Page 152 of Small Town Firsts

“Come in,” I call out, my voice deeper than usual.

She steps through the door, smiling bright, and it’s like a shot to my gut.She’s so damn beautiful.“Having a good day?”

I nod. “How about you?”

“Yeah, um, yes.” I smile at her rambling. I can’t put my finger on it, but I like the way I make her nervous.

“I’m not gonna beat around the bush here, Nat. Your schedule is going to have to change—but only a little and only temporarily.”

“Change how?” she asks, sounding mildly irritated.

“I’m going to need you to close at least one night a week.”

She blinks at me. “That’s it?”

“That’s it. I was thinking Wednesdays?”

“That’s actually perfect. I have online classes on Tuesday and Thursday nights—well, I mean, those are the days I set aside for it—but Nate is off early on Wednesdays, so he should be able to get Tatum.”

I nod like this is all news to me, when really, I chatted with Nate a few times to make sure everything would work.But what she doesn’t know won’t hurt her, right?

“Oh! Wait,” she murmurs. “I guess I should actually ask Nate first. Is that…is that okay?”

“Of course, Natalie. Why don’t you go ahead and give him a call?”

“My phone’s in my purse in my locker, since I’m on the clock. May I?” She glances down at the office phone sitting in the cradle; I lift it and slide it her way, flipping open my laptop to give her a little privacy to call her brother. Thankfully, he answers, and like I knew he would, he tells her he is absolutely fine with picking up Tatum on Wednesdays. She breaks out into a brilliant smile and thanks him. She’s in the process of saying goodbye when her brow quirks.

“Uh, well. Um.” Her words stop, and she listens for another beat. “That’s j-just really short notice, Nate. I’m not sure I’ll be able to get a sitter.”

A quick glance her way shows me she’s nervously wringing her fingers in her lap. Obviously, I can’t hear his side of things, but she follows up whatever he says with, “Oh, are you sure? I…I guess that’ll work. I’ll see you then.”

She ends their call and places the phone on my desk. “We’re good to go, and apparently Tatum and I will s-see you at Nate’s this weekend!”

“Glad to hear it,” I tell her, leaving her to assume I’m referring to Wednesdays, when really, it’s the thought of seeing her two weekends in a row out of work that’s got me feeling some kind of way.

CHAPTER 12

NATALIE

When Nate asked—no,demanded—that I come out to his place tonight for Alden’s welcome home party, my insides basically melted like an ice cream cone—a freaking emotional ice cream cone—on a hot, summer day. And now that sticky, feely-feels mess has me cycling through a riotous mass of emotions. At the forefront of them all is apprehension.

Coupled with a whole lot of reluctance.

Followed by a healthy dose of hesitation.

Pretty much, I’m nervous as fuck and have transformed into even more of a hot mess than usual. Which is saying a lot, because most days I feel lucky to leave the house in one piece. I was such a wreck heading into work this morning that even my mom picked up on it when I dropped Tatum off with her. I could tell from the major side-eye that she wanted to ask what had me wound so tight, but mercifully, she didn’t.

I managed to calm down a little when I realized Alden wasn’t there, but still, every worst-case scenario raced through my mind all day, leading me to make simple mistakes and mess up some orders. Finally, after the lunch rush, Carlos cut me early, and I rushed to pick up my little girl, seeking the comfort only her sweet toddler scent and cuddles can give me.

After eating a snack, we watchedTrolls—again—before taking a nap together in my bed. Well, Tatum took a nap. I laid there and worried.

I mean, what if Tatum doesn’t like him? Hell, what if he doesn’t like her, because,holy shit, I don’t even know if he likes kids, much less wants one!

That would certainly make telling him the truth a whole lot harder. It wouldn’t stop me—made that mistake already—butgah,it would suck. At this point, my biggest concern is panicking and spilling the truth at his feet in front of everyone in some horrible nerve-induced word vomit.

I’m in the kitchen starting an early dinner—because Nate’s food is rarely edible—when Tatum yells out for me from somewhere in the apartment.

That’s her new thing. Hollering loudly enough for me to hear her instead of stopping what she’s doing and coming to speak to me. I’ve told her countless times that’s not how we talk to people. So, instead of replying, I go on about my business as if I hadn’t heard her at all.Mean, maybe. But…

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