Page 19 of Coming Home

She tapped her right foot. “The last date was two years ago, the last boyfriend was four years ago, and my last one-night stand was a year ago. So, it’s been a while.”

“Are the nerves because it’s been a while or because it’s Duncan?” Elle asked, walking to the wardrobe.

She shrugged. This wasn’t like her to get anxious about a date. It wasn’t like her to fret over what to wear or to look at her clothes and think none of them would do. Thatshewouldn’t do. Self-doubt and second-guessing were a new bag of chips for her. The taste was sharp, like salt and vinegar in her mouth, but had, nonetheless, taken root since coming home.

She studied her reflection in the mirror. Where once she reveled in her wavy sandy hair, eyes the color of a stormy sky,and soft yet strong, petite frame, she cringed at what she saw now. The image seemed distorted, like a cruel funhouse mirror pointing out every flaw. Both seen and unseen.

Elle went on. “I was so nervous with your brother, but it was that excited nervousness. Although, I never worried about what I was wearing because he loved me in anything.” Her hazel eyes sparkled.

“I think he loves you best in nothing at all.”

Pink rouged Elle’s cheeks. “My point is…dress for yourself. The right person will see you because you’re showing yourself. For the record, I think who you are is amazing.” Elle held up a spaghetti-strap fuchsia, fit-and-flare dress.

“Easy for you to say. You’re you.” She flinched as insecurity slipped out.

“For a long time, I thought I wasn’t enough. Your brother once said to me he wished I could see myself through his eyes. It took time, and it’s still a battle, but I see myself…not through his eyes but with my own. I see what he sees in me…and I like me. I can only hope you’ll see yourself the way the people that love you do. You’re a perfect summer day…warm, full of sunshine, and missed when away.”

With a small grin, Nat took the dress.

Thirty minutes later, Nat arrived at the Sea Serpent restaurant, parked her sunny yellow Jeep, and jumped out. The kitten heels of her white shoes kicked up loose gravel with each step toward the entrance.

Duncan waited just inside the door. In a fitted navy suit that molded over his muscular physique and those reckless blondwaves smoothed with product, he appeared the dashing do-gooder attorney from a TV courtroom drama.

“Natalie,” he greeted her with a smile.

A flutter bloomed in her abdomen and wiggled across her entire body. “You look very fancy.”

He leaned in, placing a chaste kiss on her cheek. “I came from the courthouse. My last case ran late, so I didn’t have time to change.”

“No problem for me. You look handsome.”

His bourbon-colored gaze dragged over her figure. “You look…cute.”

Cute?Her stare flicked down to the simple fuchsia cotton dress.Maybe I should have borrowed Elle’s red dress…and a belt.What twenty-eight-year-old doctor wanted to be cute? Hell, what twenty-eight-year-oldperiodwanted to be cute?

Sigh. Ask Elle to go shopping for some pervy-intention-inducing clothes.

“Welcome.” The hostess appeared. “Let me take you to your table.” She pulled two leather-bound menus from below the hostess stand and motioned for them to follow.

Their corner table overlooked the serene waters of Silver Lake. A blood-orange glow permeated the room from the setting sun streaming in through the floor-to-ceiling windows. On the table, light flickered from the jade-green sea glass candleholder like a witness to this second first date.

That knowledge released a strange swirl through her. This wasn’t the first time she bit her lip and fidgeted with the hem of her skirt, wondering what to say to Duncan on a first date. For a moment, she was sixteen again, smoothing down the satin fabric of her tea-length dress as they sat side-by-side on gymnasium bleachers at the homecoming dance.

He leaned across the table. “Nervous?”

The question was a balm for her nerves. It was like a diagnosis. Once you identified the problem, you can treat it.

She blew out a breath. “I know I shouldn’t be. We’ve done this before.”

“I don’t think we’ve donethisbefore.”

“What?” she guffawed. “We dated for almost two years.”

“That was high school. We were kids. We barely knew what dating was.”

Her brows knitted together. “I think I barely know what dating is now.”

“Sounds like you’ve dated the wrong men. Good thing I came along to help refine your understanding of dating.” His low voice almost dripped with smooth caramel.

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