Blake was trying to focus on manning the grill and chatting with Zack, but he couldn’t stop watching Natalie as she played queen bee with his friends like old times. Jordan was making her laugh as he gestured widely about something, but there was a tightness to her shoulders now. The rest of her body language seemed off too.
Something had changed. Had the cameras and likely gossip gotten to her? Had it made her regret her decision to declare they were back together?
“I think you have her, Ace,” Zack said quietly beside him.
“God, I hope so,” he responded and turned back to poke at the steaks.
He overcooked the steaks because he couldn’t tear his gaze away from the slight line between Natalie’s brows, portending trouble. The baked potatoes he’d stuck on the coals came out charred, but Natalie peeled off the burned skin and whipped them into a delicious makeshift potato salad. Fortunately, he couldn’t screw up bagged salad or the fabulous gelato medley his assistant had brought up from Amore Gelato in Denver.
And throughout all of it, Natalie wouldn’t sustain eye contact with him. His dread grew.
After dinner, everyone clustered around a Monopoly board. The few who did not play watched, and it came as a surprise to no one when Sam was crowned the victor. When Natalie started to clear the patio tables of the dishes from their meal, clearly in busy mode, Blake stopped her with a gentle touch on her arm.
“You don’t have to clean up,” he said, rubbing the bare skin of her tense forearm, wanting so badly to snatch her up and haul her off to his bedroom to alleviate this gaping stiffness between them. Whatever the cause.
“I don’t mind helping you out,” she only answered, stacking the plates, not meeting his eyes again.
Maybe acting like everything was how it used to be—her hanging out with his friends—had made her anxious. Maybe he was over-thinking this.
“Thanks, babe.”
She gave him a half smile and wandered inside with a stack of dishes. He felt a hand on his shoulder and looked back to see Sam.
“Breathe,” his friend suggested.
“Right.” Oxygen. That little thing.
Some of the guys chipped in to help them clean up. When the patio was clear, Jordan wandered inside before coming back out with a bottle of tequila.
“Who wants some?” he said, wiggling the bottle
A couple of the guys groaned and held their heads. Jordan tipped the bottle in Natalie’s direction.
She shuddered. “Uh. No.”
“I’ll have a shot,” Blake said.
Everyone’s heads swung in his direction.
He shrugged. “It’s recently become my favorite drink.” He hoped she’d get the message.
Natalie’s cheeks only flushed. “Well, I should go if the party is finally getting started. It was great to see all of you. I’m sure…” She paused and wrung her hands. “I’m sure you’ll all have great seasons.”
She hadn’t planned to say that, but she’d obviously bitten back the words. She would only see the guys again if she and Blake permanently reconciled. So, he wasn’t being paranoid about this new batch of rigidity. What in the hell had happened?
Jordan smoothed over the awkwardness by pulling her into a bear hug and dipping her, a move he’d apparently learned with Grace, who loved to dance. The guys passed her around, giving her sloppy kisses or tickling her, helping to lighten the tension. When Natalie finally reached Sam, she didn’t move to hug him, and Blake stilled where he was standing.
Sam cocked a brow and simply opened his arms. “Come here, Hale.”
She leaned into him, like she wasn’t going to stay long, but Sam tucked her close. Then he bent his head to whisper something in her ear, and she nodded her head twice and stepped back. Her face seemed paler now, but when he gave his friend a look, Sam only smiled.
There were shadows flickering in Natalie’s eyes as he walked her to the edge of the porch.
“Well, I’ll…see you when you…” She trailed off like the words were too heavy on her tongue.
They hadn’t spent a night apart since he’d come back to her bed in her house, and the possibility of that happening now yawned between them. He saw her glance at the upper story of the house, as if she too were thinking about the fact that she’d never stayed over.
“I won’t be too late,” he made himself say, “if you’re okay with me coming over, I mean. Or you can take Touchdown.”
The dog was snoring on Logan’s lap as the man downed a tequila shot with Jordan. He looked tuckered out from a solid week of playing with the kids at camp.
“I’ll see you then,” she said and took a hesitant step like she was going to lean in and kiss him.