Welcome to Paradise, Page 3

  “Mayor Price wanted the land,” Charlotte replied with a shrug. “And since I didn’t plan on using it, I figured it would be of better use to the mayor.”

  “Well, he did make use of it. Little Lexie lives there now. Mayor built her a gorgeous house up there.”

  Charlotte almost tripped over her own feet. Lexie Price lived on her former land? Wasn’t that something. She suddenly felt like laughing as she wondered if Lexie had performed an exorcism prior to moving in, so she could eradicate the spirit of Tiff the town whore.

  “Oh, there’s so much more I have to tell you,” Sue chirped. “Lots of gossip since you left.”

  “I’d love to hear it,” Charlotte lied. “But first, I was thinking of taking a nap. I barely slept last night.”

  “Excited to be home, huh?”

  Uh, more like terrified. She’d been plagued with thoughts of Nate Bishop since the second she’d asked Georgia to book her the flight to Colorado.

  Are you actually going to go through with it?

  She ignored the disapproving voice in her head. Seemed like her conscience had been making unwelcome appearances ever since she’d decided to go ahead with this little seduction plan. It had sounded so much more appealing when she’d been drunk. Once the alcohol had worn off, though, common sense had settled in, but by then it had been too late—Georgia had already booked the room and flight. Canceling hadn’t been an option. Knowing Sue Anderson, the word of Charlotte’s impending arrival had spread within seconds of the booking, and Charlotte could only imagine the nasty things everyone would say about her if she didn’t show up.

  “I’ll let you rest, then,” Sue said.

  “Thanks, Sue.”

  As the older woman left the room, Charlotte moved to the bed and sat down on the edge. Was she actually going to do this? Seduce Nate? She hadn’t seen him in years. What if she wasn’t even attracted to him anymore?

  What if he wasn’t attracted to her?

  She pictured Nate at eighteen. His thick hair, the color of dark, liquid chocolate. Those smoky gray eyes, a sparkling silver when he laughed, an overcast evening when he brooded. As a teenager he’d been tall and lanky but muscular, thanks to his position as tailback of the Paradise Panthers. He’d been the only bright spot in her miserable life. And when he kissed her…

  Her toes curled involuntarily. She missed those kisses.

  God, what was she doing? Just being back made her feel insecure and miserable, and it would only get worse once she was reunited with her former classmates.

  Closure.

  Right, closure. She had to hold on to that. Nate Bishop had ruined her love life, and she wouldn’t be able to move on until she faced him again.

  Lifting her chin, Charlotte stood up and went to her suitcase. She unzipped it, rummaged around for her makeup case, then marched toward the bathroom.

  No backing out now. She’d come here to make Nate rue every word he’d hurled her way fifteen years ago. She was desirable. She could turn him on.

  And he had better watch out.

  Chapter Three

  The circus was underway.

  Charlotte had barely been at the reunion for twenty minutes, and already she wanted desperately to get the hell out of here. Girls she’d gone to high school with, girls who’d smirked and scowled at her, talked behind her back, spread rumors about her—suddenly they were all smiles. Sugary-sweet with their “Oh my God, Charlotte! You look amazing!” and their “I’m so happy you showed up! Everyone in town is so proud of your career!”

  Bullshit. They weren’t proud. They were flat-out jealous, which she read from the snooty undertones in their gushing words.

  Boys who claimed to have slept with her in high school had grown up into men who wanted to sleep with her now, whose leering smiles and “charming” innuendo made bile rise in her throat.

  These people were so fake. She felt like shaking each and every one of them by the collar and saying, “You made my life miserable, you assholes!”

  Instead, she put on a poised, casual front, making small talk, pretending she actually gave a damn about these people. At least the party itself wasn’t bad. Tiny silver lights had been strung from lampposts to create a sparkling, almost romantic ambiance. The dance floor was large and shiny, and several of her former classmates were dancing to the classy and lively songs played by the big band outfit the mayor had flown in from Denver.

