding a bunch of women I barely know.”

“So you’re like a serial monogamist now?”

Anthony glances around. He grins a little and seems embarrassed that she’s called his number. “Something like that.”

“Answer me this. Are you still in the double digits?”

“Yes.”

“Barely, though, I’ll bet.”

He takes a sip of his coffee. “Hey, I’m just an innocent boy here. You’re the cougar lady trying to sink her sharp claws into me.”

“Don’t say that!” Natalie laughs despite herself. She’s been trying not to think about their age difference.

“Are you still stressing about that?”

She toys with her coffee cup. “Of course. Six years is a bigger age difference than I thought.”

“What if it were reversed? And I was six years older than you—would it matter then?”

“No.” She thinks about Peter and Lena. They don’t seem to care. In fact, Lena is older than Peter by more than six years. “I’ve just never seen myself as the cougar type.”

“Come on, Natalie. Those labels are nonsense. I hope you realize that.” He takes her hand and entwines their fingers.

“Yeah, I know.”

They’re gazing at each other. She can’t pull her eyes away, but at least it seems to be the same for him, too. He’s so good looking it’s ridiculous. But as she gets to know him she’s finding she likes his personality even more than his looks.

“So how did the phone call with your sister go earlier?” he asks. “Did you tell her you invited the evil landlord into your bed?”

“No, not yet.”

He takes a drink from his coffee, watching her.

“I told her I was spending the day vacuuming the house and cleaning the bathrooms.”

His brows draw together. “Why?”

“Because she wanted to come home and it was the only thing that would keep her away.”

“So you didn’t tell her we’re together at all?” It’s clear Anthony doesn’t like this. He sounds annoyed and pulls his hand away.

“I’ll tell her eventually. And Blair, too, but it’s going to be weird. Everybody is really angry about what you did.”

Anthony releases a frustrated breath and looks out the window. “And what about you?” He meets her eyes. “Are you going to get past this?”