Year of Living Blonde (Sweet Life in Seattle, Book 1) (46 page)

At La Dolce Vita the next morning, Natalie is stunned when she sees Anthony coming through the front door as she’s putting fresh croissants in the pastry case. Instantly, there’s a zing of pleasure, but then she glances around, hoping no one else sees him.

She intercepts him before he gets in line to order coffee. At least it’s crowded with the usual morning rush.

“What are you doing here?”

Anthony smiles and Natalie can’t resist that gorgeous grin. He’s wearing a blue
Star Wars
T-shirt and jeans and she swears he gets hotter every time she sees him. A fresh wave of desire rushes through her and she wishes she could pull him into a corner and jump him.

God, I’m insatiable.

“I had to stop next door for something and I thought I’d come see you.”

He bends his head to kiss her. She kisses back, but somewhat hesitantly.

“What’s wrong?” He gives her a wicked grin. “I thought you’d be happy to see me.”

“I am.”

His eyes wander down her body. “Because I’m happy to see you. I can’t wait to see more of you. Are you staying over this Saturday?”

Anthony’s been asking her to stay over all week, but she wasn’t sure if she could.

“I think so.” It turns out Chloe was invited to a friend’s slumber party on Saturday and Lindsay said she’d be home anyway.

“Yeah? Because I have a big screen television in my bedroom, and you’re going to love it.”

“I am?” Natalie tries to figure out where he’s going with this. “We’re going to watch something?”

His eyebrows wiggle up and down.

Natalie’s not sure if she’s quite up for this adventure. She laughs nervously. “What exactly do you want to watch?”

“
Star Wars.
”

“Oh, of course!” Natalie feels a rush of relief. “I knew that.” Oddly, there’s a twinge of disappointment.

He looks at her from the corner of his eye. “What did you think I was talking about?”

“Nothing.”

A slow grin pulls at his mouth. “Miss Natalie, you have a dirty mind.”

“No, I don’t. Of course not!” Her face grows warm.

Anthony chuckles and seems to be enjoying how flustered she’s become. He reaches out and tucks a stray hair behind her ear. Lowers his voice. “We can watch some dirty movies if you want.”

“No! I didn’t say I wanted to do that.”

He meets her eyes, but doesn’t say anything more.

Natalie watches him, feeling both embarrassed and titillated, but then something occurs to her. “Wait a minute, did you just say you’re here because you had to stop next door? What were you doing there?”

He shrugs. “Paperwork.”

Natalie’s eye flicker to the brick wall between their bakery and the new clothing store. Resentment sinks its teeth into her. And she can’t help it—her temper flares. She lets out a deep breath as she tries to rein it in.

Unfortunately Anthony notices it, too. “Look, I can’t keep apologizing forever.”

But his attitude only fans the flames. “You could at least seem more apologetic.”

“Why? This is business for me, not personal.”

Natalie rolls her eyes. “Listen to yourself. Is this an Italian thing? You sound like you’re in the Mafia.”

Anthony bristles. “I hate that stereotype. So you can drop it right now.”

“It’s hard not to take getting stabbed in the back personally.” She cringes at the sharp tone in her voice, but he can’t expect her to forget all this so quickly.

“I didn’t stab you in the back. That’s ridiculous. Is that what you really think?”

Natalie doesn’t have time to respond because Blair has suddenly come over to them.

“Someone in the kitchen told me you were out here,” she says to Anthony, “but I had to see it with my own eyes. You’ve got some nerve showing up.”

Anthony considers Blair. “Maybe you’ve forgotten, but I do own this building. And besides, I’m here to see Natalie.”

Blair shakes her head and laughs. “You can forget it, pal. Natalie isn’t interested in you anymore. And she’s right. You did stab us in the back.”

“Seriously?” His eyes travel from Blair to Natalie. “You still haven’t told her yet?”

“Told me what?” Blair asks.

“I haven’t had a chance.” There’s a sinking feeling in Natalie’s gut. What a mess. She should have told Blair days ago.

