Page 17 of Natalie's Nighthawk

“Really? But I thought you were dating that other girl. What was her name? Kelly? No Callie, right?”

“Laney. Yeah, no. I dumped her.”

“Not surprising.” Graham had been notorious for dating and dumping during high school. “But Natalie wasn’t your usual type back then. Bit of an outsider, wasn’t she?”

“She was,” Graham said with a slight smile remembering Natalie as she was that day, so unlike any of the other girls he’d ever socialized with. Maybe that was why he’d been so fascinated with her then. She was interesting and smart. He’d enjoyed talking with her much more than he’d ever enjoyed talking to the ditzy girls he’d dated in high school. Hair and makeup, who was dating who, that was all they wanted to talk about. It grew tiresome very quickly. But with Natalie, the conversation had been stimulating.

“And you dated her? How did I never know?”

“No,” Graham stated, unable to hide his amusement at his brother’s bewilderment.

“No what?”

“No, we didn’t date.”

David shot him a look of confusion. “I don’t get it. Why do you seem so interested in her now? And that hug you gave her. I’d never seen you so happy to see an old flame before.”

“She’s not an old flame. We just had a nice afternoon together.”

“One afternoon?” Logan wondered, unashamedly eavesdropping.

“Did you sleep with her?” David asked as his eyebrows shot upward.

“Of course not. We just talked.”

“You shared one afternoon together and justtalked?” Graham found it amusing that David was having such a hard time grasping that concept. The brother David had known as a lady’s man in high school, would never have spent an afternoon just talking to a girl.

“Yup,” he answered, failing to stifle his laugh.

“When was this?” David was still trying to understand.

“The day of the tornado.”

“Seriously?”

“What tornado?” Logan asked at the same time.

“The tornado that destroyed our house when we were in high school,” David answered. “Wait. I remember. She was there, wasn’t she? She’s the one you talk about in that interview, isn’t she?”

“She’s the ‘slow your panic’ friend?” Logan was equally as bewildered as David.

“Yup,” Graham answered simply.

“Holy hell!” David cried, grabbing his hat before a gust of wind knocked it off his head.

“Isn’t she an art teacher?” Logan asked.

“Holy hell!” David shouted. “It’s her nighthawk drawing, isn’t it?”

“Yup.”

“Holy hell,” he swore again. “I need to sit down.” He plopped down hard on the bench seat behind him.

Logan shot Graham a look over his shoulder. “You named your company after her drawing?”

“Why?” David still couldn’t understand. No one could understand. Graham could hardly understand most days why one afternoon spent talking to a neighbor changed him so radically. His only answer was the girl herself. She must have been something special back then. Graham wondered if she’d still be just as special today. He was looking forward to exploring that thought further.

Graham shrugged in answer to David’s question. “We talked. She told me a story about nighthawks, and it stuck with me. She stuck with me.”

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