Reprise (Ruby Riot #3) Page 7

  “Sorry.” I drag the curtain back across the window and we regard each other in the semi-darkness.

  “Not enough beds,” he mutters. “You done with yours?”

  “Done with what?”

  “Your bed.”

  “I guess, for now, but—”

  “Cool.” Nate stands and holy crap he’s practically naked. Again. At least this time he’s wearing briefs, not that this helps my flaring desire for him.

  This time I don’t look away. I’ve traced the tattooed skulls on his hard chest with my fingers, had my hands on his ass, and explored his skin with my mouth, but chose to hide from myself how bloody hot this guy is.

  I spend days promoting exactly this, but here he isn’t the rock star commodity. This is Nate Campbell alone in a room with me. As he stretches upwards to pull his T-shirt on, his briefs shift down to reveal more of the heart and wings tattoo disappearing inside.

  My hormones surge into life, instantly remembering the physical contact we shared and the effect it had. The same is happening now. Get a grip, Riley.

  “My eyes are here.” I look up and meet Nate’s smirking face. I have no excuse to offer for my blatant perving and turn away as he bends and shrugs his jeans on. I don’t turn back until the jangle of his belt buckle stops.

  Nate grabs the blanket from the sofa. “Gonna go to bed. Hardly fucking slept on there.”

  “It’s eight a.m.”

  “And? I said I’m fucking knackered.” Nate drags the blue blanket across the floor and out of the room after him. “If they need help digging snow or some shit like that, ask someone to wake me up. Otherwise, I’ll see you later.”

  “Right.”

  He pauses in the doorway and looks over his shoulder. “And Riley?”

  “What?”

  “Please don’t come into the bedroom while I’m in there.”

  “Why would I do that?”

  He bites his lip. “Because I normally sleep naked and I’m scared you won’t be able to control yourself.”

  Leaving a flash of an image of Nate naked behind, the arrogant jerk heads to bed.

  I return to the kitchen and as I drink my tea, something I never considered crosses my mind. Nate slept on the sofa and now wants my bed. There aren’t enough for everybody. We’d better be out of here before tonight.

  10

  RILEY

  I spend the rest of the morning chatting to my fellow guests. George and Val run the pub and have for almost twenty years. Becca works part-time and is studying business at college. The other guy, Jason, is a regular who’s a little older than Becca and a close friend. Judging by his body language, I’d lay bets he’s her boyfriend. Either that or would like to be.

  Becca in particular is interested in my job and asks candid questions about Ruby Riot, confiding she’d wished it was Jax stranded in the pub. I smile and resolve to tell Nate this fact, next time we have a snarkfest.

  Val makes lunch and refuses offers of help, and Nate doesn’t reappear. Afterwards, George and Jason dig snow from the front door, but with more falling and no access to the cars or roads, the exercise is futile.

  George gives up and speaks to friends in the village; all roads leading up here are now blocked, at least for the day. No snowploughs can travel from the nearest town to the outlying villages, never mind to isolated pubs.

  Once I accept this is the way things are, I find a quiet corner and call Mum to update her. Nate remains absent. I’m all for socialising with these people, I’m stuck with them for another night after all, but I’d like to retrieve my laptop from upstairs and work to pass the time. I have a huge event I’m in the midst of organising, involving a prestige client and his US PR firm. I field some e-mails, but the stress mounts. Mitchell, the guy I’m liaising with, arrives from New York next week, and if I’m not organised it will be a dent in my professional reputation.

  By two p.m., I’m tired again and desperate for some time alone. Instead, I’m attempting to answer e-mails on my phone while Jason and Becca chatter.

  “Typical rock star, eh?” says Jason, inclining his head upwards. “Does what he wants. Sleeps all day after a few beers.”

  “So Nate slept on the sofa because he was drunk?”

  “He sank a few. Can hold his ale better than most,” he replies.

  “Nate didn’t sleep well so I think he’s catching up.” And why am I defending him?

  “I told Nate to go to bed, but he mumbled something about you and collapsed on the sofa,” Becca says.

