he told his kindergarten class that he walked in on mom and dad naked wrestling.”
That made Natalie guffaw. “It’s pretty hilarious when it’s other people’s kids ratting them out.”
“Yeah. Our time will... Oh...my.” Bobbi’s gaze seemed to blur as she gaped in the direction of the front door, and that was when Natalie heard his voice.
Not for the first time.
“Care to help out a man in dire need of some caffeine?”
She couldn’t help it. Natalie turned to take in the ridiculous male glory that was Paddy Hurley. In jeans and a T-shirt, he still looked like a rock star. Though she’d seen him naked, and he looked like a rock star then, too. His dark brown hair had lightened up, probably from being out in the sunshine. He’d put his sunglasses on top of his head, so those big hazel eyes fringed by gorgeous, thick sooty lashes had extra impact.
Impact that made Natalie’s heart beat faster and her face warm as she remembered some of the things they’d done together. To each other. Dirty, filthy, naked things. Really good things the mere memory of had her libido sitting up and panting over.
Bobbi was entranced by him as she stood at the counter, blinking slowly, clearly caught up in her admiration. He kept smiling, as if he was totally used to that sort of attention. Of course he was.
“Can I get an iced coffee and a slice of that blueberry loaf for here?” He changed his tone a little from that flirty drawl to something more direct, and it seemed to do the trick.
Bobbi stood a little taller and cleared her throat. “Uh. Yeah. Sorry. Yes, of course.”
“Thanks.” He grinned, all white teeth and work-in-the-sun glow. Good God, he was beautiful.
“I’ll bring it out when I’m done.” Bobbi got to work but waggled her brows at Natalie, mouthing holy shit, it’s Paddy Hurley.
Natalie tried to turn quickly and make an exit, but he’d caught the direction of Bobbi’s look, and she saw the moment he recognized her, too.
“Hey, there. Wow.” He searched for her name, which was what allowed her to pull her mask on and pretend she had no idea who he was.
“Hello.” She turned to Bobbi. “See you tomorrow!” Natalie put the lid back on her cup and gathered her things, but Paddy stepped closer.
“Natalie, right? You worked at that dive bar attached to the bowling alley near Portland.”
A lifetime before.
“Sorry?” She cocked her head as if she had no idea he was talking about the two weeks they’d spent nailing each other as though sex was going to be outlawed any moment.
“It’s Paddy Hurley. I’d know that mouth anywhere.” He said it quietly. Enough that she appreciated his discretion.
That Natalie stayed in the dive bar. The Natalie she was now had risen from the ashes while she was in college, and she rarely looked back if she could help it. Paddy Hurley and those two weeks they’d shared were a great memory, especially the naked part. But she’d spent too many years and a whole lot of effort to be more and had no desire to go digging up that lifetime again.
“Nice to meet you, Paddy. I enjoy your music. I need to be on my way.” She reached for the door, and he searched her features and shook his head as if he couldn’t believe what was happening. Which was sort of charming, and she had to remind her hormones sternly to back off and let her brain do the work.
But he rallied. “I know it’s you. Stay and have coffee with me so we can catch up.”
“I have to get to work.” She opened the door, nudging him out of the way a little as she did. The heat of the day greeted her, and she stepped out, covered her eyes with her shades and walked away.
The past was the past. She had a life now. One she’d spent a lot of time and energy building, and she needed to keep the door on who she’d once been firmly closed.
Even if it left a tasty bit like Paddy Hurley on the other side.
* * *
PADDY WATCHED HER retreat down the sidewalk, the hem of her skirt swishing back and forth, exposing the backs of her thighs. Thighs that had been wrapped around his hips more than once.
She had tattoos, matching ones, at the top of each thigh, right under each ass cheek. Pretty red bows like at the top of stockings. He smiled at that memory.
“Her name is Natalie, right?” he asked the barista when she brought him the coffee and pastry.
“Yeah. You know her?”
“She lives here in town?” He sipped his drink. He and his brothers had gone out for an early ride so he was hot and a little sleepy. The iced coffee helped with both.
“Sure. Works at the library. Comes in every morning before work to get coffee. Well, except Monday because the library is closed on Mondays. She’s single. You know, if you were asking because you thought she was pretty.”
He gave the barista a smile. He did indeed think Natalie was pretty. Her hair was short now where it had been long years before. He normally loved a woman with long hair, but on her that pixie thing worked. She had a great neck.
A great everything. She’d kept up with him on every level. They partied hard, fucked hard, worked hard. He and the band his brothers had formed, Sweet Hollow Ranch, had had a series of gigs at dives all over Portland and Southwest Washington. They’d managed to get two crappy hotel rooms included as part of their pay.
The motel had been right behind a bowling alley and the shithole of a bar attached to it. Natalie had been a waitress there, slinging drinks and dodging overeager hands when he’d met her.
It had been a matter of hours after meeting—the chemistry so instant and thick between them—until they’d stumbled into her studio apartment and into her bed.
She’d been underage, as had he, but they’d spent the next two weeks together around her shifts at the bar and his gigs.
And then he’d gone on the road, and she’d gone off to college. He’d thought of her over the years. One of their songs, “Dive Bar,” had been about her and those two weeks.
Turns out she lived in the same town. Which meant it was fate. He continued to smile after he’d thanked the barista.
Why she’d pretended not to know him was the question. She had her reasons, and he aimed to know them, too. The woman behind the counter said Natalie was single, so it wasn’t a boyfriend.
Paddy hadn’t achieved the success he had because he gave up when things got hard.
He’d simply keep at it.
He leaned back in his chair and watched the street outside as he drank his coffee. A new challenge was always fun. Especially when it concerned a pretty blonde with long legs and a smile that invited a man to sin and not repent.
“YOU REMEMBER THAT shithole of a bar we hung out in just outside Portland?” Paddy handed a coil of rope to his oldest brother, Ezra.
“Dude, you’ve got to be more specific than that. There are dozens upon dozens of shithole bars I remember. More I don’t.” Ezra snorted as he hung the rope up on a hook just inside the stable door.
Paddy laughed. It had been fifteen years since they’d started out, and that particular shithole bar had been at least a dozen years before. “Back at the beginning. Right before we headed to L.A. and made the first record with the label. The bar was next to a bowling alley. We had two rooms in that rattrap of a motel that was behind it.”
“Ah! Yes, I do remember that one. Damien got his ass jumped by those cowboys who heckled us and waited for him after the show.”
“Then