The Best Kind of Trouble

She pulled away, and he gave her a cheeky wave.

In retrospect, it was right then that she knew she was in very big trouble when it came to Patrick Hurley.

CHAPTER THREE

“SO REALLY, HE’S JUST... It’s like I keep telling myself I need to lose ten pounds before my high school reunion, but he’s a dozen doughnuts. Ooooh, Natalie, you know I’m delicious. Just one bite. I’m so good with coffee.”

Tuesday, Natalie’s housemate and best friend, broke out laughing. “I know how much you love doughnuts, too. So why not eat one? Or six? My point is, who freaking cares if you get a taste of Paddy Hurley? This isn’t Little House on the Prairie. You’re not going to get fired for premarital sex by the town elders.”

“It’s not that.” She made no bones about liking sex. Natalie considered good sex as important to her life as doughnuts and coffee. Paddy came with too many complications and too much noise. He had complicated written all over him.

“Then what is it?”

That wasn’t it, either.

“It’s just...” Natalie licked her lips. “He’s messy and complicated. He’d take so much time to handle, and I’m over handling other adults. I don’t want to be a nursemaid, a psychologist, and I sure have no desire to parent him while I’m fucking him, too. Ugh. I spent years and years stepping over people passed out in my house. I had to call the paramedics more than once because some random stranger, or my dad for that matter, had overdosed. I’ve had enough cleaning up puke and pretending not to smell liquor on breath at nine in the morning.”

She’d lived a life utterly out of control until she’d finally left home at seventeen, and even then it wasn’t until college that she finally got her shit together. Control meant everything. It meant you lived a life of your own choosing and not at someone else’s mercy, and it meant not being responsible for keeping grown-ass people from driving off a cliff.

It was the leaving that had been the key. The ultimate act of taking control of her life was walking away from that house. That pretty, solidly upper-class shell that was rotting inside. Just like her childhood had been.

“He comes with too much shit that pushes my buttons. Hot in bed or not, I just don’t want to chance it.” Paddy was a walking-talking advertisement for out of control.

Tuesday was careful to keep pity out of her eyes, but she sighed heavily. “All I’m saying is that life is made from chances you take. How do you know he won’t be worth it?”

Easy for Tuesday to say. Then again, her best friend sat in the house making gorgeous jewelry or hiking instead of going out on dates for her own messed-up reasons. Still, being someone’s friend meant knowing when to call bullshit and when to leave it alone. Tuesday wasn’t ready to confront those demons yet.

“I can’t deny knowing he lived here. I found out about six months after I bought the house here.” The fact that the dudes from Sweet Hollow Ranch lived in town and were locals who continued to make the city their home was a point of pride to Hood River. The town tended to be protective of the entire Hurley family. People didn’t call the paparazzi when one of them ate in their restaurants or shopped in their stores. There weren’t pictures sold to the tabloids of them going about their daily business.

When she’d discovered it, she’d been mildly worried, but she’d already begun to put down roots. She had no plans to run off simply because some old lover was in the same area.

And then Tuesday happened upon a storefront on Oak that she’d decided to run a business from and share half of Natalie’s house. Hood River had been a new start for both women.

“All this time I’ve lived here, and I never bumped into him or caught sight of him. I guess I had just hoped our paths wouldn’t cross.”

Tuesday made a dismissive sound. “Well, they have, and he’s clearly looking for a taste. I’m gonna guess he’ll eventually give up if you keep ignoring him. But what I’m saying is, why not see what he’s got to offer?”

Natalie wasn’t ready to admit out loud that maybe she was curious.

“Hand me the potatoes, and let’s change the subject please.”

Tuesday rolled her eyes but passed the bowl. “You did a pretty good job with these, by the way.”

Natalie’s cooking was an utter disaster, but over the years since she and Tuesday had roomed together in college, Natalie had developed a few not-awful dishes. Mainly easy stuff like sandwiches and soup, but she’d been working on mashed potatoes for a year or so, and she’d gotten to the point where nothing caught fire, and they actually tasted good.

“Now I can make canned soup, ham sandwiches and mashed potatoes. Maybe that’s what Paddy is after. He’s been waiting for a woman to make him mashed potatoes his whole life.”

They both cracked up.

