Kissing Her Crush (3 page)

Damn. He’d done it.

But how could he not? She was incredibly cute—no denying that, and she made him laugh. She was open and enchanting, yet with something mysterious and held back. It made the academic in him curious, and the rule-follower forgetful.

But Natalie didn’t reply, didn’t even look at him as a few long moments ticked by. His “inner security” was about to take a hit.

“I’m free tomorrow,” she finally said, sliding her gaze to his. “Or maybe…”

“Maybe?”

She tugged a strand of her long blonde hair. “Do you have your guitar with you now?”

Warmth—that had nothing to do with teenage gratitude—gathered in Luke’s chest like tropical storm clouds. “It’s in my car,” he said. “Should we…” He made a check motion in the air with one finger.

When she smiled, not only did her dimple show, but her whole face lit up.

It had been a while, but Luke felt lit-up, too. She might not be his type, but Natalie sure as hell could distract him from stressing about work for a while.

His mind skipped from strumming his guitar for her to strumming his fingers across her cheek then into her hair, down her…

Suddenly, he had to keep his mind as well as his hands occupied. “Enough about me. We’re here for you. A toast.” He held up his half-empty glass. “Though it’s belated, sorry.”

“I appreciate the thought.” She tilted her glass toward his.

“Here’s to…wait, you haven’t told me what we’re celebrating.”

“A research project I put together finally got funding for a pre-clinical trial,” she said. Luke caught the appealing twinkle of pride in her eyes. “We start next week.”

“Congratulations. What kind of research?”

“I guess you’d call it a supplement. In layman’s terms, the idea is to insert my serum into chocolate and gauge its stimulants on the brain.”

Huh. That sounds vaguely fam—

The glass in his hand slipped an inch. “What control group?”

“Teenagers suffering from depression. I was contacted a few weeks ago that we were awarded a seed grant. It won’t be enough for phase two, but it’s a start. I didn’t find out until today that the foundation giving us the grant booked the lab for next week. It’s either now or they’ll give the money to someone else.”

Luke felt himself nod stiffly.

“Anyway, we’re a pretty unorthodox team. Just me, another chemist from Hershey, two medical interns from the university, and…” She paused to roll her eyes. “Apparently the NIH is sending a microbiologist to proctor the whole thing. Like the feds want to cover their asses before approving a grant—which I get, but it’s a pain. The proctor’s probably some new-age health flunky they dug up.”

Before unhinging his jaw, he took a breath, then calmly rested his palms on the table. “Flunky?” he repeated. “Why do you say that?”

“For one thing, I don’t think it’s common for the National Institutes of Health to bother proctoring tiny projects like ours. It puts the spotlight directly on us, and I’m already under enough pressure. But it’s as though the guy lobbied to be added to the team, like he has a grudge against the project.” She shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe he’s not a flunky, but a vegan who’s never had a bite of chocolate his whole life.”

“Or maybe he’s someone who champions healthy living.”

“Yeah.” She snorted. “Like I said, new-age.”

If that snort hadn’t been so adorable, Luke might’ve been insulted. “First of all, my specialty in holistic medicine for mood disorders makes me more than qualified,” he said. “Second, the NIH promotes the absolute importance of proper diet, especially in those whose brains are still developing and susceptible to foreign stimuli.”

Natalie was staring at him, her glass still outstretched in mid-toast.

“And third, I’m not a vegan.”

Chapter Two

T
he meaning of his words didn’t register in Natalie’s brain at first. Then the truth released like a mental dam had burst. She lowered her glass, not about to toast her success with the enemy.

“
You’re
the flunky?”

“No, I’m a specialist.” Luke’s expression didn’t change. “But you’re right about the NIH. They won’t give you a dime if they don’t see the importance of your study.”

Just then, Roy came whizzing by with their check. When Natalie reached for it, Luke slid it away. “It’s on me.”

“Thanks,” she muttered, suddenly too annoyed—or disappointed or
something—
to be grateful. “What are you, some kind of sugar Nazi?”

