Kissing Her Crush (8 page)

“You mean the silver Honda with the Hershey High bumper sticker?”

Luke rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah.”

“The one that belongs to my
brother
?”

His hand froze. “Brother? So you’re…”

“I am, or I’m not—whichever.”

“Oh.” Suddenly, he was at a loss. The sickness over potentially—though unknowingly—helping Natalie cheat on her significant other was gone, leaving behind one singular desire. To kiss her.

She must’ve read that in his expression because she held up both hands. “Stop.”

“Stop what?”

“Stop whatever you’re about to do. I see it in your eyes. I feel”—she pressed a hand at the base of her throat—“I feel it in the air. But it can’t happen.”

“You’re single.”

“I might be single, but we talked about this. A lot.
Way
too much.”

Before his sails had fully hoisted, the wind died.

Of course she was right. How many times would he have to be reminded? What was it about this woman that made him a stupid pile of teenage hormones?

“Fine, I’ll stop.” But he couldn’t help staring at her mouth, thinking about her mouth. She couldn’t stop his thoughts, could she? He took a full step back and watched while she finished blending the liquid mixture with the Amazonian cocoa. The way she adjusted her gloves and pushed up her goggles should not have been so alluring.

“Those are the molds there,” she said, snapping him awake. “Could you put them on this counter?”

Luke obeyed, happy she was letting him help, even in this small way.

“Grab two of those measuring spoons over there. The tablespoon size. Fill the molds on your pan with a full scoop. Make sure it’s level.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

She rolled her eyes.

“What? It’s
candy
making.”

“It’s
chemistry
. And it’s extremely precise.”

“Okay, okay.” He handed her a measuring spoon. “I’ll watch you do one first so I won’t screw up.”

Natalie mumbled something under her breath, and Luke could’ve sworn he heard the word smartass preceded by a highly impressive curse. He was dying to kiss that dirty mouth now.

By the time he’d finished with his pan, Natalie had filled the other five. Man, she was fast. And while he’d made a huge mess, her chocolate had made it into the molds and not a single drop anywhere else. Well, he was a newbie while she’d been doing this for years.

They lined up the pans.

“So, if I understand correctly,” Luke said, “we wait three hours for them to set.” He peeled off his gloves. “You know what they say about how a watched pot never boils. We should grab dinner while we can.”

“It’s after ten, the only thing open this late is McDonalds, and I know you’re against that.”

He laughed. “True.”

She rubbed a hand over her stomach, unknowingly drawing Luke’s attention to more of those sexy curves. “I am hungry, but I don’t have much at home.”

“We’ll go to my place,” he offered. “I’ll whip up something both nutritious and full of healthful calories to keep us energized.”

“That’d be great. I didn’t consider going without food all night when I adjusted the schedule.”

She began unbuttoning her lab coat. It wasn’t exactly a striptease, but to Luke’s eyes, that coat had been as impeding as lead to Superman’s x-ray vision. Underneath, she wore a long-sleeved T-shirt, the front tucked into a pair of jeans that were created solely to mold to her body.

“You can’t think of everything all the time, right?” he sputtered. “Let’s go. It’s kind of a drive up the hill.”

Natalie stopped in her tracks. “When you said your place, you meant…”

“Sorry, yes, my parents’ house.”

She remained frozen in front of the laundry chute. Did she look…nervous?

“I’ve never been to that house. It’s a mansion, though, right? I mean, technically because of the size.”

“Um.” He rubbed the back of his neck. This was why he used to resent being a part of the Elliott legacy. His name and that stupid house were intimidating by reputation alone. He thought after moving away he’d never have to deal with that again. But here was Natalie, clearly daunted.

“I suppose it’s one of the bigger houses in Derry Township, but I don’t think of it that way. It’s where I grew up. Nothing special.”

This was a major stretch, but the thought of Natalie not coming home with him made him severely unhappy.

“I’m sure everyone is asleep by now,” he added. “We’ll hang in the kitchen. I make a mean omelet.”

“Well.” She shifted her stance. “I guess that’s okay.”

The second she agreed, a weight lifted off Luke’s shoulders that he hadn’t known he’d been carrying.

Chapter Seven

T
his was a bad idea. It was hard enough for Natalie to be alone with him in the lab, what with his gorgeous face not being hidden in a paper bag like he’d promised. She’d never sparred so much with a guy before. She was at her sassiest with Luke, and she could tell he liked that about her.