  Charlotte made her way toward the open bar where she ordered a glass of champagne then leaned against the long counter and watched the crowd.

  At the sound of footsteps, she moved her head, only to experience an inward cringe as she found herself looking into Lexie Price’s ice-blue eyes.

  “Charlotte,” Lexie greeted her. No smile this time, just tight lips and wariness.

  “Lexie,” she returned, equally cool.

  Lexie signaled the bartender and ordered white wine then turned and said, “I didn’t think you’d show.”

  “And why is that?” Charlotte kept her tone utterly polite.

  Lexie shrugged, causing her loose blonde hair to fall over one graceful shoulder. She wore a pale blue satin dress, silver ballet slippers, and no makeup save for some shiny pink lip-gloss. It irked Charlotte, how beautiful Lexie still was.

  “You’ve got a busy life now,” Lexie said sweetly. “Fame, fortune, all that fun stuff.”

  “I hear you’re doing well too. Editor in chief of the Post. Must be nice.”

  “It is.”

  The two women sipped their drinks. Lexie eyed her cautiously over the rim of her glass. Charlotte eyed her right back. The streak of animosity sliding back and forth between them was unmistakable.

  And then, just as she’d expected, the claws came out.

  “You shouldn’t have come back here,” Lexie said in a low voice.

  Charlotte bristled. “Oh really? Last I checked, I was still born and raised here, just like you.”

  “Your mother’s gone. Your house is gone. There’s nothing here for you anymore.”

  Anger swirled around in the pit of her stomach. Of all the mean-spirited, presumptuous things—the anger suddenly faded into pure, unadulterated shock.

  Nate Bishop had just appeared in the crowd.

  Her surroundings dissolved in an abrupt swoosh. Lexie was gone, the music went silent, her former classmates disappeared.

  All she saw was Nate.

  Her breath jammed in her throat as she realized he was no longer the gorgeous teenager she remembered.

  He was so much more.

  His body had filled out, transforming from lanky to deliciously big. His casual black blazer stretched over a set of broad shoulders, the blue button-down beneath it doing nothing to hide the rippled muscles of his chest. His waist was trim, legs hugged by a pair of black trousers, and his hair was longer, dark strands falling onto a proud forehead and curling under his ears.

  He was walking toward her.

  Charlotte’s pulse took off in a frenzied gallop. Her gaze locked with a pair of familiar gray eyes. His face was as handsome as she remembered, save for a few new lines around his mouth and eyes, which only made him all the more distinguished.

  The closer he got, the faster her heart pounded, and by the time he approached, she couldn’t hear a thing over the drumming in her ears.

  “Charlotte.”

  The husky voice she remembered so clearly seared right through the silky material of her dress and heated every inch of her skin.

  She found her voice but it still came out raspy. “Nate.”

  He shifted, looking big and awkward and so unbelievably sexy. “It’s been a long time.”

  “Too long,” she murmured.

  Silence fell over them. She was suddenly aware of Lexie beside her, of Lexie’s blue eyes slowly moving from Charlotte to Nate.

  Across the square, the band changed its tempo, the singer belting out a slow Sinatra classic.

  Charlotte took a breath and met Nate’s eyes. “Would you like to
dance?”

  Pure torture. Nate’s entire body was tight as a drum, his heartbeat hammering against his ribs as he drew Charlotte into his arms and finally laid his hands on the woman who had haunted him for more than a decade.

  She was spectacular. Far more beautiful than those album covers and live concerts portrayed her to be. Charlotte in person was a fucking wet dream. His cock throbbed against his zipper just from the sight of her.

  She was still tiny, barely over five feet. Still curvy, the hills and valleys of her figure hugged by a green dress with a deep vee neckline and a filmy skirt that seductively swirled around her knees. Her bright red hair was tied up in a twist, with wavy wisps framing her heart-shaped face and contrasting wildly with her pale, almost lime-green eyes. Her cupid’s bow of a mouth made his own mouth tingle, and the way she pressed her body into his had him battling the impulse to throw her down on the floor and devour her.