“At least between the two of you, you have enough money to get takeout every night. Or maybe he can cook. That would be a bonus to the good looks and success stuff.”

“He’s probably spoiled. He lives up there on the ranch with his family. Maybe his mother cooks for him or something.”

“Maybe. But somehow I doubt it. But you won’t know unless you let him in.”

“I don’t need to know to mock him, duh. Just let me have my fun imagining him eating overcooked Hot Pockets or clinging to his mom’s apron strings.”

* * *

“SO HERE’S THE THING,” Paddy said as he sidled up to Natalie the next morning at the coffee shop. “I dig that you don’t have to be at work until nine.”

“Why?” She handed some money to Bobbi, who took in the daily Paddy show with apparent glee. “So you don’t have to get up so early to come down here and pester me?”

He laughed at that. “I’ll have you know I’ve been up since six-thirty when I helped my oldest brother deal with a fence problem. Have you ever dug a post hole? It totally sucks. Ezra is sort of insane because he seems to actually like it.”

Natalie moved to grab some honey for her latte, but he kept talking. “It’s good because I can get my work done and come down here in time for you to actually have breakfast with me sometime.”

“See you tomorrow, Bobbi.” Natalie waved and started for the door, which Paddy now held open for her.

“I don’t like getting up early. Also, I don’t eat breakfast very often.”

He took up beside her, and she didn’t stop him. “You have a muffin in that bag.”

“That’s not breakfast. Bacon and eggs with toast and maybe hash browns, that’s breakfast.”

“You’re serious about breakfast.”

“Not really. If I was, that’s what I’d be eating. Mainly I have doughnuts or muffins or a toaster-pastry thing.”

He wrinkled his nose. “Really? Those are like cardboard. Also, you don’t look like you eat doughnuts all the time.”

“I’m serious about doughnuts. But my favorite kind I have to go to Portland for. Which is why I don’t eat them all the time. And my housemate is sporty. She drags me to hike and bike and windsurf. It’s gross, but it enables me to keep my doughnut habit.”

“You cut your hair. It was long before.”

“You’re good at the non sequiturs.”

He snorted. “I’m not sure when you’re going to run off, so I’m trying to get in as much chitchat as I can before that happens.”

She stopped, turning toward him. “Why are you so persistent? I’m not even that nice to you!” It was hard for her not to be friendly to him. She liked him, for heaven’s sake.

“You don’t want me for my status.”

She shook her head, trying to understand. “Status?”

“The celebrity thing.”

She rolled her eyes. “You didn’t have any status when I met you.”

He grinned. “Nope. Just a shitty van that broke down a lot and some instruments my brothers and I played.”

She paused for long moments and then started walking again. “I cut my hair years ago. Tuesday, that’s my housemate, she went through a phase when she wanted to be a hairdresser. It lasted half a quarter. But she cut my hair, and I liked it short. Plus, I look great in hats, and short hair works that way.”

“Did that hurt? You sharing that little fact with me?” He winked, and it was cute, and she ruthlessly tried not to show how amused she was but probably failed.

“So you two have been roommates since college?”

“No. We shared an apartment in college, and then she got married and I went to grad school. But three years ago, she came to visit and wanted to set up a business here, so I offered her a place to live for a while. She never moved out. Which is good because I can’t cook, and she does and thinks it’s fun.”

“Like hiking?”

Natalie curled her lip. “Yes. Ugh.”

“No husband?”

“I would not be allowing you to walk me to my job if I had a husband, Patrick Hurley.”

Paddy’s laugh made her tingle a little. It was a bawdy laugh. “You said that like you were going to paddle me or slap my hand with a ruler. You should know that’ll only encourage me.”

She pressed her lips together and then gave up, laughing.

He kept pace, but she noted his smile from the corner of her eye. “I meant your friend.”

Duh. Of course he did. “She’s a widow.”

“Oh, damn. That sucks. I’m sorry.”

“Yeah.” They approached the library, and she handed him her coffee. “Hold that, please.” She rustled through her bag until she found her keys. “Thanks.” She took the coffee back and tucked the pastry bag into her purse.

* * *

PADDY REALLY DIDN’T want that moment between them to end, but he’d enjoyed a victory nonetheless, so he’d take that small step forward and get more next time. “Wow, I feel like we’ve turned a corner here, Natalie.” He bowed. “Thank you for letting me walk you to work.”

