“Sorry, darlin’. Never expected you to clean up so well.”
And damn had she cleaned up well. He took another look. Couldn’t help himself. He was used to seeing Natalie in baggy jeans and an apron covered in some kind of mess, and thank god for that. He could see her as simply Nat, nothing else and nothing more. The cute little girl grown up into the cute town cupcake baker.
But today? Tonight? Wearing that dress? Every ounce of desire he’d tamped down threatened to rise up.
Get a hold of yourself!
What the hell was wrong with him? The way she pushed his buttons, and the way he felt watching her go out with idiots from her teenage years to now had always come with the territory.
Territory…like the uncharted territory that trailed right between some serious creamy cleavage—
“Get out of that dress,” he muttered.
“Excuse me?” she said and folded her arms over her chest.
Great, that made the “territory” way more enticing to explore. Which was fine for him. But if it attracted more idiots like the one she’d been talking to, he’d never forgive himself.
“I just don’t know why you’re dressed like that.”
She glanced down at herself. “Um, because I’m a twenty-five-year-old woman and can dress myself in whatever I want, that’s why.”
And there was that attitude. But he’d always dealt with her snark in fine fashion, and he’d deal with it now. No matter how much she delighted in pushing his buttons— She. Would. Not. Win.
“Why are you staring at me?” she said.
’Cause you look like a fuckin’ bombshell.
Then her green eyes went wide. “Oh God, is there something in my teeth?” She grabbed the butter knife next to her and examined her reflection.
“Jesus, Natalie, this is date behavior?” he asked. And no, there was nothing in her perfectly straight white teeth. In fact, she had pristinely lined red lipstick. A very good look. But not on her, he reminded himself.
She put the knife down. “Like you have room to critique—the one man in history who’s never been on an actual date,” those red lips shot back at him.
“Hey, I’ve taken women to—”
“Your truck?”
She had a point there. “My truck is very nice. And besides, I’m sure I’ve taken a woman out for a meal before.”
Though he couldn’t recall who or when. But surely he must have. Nevertheless, he wasn’t one to lead anyone on. The women he saw always knew upfront that he was a casual, one night at a time, no strings kind of guy. And if that one night happened in his truck, well then, who was he to deny a lady? Besides, he never treated them poorly. Ever. In fact, he took pride in being so direct with them from the get-go that a relationship was never on the table.
He leaned his elbow on the bar and took another swig of his beer. “Why would you care anyway, Nat? You’re not even enjoying yourself.”
She frowned at him. “How would you know?”
“Because I saw you.”
“Stalker,” she mumbled.
“Observant,” he corrected. “It’s easy to see how awkward you are with that guy.” And how the man she was with clearly didn’t appreciate her the way he should. Why the hell would he look at another woman with Natalie in all her irritating beauty right in front of him?
She opened her mouth like she was ready to argue, but then they both caught sight of Boring Guy.
“Awkward,” she repeated, and for some reason East’s chest hurt for a second. It was the way she’d said that one word, like just the sound of the letters were distasteful. Her pretty, red-painted mouth turned down and her brows furrowed. She looked lost. Like she didn’t know what to say. Like…Jesus, like she was suddenly awkward with him. And he didn’t like it.
But in true Natalie fashion, she shook off the expression and hustled off the bar stool.
“What the—” East said, but he didn’t get any more words out, because the woman grabbed her purse and bolted around the back of the bar and toward the narrow hallway. She kept her head down to skirt past Boring Guy and make a beeline toward her cupcake shop.
East didn’t know whether to call after her or chuckle at her discomfort. Natalie St. Clair had a stigma of being awkward and nervous, but somehow everyone’s best friend. Hell, giving her shit for being so fidgety had been half the fun for East and Matt when they were all teenagers. She’d always taken it in good stride, though. Always laughed along.
Tonight she’d looked disappointed, though. Sad. And as much as he wanted to kick Boring Guy’s throat in for caring so little about giving her what she needed, he couldn’t forget that brief moment where she’d seemed at a loss for words with him. East and Natalie. No matter how much they’d gotten on each other’s nerves, she’d never been awkward with him. But something was different tonight. Something that had sent her out the bar without another word. Something that made every protective instinct in his body light on fire.
He went after her.