Which was getting in the way of work—as she had to tell herself whenever he’d scratch his jaw or run a hand through that dark, wavy hair, looking all hot and whatever.

For most of the drive across town, they chatted about meaningless subjects. Not until they turned to head up Derry Woods Hill did Natalie feel a pang of distress. She’d been on this road a few times, but never on the path at the very top of the hill where the Elliott estate loomed.

Oh, she’d seen the house from afar but never had a reason to get close, aside from her curiosity to see the home where her crush lived. It was dark, and besides the dots of light shining from various front porches way back from the road, only Luke’s headlights lit up the night.

When he shifted into second gear to make a turn, Natalie clutched her seatbelt. Luke shot her a glance. “You okay?”

“Sure,” she said in a squeaky voice.
Calm down, it’s just the house of a work colleague. You don’t have a crush on him now, so take a breath. Dinner. That’s all this is
.

“Don’t tell me you’re afraid of old, secluded homes built deep in the woods.”

“N-no.”

“Good.” He slowed down, went into first gear, then headed up a steep driveway lit on either side by gas lamps. The place was illuminated like a castle on a hill—which, it kind of was. It was three stories, no, four. Or five? Did those watch towers count?

“Damn,” Luke muttered. “So much for them being asleep. Every light in the house is on.”

Natalie’s stomach tightened. Since when was she so chicken? Yeah, sure, besides Hershey, the Elliotts were the most influential family in town, but did she have to grip the sides of her seat like she was about to make the free-fall without a harness?

“We can go somewhere else if you want,” she said. Like a coward.

“No, it’s fine.” He parked behind three shiny cars. One had a New York license plate. Was one of Luke’s other brothers home? Or Roxanne? Last she’d heard, the only Elliott daughter was finishing college in New Jersey.

Luke was already climbing out, so Natalie took a stabilizing breath and joined him on the path up seven stone steps to the porch. After another breath, she felt only slightly terrified, which was ridiculous. She was a grown woman, head of a research project at Hershey Medical Center, and yet she felt fourteen and as out of place in her jeans, T-shirt, and pink trainers as a clown at Windsor Castle.

Luke waited on the top step. “You look pale.”

“I believe in sunscreen.”

He chuckled. “I was joking earlier about the house being secluded.” He pointed past her shoulder. “We’re surrounded by neighbors. Though once I have you inside, the walls are thick. You’ll have to scream really loud for anyone to hear.”

“Funny.” She rolled her eyes, his joke relaxing her as they walked inside.

Crap, man, the place was massive. The entryway had a vaulted ceiling that shot four stories up. The landing of each level looked down to where they stood, like a ski lodge in Aspen. Also similar to a ski lodge, the front of the house had huge windows of varying shapes. She could only imagine what the view must be like from the top landing.

“Kitchen’s this way,” Luke said, his hand touching her shoulder then skimming to the small of her back. “But I’m afraid that has to wait.” He steered her in the opposite direction, and into a dimly lit living room surprisingly sparse of furniture. Just a large off-white sectional, that would probably fill her entire apartment, a coffee table, and two overstuffed armchairs. Three bodies sprawled across different sections of the couch, all facing a TV screen showing…
The Walking Dead
?

“Dad,” Luke said. No one moved. “Mom.” Not even a blink. Luke stood right in front of the TV. “Hello? Anyone awake?”

“Move,” ordered a voice from behind a stack of pillows. “The governor’s about to get it.”

“Hush!” a female voice said. “What did I tell you about spoilers, Dex?”

“Sorry, Mom.”

“It’s like
Breaking Bad
all over again.” Mrs. Elliott was stretched out on the chaise lounge part of the sectional, a bowl of popcorn by her bare feet.

“Dexter,” Luke said. “The remote is right there, would you pause it for two seconds?”

After a sigh, Dexter lazily lifted the remote and paused the show. “This better be good.”

“Um, yeah,” Luke said. “We’re pulling an all-nighter but stopped in to grab a bite.”

“An all-nighter?” Dexter laughed. “Sounds like you…” The second he caught sight of Natalie, he shot into a sitting position. “Whoa, shit.”

“Language,” Mrs. Elliott said.

“But shit, Mom, look.”