She appeared to be looking for something to say, and he didn’t want her to say something about him not doing it again.

“Will you let me take you to dinner?”

She sighed, but it was a sigh of longing, so he pushed ahead.

“I mean, I was aiming for breakfast since it’s the least datelike of the meals—unless you slept over, of course—and if that happens, I’ll make you bacon, eggs, hash browns and toast. Maybe even biscuits. But since we’re not at that stage yet, and you don’t eat breakfast, dinner is a good alternative.”

“Not lunch?”

Was she teasing him? That was a good sign. “I’ll take what I can get. But usually during the days when I’m here in Hood River, I’m working. Either on music or on the ranch. Summer is a crazy busy time and my brother does so much when we’re on tour, I like helping him out.”

Natalie sighed long and then shook her head as she looked him over. “Why you gotta be so human, Patrick Hurley?”

“Is that good or bad? I don’t know with you.”

She shrugged. “I don’t know for sure yet, either. You can pick me up from here tomorrow night. I’m off at six.”

With that, she unlocked the door and went inside. “Have a good day, Paddy.” She waved one last time, locked the door once more and disappeared into the building, leaving him standing there with a dumb smile on his face.

CHAPTER FOUR

“I HAVE NO IDEA why I said yes. I should call him and cancel.” Natalie paced in front of her closet, still only half-dressed.

Tuesday just rolled her eyes. “You don’t even have his number.”

“I have his mother’s. She’s got a library card. I looked her up in the system. I can call her, and I’m sure she can pass the message on.”

“Sure, that’s not creepy at all.”

“Gah!”

Tuesday snorted. “Hush up. Wear that blue dress with the white piping at the neckline. You can wear it all day at work, and it’ll still be nice when you’re off. It says I care enough to not look like I slept in a Dumpster, but I’m still casual enough to walk away from your ass if you start anything and look fabulous doing it.”

Natalie halted and then laughed. “You should do red carpet shows on the entertainment networks. I like that better than ‘I’m wearing blah from her spring collection because cerise is the it color’ or whatever.”

“It’s why even after you marry Patrick Hurley and spit out his spawn, we’ll always watch the awards show red carpet together.”

“Marriage? No, thanks. I’m not even convinced I should go to dinner with him. Anyway, he’s not after marriage. He just wants to fuck me.”

“Well, look at you!” Tuesday waved a hand in Natalie’s direction. “You’re all blonde and adorable, and you have great tits. Boys like those. Of course he wants to fuck you. Also, he has.”

Natalie struggled sometimes with the balance between owning what she liked and feeling guilty about it, anyway. Breasts had a lot of power. She did have some nice ones, and Paddy seemed to be impressed. Knowing that filled her with a sort of taboo power. What that said other than she liked that he liked it, she wasn’t sure.

She pulled the dress from her closet and looked at it.

“See what I mean?” Tuesday indicated the dress with a tip of her chin. “Listen and obey always. I know things. Now, I have to get ready to open the shop. Wear those flats, but take some heels in your bag. Don’t argue with me about this. Heels are perfect with that dress and, like tits, everyone likes cute heels.”

Tuesday kissed her cheek and left the room.

She did wear the blue dress, of course. With flats and the blue high-heeled sandals tucked in her bag to change into. On her way out the door, Tuesday tossed her a little drawstring bag. “I made those a few days ago. They’ll be supercute with the outfit.”

Her housemate, in addition to running a custom framing shop, made jewelry she sold in her store. The earrings Natalie spilled into her palm were dangly bits of blue. All together they made a dragonfly, one of Tuesday’s favorite subjects.

Natalie took off the earrings she had on and replaced them with the dragonflies. “Thanks.”

“Text me if you need me to save you. Otherwise, you can debrief me tomorrow morning. If you sleep over at his place, text so I won’t worry.”

“I’m not sleeping over at his place.” No matter how sexy he was. No matter how much knowledge she had about how good he was in bed. Sleeping with Paddy on the first date—despite their history—would be stupid.

“That’s the saddest thing I’ve heard today, Nat.”

* * *

“WHERE ARE YOU off to tonight?”

Paddy tossed the ball one last time, and Ezra’s dumb but sweet-as-hell dog ran off after it, getting distracted by a butterfly.