“That’s one way of putting it.”

“So I’m assuming dessert is out.”

Luke was stuffing bills into the leather folder, but Natalie could swear he was smirking. “If you want to fill your body with pollutants, go for it.”

Natalie huffed. “Says the NIH.”

“Wait.” He closed the check booklet and looked at her. “You’re angry about this?”

Before replying, she managed to reign in her temper. “Frustrated, not angry. This trial is really important to me, and it’s already being messed with before day one.”

“Not by me.”

She exhaled slowly and gripped the sides of the table. “Look, I’m not angry with you. We should drop it. Thanks for dinner. It was nice to catch up.” She scooted back her chair and stood, regret mixing with relief as she glanced down at his dreamy, chiseled face.

At least she wouldn’t have to worry about more of those old feelings resurfacing—the awkwardness and crippling inadequacy. She’d always sensed Luke Elliott thought she wasn’t good enough for him. Now, it wouldn’t matter. She was romantically distraction-free once again, just the way she liked it.

Luke was still seated when she left him and walked to the exit. But by the time she’d made it to the parking lot, he was right behind her, calling for her to wait. She tried to ignore how hearing him say her name, her correct name, made her stomach flip.

“Wait for what?” she said, turning around. Dammit. His eyes were even bluer under natural light.

“I thought…” Luke began, “you wanted to see my guitar.” He nodded toward a black ragtop Jeep a few spaces away.

Of course he drives something panty-droppingly sexy like that.

“I don’t believe this,” she muttered.

“It’s fine if you changed your mind. I can handle rejection.”

Of course, he could. So then why was Natalie the one feeling rejected—just like when they were kids? “You haven’t been exactly truthful, have you?”

“How so?”

“You
just happened
to run into me after ten years, and
just happened
to be assigned to my research team.” She couldn’t stand the idea of being misled about something to do with work. Not for a second time. She planted her hands on her hips. “And since when is a starving musician also a microbiologist?”

“Since it’s what I studied in grad school.”

Why hadn’t she heard about that? Stupid unreliable grapevine.

“And I never said I was a starving musician.”

“What was all that open-mike talk?” she asked, trying to ignore the way his blue eyes fixed on her.

“I still do that, or used to.”

“And wanting to play for me.”

“The offer stands.”

Seriously?
“Don’t you think that’s a bad idea? It’s an ethical conflict.”

Luke opened his mouth but then shut it. “Yes, it’s a conflict,” he finally agreed. “I’m here to represent the NIH, but that doesn’t mean we’re automatically on opposing sides.”

“I don’t see it that way.”

“Look, I didn’t…” He ran a hand though his hair, giving him that sexy disheveled look. Like she really needed him to be any sexier while she was trying to stay focused. “I didn’t know you were heading this trial. Hell, I haven’t seen you since high school, Natalie.”

“
Nicole
, you mean.”

Luke looked at her, then down at the ground while blowing out a breath. It made her smile to know she’d needled him.

“That was a mistake, and I apologized,” he said, back to Joe Cool.

“I just don’t understand,” she said. “The Baldwin Foundation already approved their grant. Why does the NIH care at this point?”

“They hired me to gatekeep any future grants they might award you,” he said, being furiously logical. “I’m not a fed, but helping kids get healthy and happy
naturally
is important to me.”

“Me, too!”

He crossed his arms. “I guess we have different views about how that’s done.”

“You can say that again.” She’d had enough and turned to leave. But when she swung around, one strap of her purse fell off her shoulder, causing half the contents to spill onto the parking lot. “Great,” she muttered.

Luke kneeled to pick up miscellaneous pens and lip-glosses before she could stop him.

“I got this,” she said, crouching down, probably most inelegantly. But what did she care how she looked to Luke now? She couldn’t count the ways this guy was off-limits.

