The Best Kind of Trouble Page 98
It didn’t matter then that she was in a public place. He was there with her.
“If you’ll let me, Nat, I’ll be the man you need every day for the rest of our lives. I’m sorry. I’m sorry I hurt you. I promised to take care of the trust you gave me, and I didn’t. I was stupid and careless, and I hurt you. Please give me another chance.”
Three weeks and she hadn’t seen him. Three weeks and she’d thought things might have been over but there, with his hand on her cheek, his body touching hers, those eyes seeing right through her, she’d been lying to pretend she didn’t want to be with him.
“Okay.”
His smile grew. “Okay? I’m going to kiss you now. Right here in front of Bobbi and God and everyone walking by.”
“Get to it, Patrick.”
His mouth met hers, and she breathed him in. She slid her hands around his waist, under his coat and held on.
It wasn’t a slow, sweet kiss. The heat of him slammed against her system, taking over. His tongue brushed over her bottom lip before he gave it a hard tug with his teeth.
It was only because it was so public that she didn’t give in to the moan threatening to burst from her diaphragm. He kissed himself right back into her life and when he broke away, he rested his forehead to hers.
“I’ve missed you so much. It feels so good to have you here in my arms where you belong.”
It did feel good. And right.
“I missed you, too. What are you doing here?”
“Groveling. We got in late last night. I wanted to come to you then, but all the lights were off when I drove by. I knew you’d be here to get coffee before work, so I figured I’d wait here and pounce when you got all moony-eyed over doughnuts.”
“You’re diabolical.”
He cupped her cheeks, holding her face as he looked at her so intently, it was like he was committing every bit of her to his memory. “I’ll do anything I have to to get you back.”
Someone cleared their throat, and Natalie looked around, realizing customers were waiting, and they’d been blocking the counter. Bobbi grinned at them.
“Sorry.” She stepped away, paying and grabbing her things, and Paddy kept right with her.
The woman who’d been next in line shrugged. “No need to apologize. I’m going to call my husband when I leave here just to tell him I love him. You going to give this handsome devil a second chance for whatever he did?”
“Do you think I should?”
Paddy snorted.
“He looks at you in a way I hope someone looks at me someday. Plus, he’s gorgeous and rich,” one of the others in line piped up. “Unless he cheated, in which case, punch his Adam’s apple really hard and dump him.”
Paddy rubbed this throat. “I’ve got her, why would I need anyone else?”
“Good answer.” Bobbi winked.
“Can I walk you to work?”
“Yeah. Come on.” She sipped her coffee, and as he opened the door, she grabbed a doughnut and took a bite. When he turned to her, she offered him the other.
“You must love me to share your doughnuts.”
“You’re okay for a rich, gorgeous rock star.”
“I was reckless with your heart and your trust.”
They kept walking, his arm around her shoulders as she leaned in against him.
“Yes. I don’t need every minute of your time or attention. I don’t expect us to never fight because you’re difficult, and you think charming gets you a pass for it.”
She paused and jerked her head to a nearby bench. They sat, and she drank some more coffee before speaking again. “I’m difficult, too. I’m a control freak, which you’ve known since the beginning, so I can’t apologize for that part. I don’t expect you not to be flirty or charming with other women, that’s all part of the Paddy Hurley thing. I know your life is wild, especially on tour. And I accept that, even when it makes me uncomfortable. I’m doing my best to work through it. But I have these, I don’t know, buttons, wounds, whatever, triggers? Whatever you call them, I have them, and sometimes I may not know about them until they get pushed. And you have always accepted that. So now, what I’m saying is, I own my shit when I’m responsible for it. Clearly, I pushed your buttons with how I brought up the interview situation. I made you feel like I didn’t trust you to help me through.”
Paddy sighed. “We’re both a pair. Jeez. Look, it was stupid. I just... I’d worked hard to gain your trust, and I was so happy that you’d come to me, and we’d just had some seriously stellar sex. It hit me wrong, and I just stopped thinking. I hit out and I hurt you. I wanted you to count on me to come to me when you needed something.”
“And I did. And your reaction made me feel like I shouldn’t have. Like I couldn’t.” She chewed on her lip.
“I know. I’m sorry. I wish I could take it all back but I can’t. All I can do is promise to do my best going forward.”
“I need to be able to count on you. Scratch that, I was totally able to count on you. I love you. So much, it was torture not to be with you. But I’d rather feel that than feel like I can’t trust you. And I know it’s unfair to expect so much. I’m a dick, too. And high-maintenance that way. But it’s who I am and how all my broken pieces fit together. In turn, I have to own my shit, too. And stay.”
“You’re not a dick for that. I want it, too. You and your broken pieces need to be with me. They’re the most beautiful broken pieces I’ve ever seen.”