  “You look good,” she murmured as she wrapped her arms around his neck.

  Nate rested his palms on her waist, fighting the urge to tug her even closer and rub his aching dick against the juncture of her thighs. “You look good too.”

  Good? Talk about the understatement of the year.

  “Thank you,” she said simply.

  They moved to the music in a slow, sensual rhythm. From the corner of his eye, Nate saw Lexie watching them in disapproval. He spun Charlotte around so he wouldn’t have to see Lexie anymore. Charlotte was back. Charlotte was in his arms. Right now, that was all that mattered.

  “I’ve been following your career,” he said gruffly. “You’ve done really well for yourself, Charlie.”

  She hissed in a breath.

  His hand froze on her slender hip. “What?”

  “It’s just…nobody’s called me that in years.” Uneasiness flickered across her face. “Actually, you’re the only one who ever did.”

  Nate’s chest squeezed as he absorbed the expression in her eyes. She was thinking about the past. More specifically, their past. Even more specific—the night he’d broken her heart.

  He drew in a ragged breath. He’d always known that eventually he’d have to explain himself. To tell Charlotte why he’d done what he did.

  “I’m glad you came home,” he said in a quiet voice. “After you left, I wanted so badly to—”

  A red manicured finger pressed against his lips. “I don’t want to talk about why I left.”

  Surprise jolted through him. “No?”

  She shook her head. “It’s in the past, Nate. I’m over it.”

  Relief and doubt warred in his body. “You are?”

  A tiny smile tugged on the corner of her lush mouth. “We were kids. I know you probably didn’t even mean half of what you said.”

  Try all of it.

  “I’m thirty-two,” she went on, the smile becoming wry. “I don’t spend much time thinking about conversations I had when I was seventeen.”

  He searched her beautiful face and saw only sincerity reflecting back at him. She was serious. The heartless words that had torn his stomach into knots all these years evidently had not had the same effect on Charlotte.

  “I never got to apologize to you,” he found himself blurting.

  The finger that seconds ago had touched his lips now gently traced the line of his jaw. “You were forgiven a long time ago.”

  Nate could hardly describe the burst of joy that went off inside him like fireworks. Charlotte had forgiven him? For so long he’d longed to see her, to hear her voice and look into her eyes and see anything but the despair he so clearly remembered. For a moment, he almost launched into an apology anyway, at least so he could explain why he’d broken up with her the way he had, but he couldn’t bring himself to say the words. Charlotte was here, with an earnest and slightly playful glimmer in her beautiful green eyes, and he didn’t want to spoil the moment.

  The music changed, becoming an up-tempo Bobby Darin song, but neither Nate nor Charlotte altered the lazy pace they’d set. All around them, their former classmates were dancing and laughing and chatting over drinks, but Nate didn’t pay them any attention. All he could focus on was the sexy woman in his arms.

  “I thought about you a lot over the years,” Charlotte admitted, nestling her head on his shoulder.

  Nate swallowed. “You did?”

  “Yeah.” Her breath was warm against his already feverish skin. “I wondered what you looked like now, what you were doing.”

  “Not much,” he said with a husky laugh. “Just running Dad’s pub, having a weekly poker game with Owen and some other guys, pretty much living a very boring life.”

  “Nate Bishop, boring?” Her eyes twinkled. “What happened to the wild guy I used to know?”

  “He grew up.” Nate laughed again. “Your life seems pretty wild, though.”

  “More like exhausting.”

  She laughed, and the melodic sound sent a jolt of arousal straight down to his groin. Fuck, he wanted her. So damn much. How was it possible that in fifteen years he still felt the same uncontrollable desire for this woman?

  “I’m in the studio most of the time, or on tour, or writing songs in my apartment. I don’t go out much, to be honest.”

  He believed her. From what he knew from the papers, Charlotte made a huge effort to stay out of the limelight. She rarely gave interviews, never spoke of her personal life and was hardly ever caught by the paparazzi. Which was excruciatingly irritating since he had no way of knowing what she was doing, if she was seeing anyone…

  Judging by the bare ring finger of her left hand, and the way she was seductively moving her body against his, he suspected she was very much single.