Blair is staring at her, so Natalie braces herself and finally admits the truth. “Anthony and I have started . . . dating.”

“
What?
” Blair’s hazel eyes flash with anger. “You’re still going out with him after what he did?”

“It just . . . happened.”

Blair glares at her and Natalie can see she’s not only angry, but hurt, too. “Don’t you have any self-respect? He totally screwed us over!”

Natalie winces.

“I did not screw you two over,” Anthony says, obviously angry. “I saved you a ton of misery. The fact is you should both be grateful to me.”

“Grateful!” Blair and Natalie both say at the same time.

“Yes.” Anthony nods. “Grateful. If I’d leased you that space, it would have put your bakery out of business.”

“You’re delusional,” Blair tells him, and then turns to Natalie. “I don’t even know what to say to you. I’m going back to work.”

After she leaves, Anthony’s dark eyes glare at Natalie. “I thought you said you told her.”

“I told Lindsay, but I haven’t had a chance to talk to Blair yet.”

“I see.” His jaw is tight.

“So I’m the bad guy in all this now? That’s rich, coming from you.”

“I have to go. I have class in a short while.” He’s shaking his head. “And besides, I can’t listen to this shit anymore.”

Natalie doesn’t try to stop him. Once he’s gone, she lets out a shaky breath. And then she goes to find Blair in the back kitchen.

“Don’t even speak to me,” Blair says. She’s aggressively rolling out lilac fondant. “I have two cakes to make and a bride who keeps changing her mind, so I really don’t have time to deal with your betrayal.”

“Blair . . .” Natalie stands there, trying to decide how to handle this.

“I hope he’s worth it, because I think you’re making a big mistake.” Blair cuts the fondant, hitting the knife harder than necessary before putting it aside and starting on a fresh sheet. “I know he’s hot. But really?”

“Believe it or not, he’s a good guy,” Natalie finds herself saying.

Blair stares over at her in disbelief. “Is that what you call it when somebody lies to you?”

And then suddenly a very strange thought occurs to Natalie.
What if Anthony is right?
She hasn’t actually looked at Anthony’s program. Is it possible they missed something in their own calculations? She pushes the thought away for now. “What do you think of keeping the bakery open on weekends?”

“Weekends?” Blair glances over at her. “You’d have to handle it. Obviously, I have wedding cakes to deliver.”

“I’d take care of everything. I’m thinking we could focus on coffee and offer a limited bakery selection—mostly sweet breads and cookies.”

Blair slices off more lilac fondant, but doesn’t say anything.

“I went to Starbucks last weekend and it was packed.”

“You went to a Starbucks?” Her expression grows incredulous. “I don’t even know who you are anymore. What are you going to tell me next? That you’re baking with a mix?”

“I’m serious, Blair. There was a line out the door. I don’t see why we shouldn’t be getting some of that business.

Natalie can see the wheels in Blair’s head turning. She’s nothing if not pragmatic. “I suppose we could try it and see how it goes.”

Saturday morning rolls around and Natalie hasn’t heard anything from Anthony about her going over there. He’s obviously still angry. She wonders if she should do what he did and show up at his house unannounced. The problem is, she doesn’t even know where he lives. All she knows is his house is somewhere out in Carnation—a small town on the outskirts of Seattle, where it’s dark enough to avoid the city’s light pollution.

Forget it. I’m not chasing him. Women have been chasing him his whole life. If he wants me he’s going to have to make the first move.

By noon, Natalie still hasn’t heard anything. It’s like playing poker. Except who’s going to call the other’s bluff first?
It won’t be me.
When three o’clock rolls around and there’s still nothing, she figures he’s not giving in.

To heck with Anthony. I was doing just fine before he came along. I don’t need him. And I don’t care if I ever see him again.

If only she meant it.

At exactly three-twenty, her cell phone chirps and she dives for it. Pulse racing.

Are you still coming over tonight?