“You heard your mother,” chimed in an authoritative voice seated in one of the recliners.

The room illuminated as Dexter turned on a tableside lamp. “See?” When her eyes adjusted, Natalie saw Dexter pointing straight at her.

Mrs. Elliott gracefully tilted her chin to look over the back of the couch. When she met Natalie’s eyes, she too sat up, then slid off the chaise. Natalie hadn’t seen her in a few years. She wore dark blue stretchy jeans and a man’s button down shirt that—judging by the oversize fit—was most likely her husband’s. Even though both articles of clothing were probably designer, she also had charming bed head, and housed a few stray kernels of popcorn in her dark hair. “Luke didn’t tell us he was bringing someone home,” she said.

“I didn’t
bring
…” Luke sighed. “Forget it.”

“How do you do,” Mr. Elliott said, walking over to them. “I’m Braxton.” Natalie knew who he was. Everyone in Hershey knew who he was.

“Natalie Holden,” she replied, shaking his hand.

“This is my wife, Eileen.”

“Delighted,” Mrs. Elliott said. “And this is Dexter.”

“Hey-o.” He wore a grin as he sidled up to Natalie. A younger version of Luke, Dexter’s eyes shot from her to Luke then back to her. “You said you’re pulling an all-nighter, huh?”

Luke crossed his arms and glared at his brother. “For
work
,” he uttered between his teeth.

Dexter’s gaze returned to Natalie. “This is her? Your hottie boss who yelled at you?”

“She’s not my boss.”

“When did I yell at you?”

Luke knocked her shoulder playfully. “When
don’t
you?”

Natalie laughed, though she hadn’t missed that Luke had described her to his brother as a hottie. The sixteen-year-old in her might’ve just suffered a fainting spell. But…what else had Luke told him? Did Dexter know about the broken park ride? Did his parents know? She felt a raging blush coming on and wondered if they’d think she was crazy if she made a lunge to turn off the lamp so no one would see it.

“You two work together?” Mr. Elliott asked. “You’re heading the research trial at the med center?”

“You brought him home,” Mrs. Elliott added, staring starry-eyed at her.

Natalie didn’t know which to address first, so she said, “I, um, yes. Though I didn’t ask for Luke specifically.” She was about to continue that she hadn’t asked for an NIH proctor at all when Mrs. Elliott cut her off.

“Luke hasn’t been home for more than a weekend in years.”

“Mom,” Luke said. “It’s a job, it could’ve been anywhere.”

“Oh, hush.” She batted the air in front of his face. “And it’s so wonderful that he brought you here to meet us.”

“I didn’t—” One withering glance from his mother made Luke shut his mouth and roll his eyes good-naturedly. Maybe his family wasn’t scary after all.

“Are you connected to Holden Farms in Intercourse?” his dad asked.

“That’s my father. It’s where I grew up.”

“Well.” Mr. Elliott slid his hands in his pockets and leaned back in the same way Luke did. “I’d love to meet him. I’m a big fan.”

Natalie felt her eyebrows lift. “Really?”

“I’m just…” Mrs. Elliott put a hand over her mouth. “I’m just so happy about all of this.”

“All of…” Natalie began, but before she finished, Dexter took her elbow and was ushering her and Luke away.

“These guys don’t have time to chat; they’re in a time crunch,” Dexter said over his shoulder. “Didn’t you say it’s a quick break from work?”

“Yeah—yes,” Luke said, sounding overly apologetic. “Necessary sustenance then straight back to the lab.”

Dexter had nearly pushed them all the way out of the room.

“Oh, well, it was lovely meeting you, Natalie, dear,” Mrs. Elliott called, waving her fingers.

“Nice to meet you, too—both of you.”

Taking over for Dexter, Luke grabbed her hand, tugging her down a hall and into the kitchen.

“Dude,” Dexter said, staring at his brother while braced against the kitchen island. “Don’t
do
that.”

Luke dropped his chin and his shoulders relaxed as he exhaled. “I know.”

“Mom was two seconds from—”

“I
know
.”

“You’re lucky I was here.”

Luke rounded his lips and blew out another long breath. “Dude, thanks for that.”

“You owe me.” Dexter’s eyes slid to Natalie. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

Maybe because she hadn’t understood a thing about what just happened, she felt her cheeks prickle again and willed the blush to stay away. “Have you?”