“Here.” He passed over her compact mirror and a few crumpled Mr. Goodbar wrappers. “And this.” He held the travel-sized bottle of her Pink Macaroon perfume. “Nice.” He waved it under his nose. “Sexy.” When she growled and grabbed for it, Luke actually laughed. “If it makes you feel better, I’m only on your team to observe and give my opinion when necessary.”

Natalie reached for more of her fallen stuff and crammed it in her purse. “I don’t need a babysitter. I need carte blanche. With lab space for only three weeks, I won’t be able to have that with the NIH’s spy breathing down my neck.”

A little breeze picked up, scattering stray wrappers around their feet. Luke moved to gather them. “I’m not a spy,” he said, as he bumped into her back. “But if the NIH wants me to breathe down your neck, Natalie, you’ll learn to like it.”

He was behind her, close enough that she felt the warmth of his body, causing her traitorous temperature to rise.

“I’m practically breathing down your neck right now,” he added in a low voice. “You don’t seem to have a problem with it.”

Natalie couldn’t stop more heat from spreading across her cheeks, under her hair. She had to nip this thing in the bud, so she rotated around, her lips peeling apart to say something back. To shut him up. But his face was so close to hers. She could see the notch between his eyes, the light scar that ran along his left temple, the sexy way his mouth curved.

Her pulse galloped, sending out a warning that she was about to make a very unwise decision…

“Nat? What are you doing?”

Natalie sucked in a gasp and knocked her head against Luke’s when she saw her mother staring at them. “Mom. Hi.” She straightened, hoping her face wasn’t as flushed as it felt.

“Did you just get here, too?” her dad asked, then glanced at Luke. “Hello there.”

“He was just leaving,” Natalie cut in, shooting Luke a blatant go-away glare.

He didn’t react at first, but then nodded. “See you Monday.”

She watched his butt—for just a second—as he walked toward the Jeep, solely to make sure he was really leaving.

“Who was that?” Mom asked. “Cute and tall.”

“
That
”
—
Natalie paused to sigh—“is living proof karma is a bitch.”

“Don’t say that word, dear. And who’s Carmen?”

“Never mind, Mom.” She laughed under her breath. “You guys were late so I already ate. Let’s go back to the house. Will you drive and I’ll leave my car here?” She peered behind them. “Where’s Muff?”

Her parents glanced at each other.

“Your brother didn’t want to come,” Dad said. “He wasn’t up to leaving his room.”

Natalie’s heart sank like a stone thrown in a pond. She loved her little brother more than anything, and his illness rendered her helpless. “Did something happen?”

Mom shrugged as they walked to their car. “Not that we know of. With Brandon, sometimes there’s no rhyme or reason. That’s what his doctor says.”

Natalie nodded, feeling even more helpless.

Dad didn’t hold Mom’s door open. The kind little gestures Natalie used to notice between them had disappeared. And they might never return. Her parents had been through hell—were still in hell. Natalie knew darn well that a high percentage of couples in their situation split up for good. At least her parents were still together, still trying.

“What’s your big news?” Mom asked as she buckled her seatbelt.

Only this particular subject change could make Natalie’s mood lift like she’d been injected with her own serum. “Mom, Dad, we got the grant.”

They stared at her blankly for a moment, then her mom’s eyes grew wide. “You’re joking.”

Natalie beamed with pride. “Start Monday.”

As they drove to her parents’ neighborhood, she filled them in on the details, though skipping over everything about Luke’s involvement. She hadn’t had enough chocolate to stomach that.

L
uke took the long way through town. Not that he dreaded going home. He just wanted a few extra minutes to think. As he idled at the light on the intersection of Cocoa and Chocolate Avenues, he felt himself smiling. Then he actually laughed out loud.

That Natalie Holden. She was something else. The way her cheeks turned pink then bright red when he unleashed that crack about breathing down her neck. It made him laugh again.

But this laugh was short-lived. Dude, he’d really dodged a bullet there. If he hadn’t asked what she was celebrating, or treated her the same as the other getting-him-over-his-divorce women, Luke would’ve woken up in the morning having made the biggest mistake of his career.