  “Coming here was tough,” she added. “I wasn’t sure if I would.”

  He met her eyes. “Why did you?”

  After a long beat of hesitation, she tightened her grip around his neck and whispered, “I wanted to see you.”

  Nate was dumbfounded. Was he hearing things? The girl he’d once loved so desperately had grown up into a sexy, talented woman, and instead of hating him for the way he’d treated her, she’d come back to a town she despised just to see him.

  And just when he thought she couldn’t surprise him any more, she threw him for another loop.

  “I missed you, Nate.”

  His mouth went bone-dry. “You did?”

  “Yeah.” A secretive little smile swept across her mouth. “We had fun together, didn’t we?”

  “Yeah, we had fun.”

  To his sheer disappointment, her hands dropped from his shoulders and she took a step back. But then he saw the mischief dancing in her eyes and realized she wasn’t about to abandon him. “Why don’t we get a drink and catch up some more?” she suggested, already turning toward the bar without checking to see if he was following.

  Which was exactly what he did.

  As if a magnet were pulling him toward her, he followed Charlotte’s delectable backside and forced himself not to question this sudden stroke of good fortune.

  Charlotte had forgiven him, and for the first time in years, there was a spring to his step as he went to join the only woman he’d ever loved.

  He smelled really good. Too good, Charlotte amended as Nate bent to whisper something in her ear and the intoxicating scent of soap and spice and something deliciously masculine floated into her nose. She couldn’t believe how easily he’d bought her lie. Maybe he was so desperate to be rid of his own guilt that he actually believed she’d gotten over what happened between them.

  But she hadn’t.

  Although she’d had second thoughts about this silly seduction plan, the way Nate so carelessly brought up the past had seriously grated. Yes, she’d seen some guilt in his eyes, but she’d hoped for more. It’s been a long time. Fifteen years, and those were the first words he said to her? How about, Fuck, Charlotte, I’m so, so, so sorry for what I said. For ripping your heart out and stomping on it with my boot. For making you so insecure you couldn’t have sex for fou
r years after what I did.

  But no, she got It’s been a long time.

  And then when she’d acted as if his betrayal didn’t bother her, his face had brightened up like a kid’s eyes on Christmas morning. He’d probably been thinking, Hey, I got off easy. She doesn’t even care that I dumped her three seconds after taking her virginity.

  Jerk.

  Though really, what had she been expecting? That he’d get down on his knees and grovel for her forgiveness?

  Well, no. But she’d at least hoped to see some shame on his part.

  I never got to apologize to you.

  Then do it now, she’d wanted to yell. She might have lied and said she’d forgiven him, but he should have still apologized, still tried to explain his actions. Instead, he’d let it go as effortlessly as she’d pretended to.

  “I own all your records.”

  His husky voice jolted her from her angry thoughts. Surprise joined the anger when she registered what he’d said. “You do?”

  “You’re so talented, Charlie,” he said roughly. “I always knew you’d make it to the big time.”

  The nickname made her heart somersault. Damn him. Why did he still affect her this way?

  Before she could reply, a tall brunette hesitantly approached them, a napkin and pen in her hand. “I don’t mean to bother you, but would you mind signing an autograph?”

  Charlotte pasted on a smile, all the while trying to figure out who the woman was. Cara something or other. Or was it Tara?

  “I’m Tara,” the brunette added with a tentative smile. “We had P.E. together senior year.”

  Right, Tara. Charlotte resisted the urge to glare as she suddenly remembered precisely who Tara was and what she had done. Tara and a few of her friends had stolen Charlotte’s clothes from the locker room after gym class one afternoon. They’d probably hoped she’d venture out in the hall, in all her nude glory, looking for help, but Charlotte had simply sat down on the hard wooden bench. And cried. Naked. For five hours, until the female janitor finally came into the locker room hours after school ended and scrounged up some clothes for the sobbing teenaged girl.

  Fun times.