He looked up at his mother, who stood on Ezra’s porch with Damien’s wife, Mary, and tried to pitch his voice low to avoid notice. “I’ve got a date.”

“Is that a euphemism?” his mother called out. So much for trying to keep it quiet.

Mary laughed, and Paddy shook his head. “You’re jaded, Mom.”

“I raised you four! I’m an eternal optimist. You don’t date, you go off and have your little flings and return home in a week or so.”

“Well, I’ll have you know I’m taking a librarian to dinner.”

“Is that a euphemism?” Mary asked with a smirk.

“She works here in town, as it happens. I’m making her dinner on the boat.”

“Do you need help?”

One of the best things about having Mary as a sister-in-law was that she was an amazing cook. The author of three cookbooks, she was their own personal tour chef, too.

“I’m grilling some salmon from the fishing trip I took with Vaughan a few weeks back. I was going to have corn on the cob to go with.”

Mary cocked her head. “You’re going to serve your date corn on the cob? Is this a first date?”

By the scandalized look on his sister-in-law’s face, he figured it was probably not a good thing to do.

“In a manner of speaking. I knew her before. Years ago. Before we hit it big.”

His mother crossed her arms over her chest. “Oh, and she suddenly wants to go out with you?” Sharon Hurley was not one for any foolery that had to do with anyone taking advantage of her children.

He laughed. “Well, Ezra thinks this is pretty hilarious and all, but no. I ran into her in town last month, and she pretended not to remember me at first. I’ve been hounding her pretty much three or four days a week since then to get her to go out with me. She’s utterly disinterested in me as a celebrity. In fact, it freaks her out, I think. That’s why I’m doing dinner on the boat instead of taking her to a restaurant.”

Mary perked up. “Oh, well, then. Wait. Natalie? Supercute little blonde? She’s one of those who wears cigarette pants and flats and looks like an ad for a vintage clothing catalog?”

He kept looking back and forth between his mother and sister-in-law, confused by Mary’s questions and hoping to get some sort of clue from the context.

His mother’s brows rose, and then she nodded, patting Mary’s arm.

That shared look could very well equal trouble for Paddy, so he wanted to nip it right in the bud before it could turn into a reality. “What is going on between you two? It looks like there’s a caper brewing. No capers. For God’s sake. It took me a month of following this woman around like a lost puppy just to get her to let me walk her to work. If you two rush in like Lucy and Ethel, you’re going to ruin all my progress. Also, what are cigarette pants?”

Mary waved that away. “Never mind, it’s her. There aren’t any other blondes working at the library. Don’t make her eat corn on the cob. Not on the first date. Even if you knew her from before.” Mary came down the steps. “Come with me to the house. I’m sure I have some sides for you.” She tucked her arm through his.

“Are you taking pity on me?” He liked to tease her. She’d come from an equally insane family and fit in theirs just fine. She was the sister he’d never had, and she kept his brother Damien in line and from burning things down. Plus, there was that really good cook thing, and she wasn’t a chore to look at, either.

“That’s what family does.” She winked.

“Let’s drive over. I want to get to the boat and get things set up. I’m picking her up at six.”

He opened the door of his car for her, and she got in.

He wasn’t stupid with his money, but he loved cars and had a special garage built at his place for his collection. He’d decided to take the Shelby fastback. He’d had it restored up in Seattle the year before, and he loved the summertime when he could drive it often.

It was a sexy car. And yes, he was showing off. A little.

Damien was out front when they arrived at his and Mary’s house, just down the road from the main house their parents lived in. His brother’s face lit when he caught sight of Mary. “Hey, there, Curly. Have you been keeping Paddy out of trouble?” Damien kissed his wife soundly.

“Impossible to keep the Hurley boys out of trouble. Only your mother has the fortitude for that. But he’s got a date, and I’ve got stuff for him.”

Damien slung an arm around his wife’s shoulders as he took Paddy in. “Don’t give him those potatoes. Well, you can’t, anyway, because I ate them about ten minutes ago.”

“Damien! Those were for dinner.”

He laughed and Paddy rolled his eyes at his bottomless pit of a brother.

“I was hungry. How can I resist? They didn’t even have a sticky note on them saying not to eat them like the other stuff does.”