Natalie smiles and stares at his text for a long time, and then she puts her phone down. Decides to let him stew. She putters around the kitchen. Helps Chloe pack for the slumber party she’s going to at a friend’s house. Texts Lindsay, who’s working in her studio. She even does a load of laundry. Then finally at five-thirty, she can’t stand it any longer and texts him back.

Yes.

A few seconds later, he replies.
You made me wait over two hours for that?

She responds.
I was busy.

Doing what?

Laundry.

There’s nothing for five minutes and she can practically feel the heat billowing through the phone lines. Then finally, he texts his address, followed by the words.

Get over here right now.

Natalie’s eyes linger over his text. She should be annoyed, but instead, erotic sparks are dancing through her.

She takes her time packing an overnight bag, figuring Anthony can cool his heels some more. It’s like proofing dough—you want to get it just right, though she’s sure he wouldn’t appreciate the comparison.

Sifting through her clothes, Natalie wishes she had some kind of sexy nightie to bring along. After losing weight, she had to buy new bras and panties, but even those are mostly just cotton. She usually sleeps in a T-shirt.

I might have to go shopping.

All her life she’s hated clothes shopping, but it’s starting to grow on her. It’s kind of fun to try on new clothes, and instead of cringing at her appearance, there’s a hesitant sense of pride.

When her bag is finally packed and she can’t think of a single reason not to leave, she glances at the clock. It’s almost seven. Anthony’s not going to be happy. Once she’s in her car she punches his address into her GPS and sees it’s about thirty minutes to get there.

She imagines him pacing around, waiting for her, getting angrier by the second. Or maybe she’s got it all wrong and he’s geeking out on his computer, totally unaware of the time.

Eventually, she leaves the city behind and is driving down a country road, the sun low in the sky. Those erotic sparks are still dancing and they’re growing stronger the closer she gets.

Her GPS guides her to turn off onto a private drive with tall trees in front that eventually clear away to reveal a two-story craftsman-style house sitting on a flat piece of land. It’s modest, but well-cared for. Anthony’s black SUV is parked in the driveway and she pulls up beside it, glad for the confirmation that she found the right place.

Walking up his driveway with her overnight bag, Natalie gets a jolt when she hears Anthony’s voice.

“Where the hell have you been?” he growls.

He’s standing at the front door leaning against the frame. Arms crossed. Face stern. All his usual good humor seems to have drained away.

Drawing closer, she sees he’s wearing a fitted white
Star Wars
T-shirt and jeans, his feet bare. Even with the scowl on his face he’s devastatingly handsome. It’s an effort to not let his appearance intimidate her.

Anthony steps aside to let her enter his house. She tries to look around, but can’t because he’s now looming directly in front of her. He takes her bag and puts it down.

“Answer me.”

Natalie doesn’t reply and his intelligent eyes are taking her in.

“You did it on purpose, didn’t you? Making me wait because you want to jerk my chain.”

“No, it’s not like that.” Though it occurs to her it’s a lot like that.

“I don’t believe you. I think you’re holding a grudge.” He steps closer and lowers his voice. “But you’re torn, aren’t you, Miss Natalie? Because no one’s ever made you feel like I do.”

Part of her is astonished at Anthony’s perceptiveness, but the other part is annoyed by it. “Considering you’re only the second man I’ve ever slept with, it’s not that impressive.”

There’s a smirk on his face. “It wouldn’t matter how many men you’d slept with.” He leans down and whispers in her ear. “We’d still be hot together.”

Her breath hitches.

She’s wearing a pearl blouse with a dark camisole underneath and his deft fingers make quick work of the buttons. Natalie doesn’t stop him. When he sees the camisole beneath her blouse, he studies it—his smile turns wicked.

“I approve,” Anthony says in low murmur, his hands traveling to her breasts.

Those erotic sparks are turning to a bonfire now. She’s already shaking with lust—embarrassed at her strong reaction. Everything he said was true.

No one has ever made me feel like this.

He leans close, but instead of kissing her, runs his mouth along her neck where he takes little bites, then licks them, blowing on her skin to cool the sting.