  “Probably. I can’t imagine he’d want to sleep in a bed with me.”

  “So you’re not a couple? I thought he only slept on the sofa because he was too drunk to move,” she says.

  “No, we’re not. I work with him. Nate was driving us back to London before… we got stuck.”

  “Going to have to fight over the bed, then,” says Becca with a smile. “Only two guest rooms. Jason and I have the other room, and we’re happy to share.”

  Becca grips Jason’s hand and drops her gaze from his, fighting a smile.

  “I can share a room with him if I have to, but not a bed. Nate can use the sofa.”

  “Nate said you work for him. Isn’t it up to him where he sleeps, then?” asks Jason.

  I’m already picturing the situation. Belligerent Nate refusing to leave the room, taking the bed, and sending me to the sofa in the lounge. He’s a selfish pig. Why would he offer me the bed? Then what right do I have to demand using it?

  Last night I was lucky Nate was too drunk to kick me out.

  “I hope the sofa is comfy,” I reply with a weak smile.

  Fed up with waiting for Nate to come downstairs, I leave my new friends and bang on the bedroom door.

  “What?” calls a voice.

  “Are you awake?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Aren’t you hungry?”

  “Val brought me some lunch.”

  “What? When?”

  The door opens and a brighter Nate, dressed in his usual clothes again regards me. “She brought me my dry clothes. Nice lady, she fetched me a sandwich too. Reckon she wants a picture of the star who visited the pub, to hang on the wall and add to her collection.”

  Great, should’ve guessed at least one of the females in the building would be star struck by Nate and the charm he turns on when he feels like it.

  “A bit rude of you not to come downstairs and talk to people.”

  Nate shoves his hands into his back pockets. “I will, when I want to.”

  “So you’ve sat in here awake for a few hours?”

  “Yeah, why?”

  “I’ve been waiting for you to come downstairs so I can get into the room! I want to work and my laptop is in my bag.”

  “No wonder your bag was so fucking heavy! And seriously? You want to work?”

  “Why not?” I push past him into the room. His leather jacket is slung on the end of the bed and my bag is in the corner, unzipped.

  I halt, catching a familiar orange scent. “Have you used my body wash?”

  “Couldn’t find anything else.”

  “You took something from my bag?”

  “Relax, Smiley, I didn’t use your toothbrush.” He runs a finger along his teeth. “Could do with one though.”

  I stare, heart rate picking up at his invasion of my privacy. Then my cheeks heat at the thought of him rifling through my clothes.

  “Saw the knickers you’re always getting in a twist too.” Nate cocks a brow. “You’re a matching underwear kind of girl. I never expected that.”

  Anger flares more heat into my cheeks. “You dick!”

  Nate’s eyes darken as he steps closer and whispers, “I like black, for future reference.”

  “Future reference?”

  “Should you decide to act on your obvious need to finish what we started two years ago.”

  “I thought I was clear on the subject back then.”

  “Yeah?” He pushes hair from my face and holds his
lips close to mine. “Then why do you still look at me the way you did back then?”

  This man infuriates the hell out of me, but he will not seduce me out of my clothes. Even if the effect he’s having is exactly as two years ago. I close my eyes and pull together my dignity before sidestepping him.

  “I’m not that bored yet, Nate.”

  He laughs. “Yet.”

  “I only came in here to find my laptop.” I pull out my MacBook and pointedly zip up the bag again. “Stay out of my things.”

  He crosses his arms. “Sure thing, Smiley.”

  I pull myself to his height, half-tempted to smack him over the head with my laptop. “Call me that one more bloody time, and I’ll slap that stupid smirk off your face.”

  Nate catches my hand and the physical contact shocks me. Literally, as the sparks shoot up my arm and through the barrier between us. Nate’s fingers encompass my wrist, pulling tight my insides. When Nate carried me up the hill, the closest we were was my face to the back of his head. The situation didn’t endear me to anything but the need to warm up.

  This skin on skin physical contact again grips me harder than his fingers.

