Page 80 of Sleigh Bells and Snowstorms
Natalie smiled. I returned it, but it wasn’t real. There was no familiarity in mine. I’d given the same look to dozens of people over the years, and nearly all of them believed it.
She didn’t. That woman could see right through me.
“Sorry if you were busy,” she said, her smile fading. “We’re going to Christmas Village to get a tree, and I thought you might want to come.”
Christmas tree shopping with Natalie and her family. Yet another thing that was not me enjoying the company of a beautiful woman. It was over the line.
“I’m afraid not,” I said. “I have things I have to see to this afternoon.”
“Yeah, of course.” Her eyebrows drew in, even as she kept her tone light. “No big deal. I assume we’re not going after Julian tonight, so it’s fine if I’m gone.”
“Right, I won’t be needing you tonight. I need time to solidify the plan.”
The flash of disappointment that crossed her features dug the barb deeper into my chest like a giant, rusty fishhook.
“I’ll leave you to it, then.” She turned and started back down the stairs.
I wanted to say something else, but everything fell flat.
Text me when you’re back, and I’ll ravage you again.
Idiotic. She wasn’t a toy I could take out when I wanted and put away when I was finished with her.
Pick out the biggest tree, and I’ll pay for it.
Even worse. I couldn’t buy her affection. Or her forgiveness.
She reached the bottom of the stairs, and I still stood in the cold air. The snowfall had slowed, but small flakes drifted from the low-hanging clouds.
I wish I were the man who could give you what you need.
It would have been the honest response. But I couldn’t make myself say it.
Without looking back at me, she crossed to her house and went inside.
Clutching my chest, I stepped back into the flat and closed the door. What was happening to me? Was I having a heart attack?
I staggered to the bedroom and, with a groan, fell face-first onto the bed.
Half an hour later, I hadn’t moved. It was ridiculous. Idiotic. I was lying on the bed like a dramatic child. Like a man who couldn’t handle himself.
I was Jensen Lakes. I could handle anything.
Even this.
Pulling myself together, I stood and straightened my shirt. I stepped into the bathroom to use the mirror and fixed my hair. Dressed in a flannel and jeans, I didn’t exactly look like myself. Or maybe I looked more like myself than I ever had.
I checked every persona I’d ever used at the door and strode out to my car, calm and confident. I liked Natalie Thatcher. More than I’d ever liked anyone. I was in uncharted territory. But I lived for adventure. And what could be more adventurous than following my heart?
Which meant the line I’d drawn in the sand of my life could go fuck itself.
CHAPTER 21
Natalie
Why were we wandering around the shops at Christmas Village? It wasn’t like we could afford anything.
I stood in one of the small stores, my arms crossed, half glaring at a display tree filled with wooden ornaments. Little trees, chestnuts, squirrels, stockings, bears. Some had red buffalo-plaid bows tied on top. Others had the year or cheerful Christmas greetings.