“You ignore those, too. I figured if I put the potatoes behind the beets you’d never see them.” She looked back over her shoulder. “Come on in. Let’s see what’s left after Hurricane Damien has gone through my kitchen like a plague of locusts.” Mary poked Damien’s side. “Where do you even put it all? How fair is that, anyway?”

Paddy did what he was told, sitting at the bar while she put together a tote of food for him. Her colored-cotton totes were famous in his family. She had several, each with colored stripes indicating which of them got what bounty. His was blue, and she handed him three, one of which was insulated.

“Balsamic strawberries. They’ll be awesome for dessert. Wild strawberries, even. There’s a pint of vanilla ice cream in case she wants some to go with the strawberries. The balsamic is good on that, too.”

He used to question her weird food combos. After three years of her cooking, he no longer doubted that whatever she gave him would taste good.

She rattled off a bunch of directions for how to deal with this or that, and he just nodded and kissed her cheek when she finished up. “Thank you.”

Damien finally roused. He’d been watching his wife through hooded eyes and Paddy tried not to think about whatever nasty stuff was going on in his brother’s head. “Wait, date? Oh! This is the librarian?”

“You knew about this and didn’t tell me?” Mary looked to her husband.

“Believe me, most of what I don’t share you’d be scandalized by, anyway.”

She rolled her eyes. “Come to breakfast tomorrow and tell us how it went. I may need to check some books out, anyway. I haven’t been down there in some time.”

“Don’t meddle, Curly.” Damien pulled on one of the long dark curls that were the source of her nickname.

“Pfft. It’s not meddling when it’s family.”

Paddy grabbed the totes. “It totally is. She’s skittish. If you poke around, just be discreet. I like this woman.”

Mary smiled up at him, patting his arm. “I can handle it. Now go. Have a good time and use a condom!”

He found himself blushing and felt better when Damien cracked up.

* * *

NATALIE GAVE HERSELF one last look in the mirror in the staff bathroom. The earrings made her smile. Like a little bit of Tuesday was going on the date with her.

Date. With Paddy Hurley. She was so stupid.

And yet there she was, freshening her lipstick and finger-combing her hair. “Time to go,” she told herself in the mirror before she waved goodbye to her coworkers and headed out to the sidewalk.

Where she heard the purr of an engine and knew it was him before the deep green classic car pulled into view.

He pulled up and shook his head so hard when she moved to open her door that she drew back as he got out.

“Wait!” He came around.

“Is it broken?”

Paddy snorted. “No. But my manners aren’t, either. First things first.” He took a long look up and down, and she was glad she’d worn the heels. “You look pretty. I want to say more, but I don’t know if I should.”

“Well, now you have me nervous.”

He kissed her then. Nothing really untoward, a quick peck smack-dab on the lips. But those traitorous lips tingled and his scent was in her by that point. He wore cologne, which seemed odd, but it was nice. Sexy and masculine without being overwhelming.

He hadn’t had a beard all those years before. She liked the slight scratch of it.

Paddy opened the door and indicated she get in. She managed to do so without showing her underpants or looking too ungraceful.

He got in just a second or two later and pulled away from the curb.

“You have great legs and cute toes.”

He said this as his attention was on the road, so he didn’t catch her blush.

“Um. Thanks.” God, did he have a foot fetish or something weird? She thought back on their time and flushed, a sweat breaking out. Okay, so that was unwise because he was really supergood at sexy stuff. But he hadn’t seemed unnaturally interested in her feet.

“Where are we headed?”

“My boat. I figured we could have dinner out on the deck. It’s such a nice night and it’ll be light until so late. I’ll take us away from the marina. I know a nice little stretch just east of here. Deserted, so we’ll be able to see the sunset and I’ll have you all to myself. But not in an it rubs the lotion on its skin or it gets the hose again way.”

She burst out laughing. “Did you just quote Silence of the Lambs at me? Serial killer dialogue meant to reassure me?”

He cursed under his breath, and she reached out to pat his arm to reassure him. “I know it was a joke. Really. I’m more concerned you have a foot fetish than with you being a serial killer.”

“Foot fetish?”

“The toes comment? I mean, look, if it floats someone’s boat, more power to them. But I can’t even get a pedicure because people touching my feet weirds me out.”