  “I apologise, Riley.” His hold remains and my breathing shifts as the intense look continues. The softness of his tone and apologetic smile almost convince me he’s contrite.

  Almost.

  I break away. “I have work to do.”

  “Of course you do.”

  I take my shaky self away. I’m not only worried how long I’ll be stuck in this pub, but also how long I can hold back on giving in to this man’s maddening sexual pull he’s had over me since the day we met. The one Nate’s acutely aware of and clearly intends to work on.

  11

  RILEY

  A couple of hours of e-mails, and another chat to Josh about his day at school, and I’m calmer. Nate sits in the bar, drinking, and I take a nap on the bed to make the most of my use of it, considering I’ll be kicked out onto the sofa tonight.

  I’m bloody thankful the central heating and power haven’t failed in the building, but as I watch the unrelenting white storm outside, I’m increasingly nervous this could happen. I don’t have any warm clothes with me, mostly business wear and one set of casual clothes. More than Nate though, who has the clothes he walked through the snow in, his phone and wallet, and nothing else.

  Nate avoids mentioning the crash and events leading up to it, but we haven’t exactly sat around chatting. We’ve been alone twice; there’s only so long we can avoid spending time together. Plus we need to finalise sleeping arrangements.

  I’m apprehensive as I look for Nate. The log fire crackles downstairs and Nate sits with Becca and Jason at one of the round tables in the warm room. Jason’s closer to Becca than before, knee against hers. As usual, Nate’s presence dominates the room. His back is to me as he watches Becca unpack something from a cardboard box on the table. She looks up as I walk in.

  “Riley! Just in time. We’re about to play Monopoly.”

  “Monopoly?” I ask.

  Becca pushes glasses out of the way and sets out the board.

  “Nate’s playing Monopoly?” No way.

  “All three of us. Four with you, and it’s better with more players,” continues Becca. “Jase, sort the money.”

  Jason dutifully picks the paper money and cards from the box.

  “Nate?” I ask.

  He shrugs without turning around. “Yeah. Gonna beat their asses.”

  I giggle and Nate throws me a look over his shoulder. Nate playing a board game? This, I need to see. I straighten my face. “Sure. I’ll be the car.”

  I played Monopoly for years as a kid, love the game, and always won. I don’t have any siblings, but I easily outplayed my cousins. My strategies flood back, and I soon have the properties I need lined up. As the game progresses, it’s clear Becca and Jason aren’t as skilled at the game as I am, but Nate is. Concentration lining his face, he focuses on the game and drops his attitude. Nate beats me to some of my favourite properties, and we relax into friendly rivalry, the animosity retreating.

  An hour and a half into the game, Becca drops her meagre collection of property cards on the table.

  “I suck at this!” she complains. “You two have all the cards. Don’t they, Jase?”

  “You can share mine,” he replies. “We’ll play together if that’s okay?”

  “No problem.” Even together, they won’t beat me; Nate’s my only rival.

  The game continues and Becca switches to flirting with Jason, touching his arm and moving progressively closer as she “helps” him with the game. At one point, Nate makes a soft amused sound and we exchange a small, knowing smile at the humour in their will she, won’t she behaviour. The atmosphere between Nate and me swaps between serious competition to teasing jokes over trips to jail, as we triumphantly take money from each other.

  Nate snatches a Community Chest card from my hand before I have a chance to read. “Ha. You won second prize in a beauty contest!” I brace myself for the oncoming sarcasm, but instead, he taps the card against his chin. “Kinda see why. Should’ve been first prize.”

  “Smooth!” laughs Jason and hands me the prize money from the bank.

  The whisky glass besides Nate’s several empty beer glasses increases his volume and humour as the game progresses, and I avoid making this worse by not responding to his dig at me. I pass the dice to Jason.

  “A rock star tells her she’s beautiful, and she ignores him!” Nate throws his hands up in mock despair, and Becca grins at me.

  Oh, God.

  “Thank you, Nate,” I mutter.

  “And?”

  “And what?”

  “And I’m a sexy fucker too, right?”