“Yep.”

“Don’t be a dickweed,” Luke said. “He’s just giving you crap. He knows nothing, I swear.”

Dexter laughed and tapped his chin. “Well now, I
was
talking crap, but that was before I knew there was something to know.”

“Drop it,” Luke muttered, a warning in his voice.

Dexter lifted both hands in surrender. “Fine, whatever, it’s dropped. So, what are you guys doing here so late?”

“I told you, we’re working all night but want food.”

“Food, uh-huh.”

“You’re an idiot.”

“It’s my fault,” Natalie cut in before the brothers threw down. “Our days in the lab got slashed, so I’m being a slave driver.”

“My brother’s a very hard worker. Ask anyone. I’ll give you a list.”

“Just…shut up,” Luke said, punching Dexter’s arm.

“Fine, I’ll leave you to your all-nighter.” He rubbed his arm and turned to Natalie. “It was a great pleasure to formally meet you.” Just like his father, he held out his hand for her to shake. It was warm and strong, friendly. In fact, everything about the Elliotts had been extremely friendly. Why had she always been so in awe?

When she noticed half of one wall of the kitchen was floor-to-ceiling windows looking out over the lights of Hershey, she remembered why.

“Well, that was fun,” Luke said when they were alone.

“Barrel of monkeys,” Natalie replied.

“Sass,” he said under his breath, as he opened the refrigerator. “Omelet still sound good?”

“Sure. Can I help?”

“No, you can sit.” He pointed to a bar stool at the island. “You’ve been in charge of food all night. It’s my turn.”

She smiled and sat, more than happy to be taken care of for a change—if only for one meal. “What was with all that ‘dude, don’t
do
that,’ half sentence brother lingo with Dexter?”

Luke cracked six eggs into a mixing bowl and started to whisk. “When it comes to the marital status of their offspring, our parents are very…eager.”

“They seem down to earth,” Natalie said, unable to sit there and not help. While Luke whisked the eggs, she added milk and threw in some grated cheese. “I’d never picture them as fans of
The Walking Dead
.”

“Why not?”

“It seems too…normal.”

Luke stopped whisking and looked up. “We’re as normal as anyone. I know they’ve got this big house up here like some freaking monument, but that doesn’t mean we’re untouchable.”

Natalie knew for a fact just how touchable Luke was. She couldn’t stop her gaze from sliding over the muscles of his arms, up his chest and neck, to his face.

The way he was looking back at her gave her the overwhelming desire to bite her bottom lip and let the chips fall where they may.

But that was asking for trouble.

“So, back to what Dexter was saying?”

“Dex, right.” Luke took a step away from the counter and sucked in a breath, running a hand up the back of his head. “My parents come from a long line of Massachusetts families dating back to the Plymouth Rock. A whole lot of
wasps
in the bloodline, couples that stayed together when they had no functioning marriage to speak of. Even in the twenty-first century, my divorce threw my parents for a loop. It killed them, actually.”

Natalie nodded, while her heart twisted into a little knot.

“The divorce was finalized two years ago, but it’s longer than that since my ex and I separated. Our marriage was over, but some of that
wasp
fortitude was in me because I kept hoping we could work it out.” He paused and looked across the room, his expression showing weariness, leftover defeat. “But when trust is broken and there’s no love to speak of on either side, what’s the point?”

Even with the Hershey grapevine, Natalie couldn’t remember hearing why Luke had gotten divorced. Maybe she had heard the why, but ever since graduation, she’d made herself stop thinking about him. Her feelings had been self-strangled—dead.

Until six days ago.

“I’m sorry.”

A corner of his mouth formed into a non-happy half smile. “Thanks.”

“When you thought I had a boyfriend, you mentioned something about how easy it happens. Were you talking about…” She let the sentence fade.

Luke flipped their omelet with more force than necessary. “Yeah, that’s what I meant.”

So, she’d cheated on him. Luke’s ex-wife had broken their marriage vows and hooked up with someone else, destroying their life together. The thought made her sick.

“And then we…in the tunnel… And you thought I had a boyfriend afterward.” She felt even sicker. When he still wouldn’t look at her, she pried his hand off the handle, shut off the burner, and pushed the pan off the heat. “Luke.” She turned him so he faced her. “I’m sorry.”