with a man. Years, in fact. There’d been a couple of boyfriends after her divorce, but every time a relationship seemed as if it might take a turn for the serious, Natalie had ended it. She hadn’t been able to bear the thought of falling in love with a man, then telling him she couldn’t have children.
Then she’d adopted one-year-old Mary. After that, she simply hadn’t had time for any other relationships—if anyone had wanted to be with her, which they hadn’t. It wasn’t a myth, that most men viewed single moms as if they had leprosy. But she hadn’t cared. Raising a daughter was completely fulfilling—she hadn’t needed a man in her life, hadn’t even missed having one.
Or maybe she had.
She’d forgotten how good Josh smelled. “Oh, my God.”
“What?”
“You’re wearing Stetson aftershave.”
“I might be.” She heard the grin in his voice.
It was one of the first gifts she’d ever given him, a bottle of Stetson. The smell had seemed incredibly macho to her back when she was seventeen. He’d worn it for her, and it had been a couple of years before he’d been brave enough to tell her he didn’t really like aftershave, that he preferred to smell simply like soap.
Yet he’d worn it tonight. “Is it that same bottle?”
“The old bottle turned to turpentine some years ago. I went out and bought a new one.”
“But you don’t like aftershave.”
“Sure I do.”
No, he most certainly didn’t. His decision to stop wearing it had hurt her feelings, so she darn well remembered it. “Let’s go get something cold to drink.”
On the way back to their table, Bobby Salazar stepped into their path. He stared at them drunkenly. “Thought you two got divorced.”
Josh slapped the other man’s shoulder. “Hey, Bobby. Thought you got sober.”
It took Bobby a moment to process the comment. “Heh, good one.” Then he grinned and staggered off.
“I’m sure we’re confusing a number of people,” Natalie said as they reached their table.
“Yeah, but we won’t see them again for another twenty or so years, so do we care?”
She shrugged. “Not really.”
“I’ll go get us a couple more beers.”
Melissa, of course, made a beeline for Natalie as soon as she was alone. “So, y’all are getting along, it looks like.”
Natalie narrowed her eyes. “You are in so much trouble. You lied to both of us.”
“They were just little white lies. Oh, Nat, you two should be together. I always told you so. Now there’s nothing keeping you apart. He’s been divorced from Beverly for, like, eons, and you’re single.”
“There’s a lot of painful history keeping us apart,” she reminded her friend. “We can’t undo the train wreck we made of our marriage.”
“But you were so young back then. You’d do better now.”
Would they? Certainly she’d matured in the past twenty years. She had mellowed, didn’t see things as black or white anymore.
“We’ve built separate lives,” Natalie said.
“So? You could merge them again. I mean, the issue, the big issue—that’s not even relevant anymore, right?”
She shot Melissa a dangerous look. “Melissa. Stop it.”
Melissa sighed. “You’re missing a great opportunity.”
Josh returned with the beers, which ended that particular conversation. Natalie was hot and thirsty—the old air-conditioning system in the VFW Hall didn’t begin to keep up with the heat, which was why Natalie had worn a sundress and most of the men had removed their jackets and ties, including Josh.
She took a long sip of beer and appreciated how good he looked in a starched white shirt. His chest was so broad now. Nice.
Soon Melissa had them all up and dancing again. This time they were line dancing, so it didn’t seem quite so weird, though Josh was there at her right. When the dance called for them to link up, he slid his arm around her waist, letting his hand stray briefly to her hip.
She felt a jolt of awareness all the way to her toes. “Josh!”
“Sorry.” He didn’t look sorry at all. The funny thing was, Natalie wasn’t sorry, either. Maybe it was the beer or the heat or the adrenaline, but she wanted him to touch her again.
After twenty minutes on the dance floor, Natalie was hot and sweaty and actually having a good time. But she needed some fresh air. When the band took a break, she excused herself to the restroom to brush her hair and reapply her lipstick, then slipped out a side door into the parking lot.
It was early June in Texas, which meant it wasn’t exactly cool. But a breeze was blowing, refreshing her face a bit. She thought about just getting in her car and driving back to Melissa’s house, where she was spending the night. She’d already gotten more than she’d bargained for at this reunion. But she probably shouldn’t drive just yet. Those one-and-a half beers had gone to her head. She would have to wait a couple of hours.
“I wondered where you’d gone to.”
She whirled around, startled. “Josh!”
He slipped an arm around her waist, just like when they’d been dancing. Except this time they were utterly alone and in the dark.
“I’m glad you’re doing so well,” he said. “For years I worried about you, all alone in the big city.”
She forced herself to relax as they naturally fell into a slow walk, heading for an area behind the building where a few picnic tables were scattered under some ancient live oak trees.
“I was never alone. My sister’s in Dallas.” That was why she’d applied to nursing schools there instead of Houston. That, and because she’d wanted to get as far away from Josh as she could, so she wouldn’t be tempted to go back. Ending their marriage had been the most painful decision of her life. She hadn’t wanted to go through it more than once.
“Yeah, but you didn’t have me.”
“Undeniably true. But by some miracle, I muddled through without you. Or any man.”
He took her hand and led her over to the tables, bending down to squint at the top of first one, then another.
“What are you doing?”
“Ah, here it is.” He took his key chain out of his pocket. It had a little LED flashlight attached, and he shined it on the top of the picnic table.
The beam of light illuminated a heart, with the initials J.C. and N.B. enclosed. Josh had carved it into the table when they’d first started dating their junior year. The carving had been painted over many times, but it survived along with about a hundred others.
“Defacing public property. Shame on you.”
“I wanted everyone to know you were mine.” He reached up and smoothed her hair behind her ear. “You haven’t changed. I mean, really. People say that, but you still look just as I remember you. No…better.”
“It’s the soft lighting,” she joked, but inside she was quaking. She couldn’t think clearly when he was touching her. She knew there was a very good reason not to be out here alone with Josh Carlson, but none came to mind. Nothing came to her mind except a hot desire she’d been sure was a part of her adolescent past.
Then he leaned in and kissed her, and she ceased thinking altogether.
Chapter Two
Josh