  “You need me to tell you that? Open the internet, Nate, plenty of girls on there will confirm your statement.”

  He snorts and drains his glass. “Whatever. Another?” He gestures at the empty glasses on the table.

  The couple lapse into silence when Nate walks back to the bar. I neaten my pile of money, irritated that Nate has returned to his usual behaviour around me. Jason excuses himself and heads to the bathrooms.

  “You and him?” I ask, inclining my head in Jason’s direction. “What’s happening?”

  Becca’s cheeks flush. “Nothing.”

  “Liar! Have you kissed him yet?”

  “Once. Years ago.”

  “I think he wants to kiss you again, and more.”

  “Do you?”

  I laugh. “It’s obvious.” Becca’s pretty in an understated way, petite and curvy, and Jason frequently stares at these curves when she’s unaware. “Maybe he saw your star-struck looks at Nate and decided he’d better lift his game.”

  Becca shakes her head. “Nate’s a nice guy.”

  I just about choke on my vodka tonic. “Really?”

  “Really helpful with Val and George, he dug a path halfway out the front without anybody asking him.” She pauses. “And he hasn’t hit on me. Jase needn’t worry about that.”

  Which of those statements surprise me the most? “I’m happy to hear he hasn’t.”

  “Nate wouldn’t with you here.”

  “Oh, I’m inclined to say he’s more likely to with me here.”

  Becca sips her drink. “You two are hard to figure out. You’ve hardly spoken since you arrived; but every time you’re together, there’s this… thing. I don’t know how to explain it. Now you’re being nice to each other maybe that’ll change things between you too?”

  “We’ve known each other a while; we don’t get along very well.”

  “A love to hate him thing, huh?” She grins. “You know that you can’t hate someone passionately unless part of you loves them too.”

  I smile at her internet meme sentiments and don’t reply.

  Nate returns and pulls the stool closer to me, as he half-drops the refilled whisky glass onto the table. He indicates Jason’s cards. “These two are nearly out of ca
sh. Down to me and you, Riley.”

  “I’m winning,” I tell him.

  “Oh, yeah?”

  “Yeah.”

  Nate’s eyes crinkle at the corners as he smiles. “You win, you get the bed.”

  “Who says I wasn’t going to take the bed anyway?”

  “I can’t sleep on the fucking sofa again!”

  “I’m sure I’ll be in bed before you finish your night of drinking; you won’t have any choice.”

  “Try me,” he says in a low voice. “Because I’ll get in with you.”

  “You will not!”

  “Then it’s your choice. I don’t care if you’re in the bed; I just want a decent sleep. Bed’s big enough. I won’t touch you. If it offends you, Smiley, sleep somewhere else.”

  I swallow down the retort he’s waiting for and roll the dice, aware of the silent discomfort of the other players at the table.

  “I think I’m done now, actually,” says Jason. “Becca’s bored.” She frowns at him. “Want to watch some TV?”

  Becca’s frown switches to a coy smile. “Sure.”

  As they walk away, Nate calls, “Make sure you’re out of there by eleven. Riley goes to bed early and she’ll need the sofa.”

  Calming breaths.

  Deep calming breaths.

  I shift to the seat Becca was in, away from Nate. He pouts at me.

  “Why do that?” I snap.

  “What?”

  “Make a big deal out of everything in front of people. They could see you were being a jerk too. I bet Jason would give the bed up for Becca.”

  “I bet Jason’s planning how to get her naked.”

  “Well, they were uncomfortable with your behaviour.”

  “Whatever.”

  Nate rolls the dice and moves his piece, and we retreat behind our walls again. I’d leave if I didn’t want to prove a point here. He lands on my Old Kent Road space, covered in hotels, and I smugly tell him how much he owes me. Nate pushes the money across the table and I gulp down my drink, suddenly enjoying the game more with everybody else away. Especially as I’m winning.

  The problem with Monopoly and two skilled players is the time taken. The problem with the time taken is the alcohol imbued. I’m not drunk, but my sharp edges are definitely smoothed and my frown has lessened. We banter back and forth as our success in the game moves up and down.