It wasn’t only that hooking up with the head researcher of the trial would be unethical, but at his company—thanks to a major HR shake down—every employee’s personal behavior was under the microscope.

Not to mention the tiny fact that Luke was currently being headhunted by the NIH.

Yes, definitely dodged a bullet.

As he headed up the hill, he saw in the distance that every light in the house was on. He wondered if his parents were hosting a party they didn’t tell him about. Things with his siblings were almost completely smoothed over now, but it had taken longer with his parents. Not that he blamed them for reacting the way they had to the decisions he’d made. At the time, he thought he’d been doing the right thing, going along with Celeste. He’d sided with his wife to make their marriage work. But the repercussions of that decision still weighed heavily on him.

He roared into the driveway and set the parking brake. Probably not a party after all, since there were only two extra cars. One, he knew was as his brother Dexter’s. The other, he didn’t recognize, but when he eyed the license plate, he had a hunch.

“Hey, loser.”

Hunch confirmed.

“Hey, snoozer,” Luke fired back. “What are you doing here?” He walked to the front door where Roxanne stood under the porch light. The top she wore showed too much skin. Luke didn’t like that one bit and still couldn’t wrap his brain around how his baby sister was about to graduate from college.

“Where’ve you been?” Roxy asked.

Luke took the porch steps two at a time. “Again, why are you here?”

“Because I heard
you
were, and I couldn’t stay away.” She waved a dramatic hand in the air, then stepped into Luke’s open arms.

Was she thinner than usual? Her hair was definitely shorter. Wasn’t it? Luke cussed himself out for not keeping in better touch. She probably posted a million pictures on Facebook. He could’ve at least kept tabs on her that way, but after what had happened with Celeste, he’d sworn off social media.

He gave his sister one more squeeze, then stepped back. “You drove all the way from Jersey to see me?” He narrowed his eyes. “Why do I not believe that?”

“Dex is here, too,” Roxy said, walking backward into the house.

“I saw his car. And you got a new Audi? Nice.”

“Dad said it’s an investment, and I didn’t argue.”

“Well played, Sis. Where is everyone?”

“You’ll see.” She leveled her chin and linked an arm through his, leading him into the formal living room, which was strange. That was where the Wedgewood and china was; they never used that room unless…

Luke stopped in place the second they stepped into the room. There they sat, as still as statues, peering at him: his parents and his brother Dexter, looking way too…something. Calm? Creepy? Creepy-calm was a good description.

“Vince and Danny are on Skype,” Roxy said, squishing herself between her parents, looking up at him just as creepily.

Luke waved to the laptop on the coffee table, at his twin brothers’ digital images. They waved back. Their solemn expressions gave nothing away, either.

Cloak-and-dagger behavior wasn’t anything new with his family. Even now, with them all grown and out of the house, he and his brothers usually had some kind of prank war going. Not to mention the bets. Last time he’d lost a bet, he’d found himself on a sailboat bound for Nantucket with only a hotel towel as clothing.

He slid his hands in his pockets, attempting the image of “it’s all good” in case they were trying to rattle him. Despite the creepiness of the scene, it made Luke feel like one of the gang again, as if things were almost back to normal between him and his family.

“Hey, Dex,” he said, bumping his brother’s outstretched fist. “Mom.” He bent down and kissed his mother on the cheek. “Let me guess, this is an intervention.” He was joking, but no one laughed.

“Sit down, son,” his father said, motioning to the armchair.

Luke felt like he’d stepped into a trap instead of a reunion, but since he couldn’t think of any way he’d soiled the family name recently, he sat.

“Eileen,” his dad said to his mother. “Why don’t you start?”

Mom glanced at him nervously and touched the side of her hairdo. “Luke, we love you. You know that, right?”

“Okay…”

“But this simply won’t do.”

Dad folded his arms. “Your mother’s right.”

Luke was completely lost. “Guys, I’m obviously not in on the joke. I have no idea—”