Page 67 of Some Like It Hott

I become aware of a disturbance in the circle of friends and family around me. Big eyes and coughs and Hanna’s not-terribly-subtle hand across the throat in the universal signal forCut!

“Hey, everyone,” Natalie says smoothly, joining the circle, smiling around at us.

34

Natalie

“He’s just freaked out,” Sonya says, behind me.

I turn, overstuffed plate in hand, to find her holding a similarly packed-to-the-gills selection of Amanda’s international appetizers.

“Preston,” she clarifies. “Quinn was the same way at first. The Hott brothers take a while to—settle down.”

“It’s not like that,” I say. “It’s just—we’re just?—”

My shoulders slump.

She puts a hand on my arm. “Welcome to the club,” she says. “Women whose lives have been turned upside down by Fox Hott, usually known as ‘Granddad’ or ‘my fucking grandfather.’”

I smile.

“Did you know him?”

“A little,” she says. “I liked him. He was a curmudgeon, but his heart was mostly in the right place. Not that you can tell from the amount of chaos he’s wreaked after death. Although I think even Quinn and Shane might grudgingly concede that he’s done more good than harm. So far.” She shrugs. “You may beg to differ.”

I shake my head. “No. I wouldn’t undo meeting Preston and getting to be”—I hesitate, smile wryly—“friends? With him.”

“Honey, I don’t think friends look at you the way that man looks at you. Like he hasn’t eaten for a month and you’re a make-your-own-sundae extravaganza.”

“You caught him at a bad angle,” I say. “He was probably ogling the food table.”

She smiles. “Okay,” she says. “If you say so. And whatever is or isn’t true of you and Preston, I’m glad you’re working at Hott Springs Eternal and I’m glad we’re getting to know you. And I hope you’ll keep hanging out with Ivy and Reggie and me.”

“I’d love to,” I say.

She smiles at me. “Good. Now. Tell me what you need Reggie to do next weekend at the festival, nail-wise.”

“Natalie!”

Preston must have followed me from Hanna’s place to the lodge and caught the elevator behind mine. He jogs down the hall now, lean and athletic and fully at ease in that gorgeous body of his, his face lined with concern.

“Natalie. I’m sorry. I?—”

“No,” I say, cutting him off, waving a hand. “I get it. And you were right. It’s not ahappily ever afterkind of thing. There was never any expectation that it might be. You weren’t saying anything I wouldn’t have said, too, if they’d put me on the spot like that.”

He opens his mouth, but I’m on a roll, eager to get the words out before he can do something awful, like apologize for leading me on.

“This, us”—I gesture between us—“it’s you getting a chance to finally do what you want to do, justbecause. On impulse. And I don’t expect more from you than that. I certainly don’t expect happily ever after.”

He’s shaking his head. Hard. “No,” he says. “What I said was harsh. Rude. And I didn’t mean it. My brothers get me riled up, and—look, Natalie, whatever happens next, what’s happened between us so far is…” His gaze holds mine, warm and earnest.

Hope rolls through me, with a sweet kick of adrenaline.

“Real.”

He reaches out and takes both my hands, wrapping them up so they disappear in the size and strength of his. “It’s real, and it was special to me. It wasn’t following an impulse or scratching an itch. I did what I did—kissed you, touched you—because I like you. A lot. Because I wanted to be closer to you.”

God. His words. That’s a lot of truth from a guy who a couple of weeks ago would barely talk to me. All of me softens, all of me yearns toward him like a flower toward the sun—but I hold myself back because even if all that’s true…