I let out an incredulous huff of air. “Come on, Ash. Love doesn’t work that way. If she wasn’t in love with me then, it’s not going to magically happen.”
He blinked. “Is that really what you think?”
“Of course it is. Don’t you? You’re too smart to believe in fairy tales about long-time friends suddenly ‘falling in love’.” I used air quotes for the last bit, my mouth twisted to show how stupid it was.
“Love can grow. You think Iola was in love with me right away?” Asher shook his head. “First I had to woo her with my charisma and charm.”
I let out a scoffing laugh to show what I thought of his charisma and charm. Then I took a gulp of coffee and waved the cup in his direction. “You just proved my point. You knew Iola for what, two or three weeks before you hooked up? I dated Nat when I was twenty, and she broke up with me. Even if she suddenly decided she felt something for me after all this time, I couldn’t trust those feelings were real.”
Asher picked up his coffee to take another slow sip without giving any sign he agreed. But I didn’t need to spell things out for him. After what we’d been through in Mexico, we understood each other perfectly.
I knew why he’d worked so hard to make lots of money, and he knew why I’d become a chef, and why I donated the proceeds from my cookbooks to a charity that fed disadvantaged kids. We’d both felt the pain of hunger too often, and Mom’s mood swings had decided whether we’d get to eat. She’d only loved us when she felt like it, and there was no way I’d put myself through anything like that again.
When we lived in Mexico, Mom would sometimes call me into her room. “Don’t tell your brothers,” she’d coo. “But Mommy loves her little prince the best. And you love Mommy best too, don’t you?”
At fourteen, I’d been way too old for cutesy nicknames and baby talk. But I’d smiled and hugged Mom back when she wrapped her arms around me. I’d tell her she was the best mother in the world. And even after her drug addiction had hollowed her cheeks and ravaged her skin, I’d still say she was pretty.
When I didn’t, she’d get angry.
Nothing good ever happened when Mom was angry.
But I didn’t like the road my thoughts were headed down. It was too nice a day to take a stroll along Bad Memory Lane.
Draining the last of my coffee, I stood up. “I have to go. Mack’s coming into the café today.” And without waiting for more of my brother’s Asher-style wisdom, I headed out.
It was still early, so I was surprised to find Nat already behind the café's counter, looking fresh and gorgeous in a Mack’s Place T-shirt and jeans. Her hair always started the day tidy, pulled back into a long, sleek ponytail. Over the course of the day it’d slowly loosen, with more and more strands escaping, until eventually she’d look a little wild.
I couldn’t usually decide which version of her I liked more. Sexy and sophisticated Morning-Nat, with a crisp scent of shampoo and a new pen tucked into her apron. Or sexy and adorable Afternoon-Nat, with grease spots on her glasses, the pen misplaced, and heavenly scents of coffee trapped in her hair. But today her smile was brilliant enough to sway my preference toward Morning-Nat.
“Hey, Kade. You’re early.” She bent to pick up an enormous bag of coffee beans and I was transfixed by the way her jeans cradled her incredible ass. In fact, I was so captivated that when she lifted the bag to pour beans into the top of the coffee machine, it took me several moments longer than it should have before I went to help.
Our arms tangled as I took the weight of the heavy bag, and for a moment we were pressed together, Nat’s arms beneath mine, her hip bumping my thigh. I dragged her crisp shampoo scent deep into my lungs and fought against thoughts of backing her against the counter and kissing her senseless.
“You’ve got it?” She tugged her arms free. “Thank you.”
“Don’t mention it.” I concentrated on getting the beans into the machine without spilling them. “It’s the least I can do for my fiancée.”
She gave a nervous laugh, then bit her lip. “You really don’t think anyone’s going to find out?”
Last night I’d reassured her how unlikely it still was that the news of our fake engagement would spread, but she still looked anxious.
“Don’t worry. If they do, we can just pretend to break up. No big deal.” I poured in the last of the beans and took the empty bag into the kitchen to throw it away. Nat trailed after me.
“But won’t it—?”
My phone rang, cutting off whatever she was about to say. When I tugged it from my pocket, the caller display said Billy.
“You sneaky dog,” exclaimed my agent when I answered. “Why the hell didn’t you tell me?”
I frowned. “Tell you what?”
“Last I heard, you were single. Now you’re buying the cow?”
I jerked my face to Nat, a cold feeling of dread spreading through me. “What?”
“You’re getting hitched and you didn’t call me? I have to hear about it online? Come on, Kade. How am I supposed to represent your interests when you don’t let me in on this kind of stuff?”
Nat’s eyes were wide and anxious. I wasn’t sure if she could hear Billy, but she could definitely tell something was wrong.
“What exactly did you hear?” I demanded.
“Hang on, I’ll read it to you.” He paused. “Celebrity chef Kade Lennox is engaged to Natalie Williamson from his home town of San Dante. The two have been working together in Natalie’s family café, Mack’s Place.” He paused again. “There’s a photo of you together. I don’t know what the hell she’s
