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He loped across the street, dodging the occasional car, and headed straight for the Royal Diner.
The place was a landmark in town. He could remember going there as a kid with his folks and then later, as a teenager, he’d gathered there with his friends after football games and on long, boring summer afternoons.
It was the unofficial heart of town, which meant that at any time during the day, there would be a crowd inside. A crowd that would watch his and Amanda’s first meeting with interest.
“Well, hell,” he muttered as he marched up to the glass door. “Might as well get it done and let the gossips loose.”
He pulled the door open, stepped inside and stopped, letting his gaze slide over the familiar surroundings. Mostly familiar, he corrected silently.
The walls had been painted. No longer a bright white that seemed to sear your eyes on a hot summer day, the walls were now a soft green, dotted with framed photos of Royal through the years. The counter had been changed, too—the old chipped and scarred red was now a shining sweep of a deeper, richer red. The black-and-white checked floors had been polished and the red vinyl booth seats had all been revamped. There were new chairs pulled up to the scatter of tables and sunshine streamed through the windows lining Main Street.
But none of it really mattered to him.
How could it?
He was too focused on the woman standing behind that new counter, staring at him.
Amanda Altman.
Damn. She looked way too good.
Nathan took a breath, forcing air into lungs suddenly starving for sustenance. He hadn’t really expected to feel the rush of heat swamping him. He’d convinced himself he was over her. Had forgotten what it had been like to be with her.
Big mistake.
“Hello, Nathan.”
“Amanda,” he said and ignored the swell of whispers sliding around the room as if carried along by a west Texas wind.
She moved toward the end of the counter, positioning herself behind the cash register. Defensive move?
Oddly enough, that eased him some. Knowing she was no happier about this public meeting than he was took some of the pressure off. In fact, he thought, it sort of tossed the power back into his lap.
She was new here. Okay, yeah, she’d grown up in Royal, just as he had. But Nathan had been here for the last three years and she’d been back in town only a couple of weeks. He’d made his place here and she was still treading water.
With that thought firmly in mind, he walked toward her and noted her chin came up defiantly. Damned if he hadn’t missed that stubborn move of hers.
“Morning, Nathan,” Pam chirped loudly. “We’ve missed you in here lately.”
“Been busy,” he said and ignored Hank Bristow’s snort of derision.
“You want your usual?”
“That’d be good, Pam, thanks,” he said, his gaze never leaving Amanda’s.
She looked the same and yet…different. Maybe it was just that she was older now. Maybe it was the fact that her eyes weren’t shining with adoration when she looked up at him. Didn’t matter, he assured himself. Amanda was his past, in spite of his body’s reaction to her.
“So,” he said, knowing everyone in the diner was holding their breath, waiting to hear what might happen next, “you back to stay or this just a visit?”
Pam walked up to him then and handed him a to-go cup filled with black coffee. He didn’t even glance at her as he took it and reached into his pocket for cash.
“On the house,” Amanda told him.
“Not necessary,” Nathan said and laid a couple of dollars on the counter. “You didn’t answer the question, Amanda. You here to stay or just blowin’ through?”
“I’m home to stay, Nathan,” Amanda said. “I hope that won’t be a problem for you.”
He laughed shortly, and took a sip of coffee. Deliberately then, he said loudly enough for everyone to hear, “Why would that be a problem for me, Amanda? You and I are long since done.”
He could almost see every customer in the place perking up their ears and leaning in closer so as not to miss a single word.
“You’re right,” Amanda said, lifting her chin even higher. “We’re not kids anymore. There’s no reason why we can’t be friendly.”
Friendly? His entire body was jittering with heat and she thought they could be friends? Not a chance. But he wasn’t going to give her the satisfaction of knowing that.
“None at all,” Nathan agreed tightly.
“Good. I’m glad that’s settled,” she said.
“Me, too.”
“Oh, yeah,” Hank muttered with a snort. “We can all see that this has worked out fine.”
“Butt out, Hank,” Nathan told him and turned for the door.
“Walk me to my car, Nathan?” Pam blurted and had him stopping for one last look behind him. But instead of seeing the woman headed toward him, his gaze darted straight to Amanda and he felt a surge of heat zap him.
The past might be dead and gone, but whatever hummed between them had just enough life left in it to be annoying.
When Pam threaded her arm through his, Nathan led her out and didn’t bother looking back again.
Two (#u90ebe143-7c0c-5668-a5c5-53c8a3f7a6c5)
“That went well,” Amanda told herself as she entered the tiny apartment over the diner that was now home.
All day, she’d been thinking about that brief, all-too-public meeting with Nathan. Which was, she thought grimly, probably exactly what he’d been hoping for. Nathan had always been the kind of man to assume command of any given situation. He was the take-charge type and so it was like him to make sure their first meeting was just the way he wanted it. That’s why he’d come into the diner during the morning bustle—so that there would be so many witnesses to their conversation, neither one of them could really talk.
Honestly, the man hadn’t changed a bit. Still stiff-necked and hardheaded. She’d seen that familiar, stony glint in his eye that morning and known the minute he opened his mouth that nothing between them would be settled. But then, she thought, why would it be?
She dropped onto an overstuffed, floral sofa that was older than she was, and propped her feet on the narrow coffee table in front of her. The romance novel she was currently reading lay beside an old ceramic pitcher filled with daisies and bluebells. Their scent was a soft sigh of summer in the too-warm room and, not for the first time, Amanda wished the apartment boasted more than a thirty-year-old air conditioner with a habit of shutting down every now and then for no particular reason.
The sofa held bright, boldly colored accent pillows and the two chairs in the room were more comfortable to look at than they were for sitting. There were pictures on the walls, a few throw rugs across the scarred wooden floor and the walls were still the dusty sand color Amanda’s mother had preferred.
Folding her arms over her chest, Amanda stared up at the lazily spinning ceiling fan. A tired breeze of air sulkily drifted over her. This little apartment above the diner was like a security blanket. Her parents had lived here when they first married and opened the diner. Then later, they’d rented it out, furnished, to different people over the years. Pam had lived here for a while, then it had been Amanda’s turn while she was in college. Having her own place had given her the chance to find her independence while staying close enough to home to feel safe.
Plus, she and Nathan had met here a lot back in those days. Those memories were imprinted on the tiny apartment, with its outdated, yet cozy furniture. If she tried, Amanda thought she’d be able to hear his voice, whispering to her in the dark.
She didn’t try.
Instead, she concentrated on what he’d had to say that morning. Or rather what he hadn’t said.
“He didn’t want to talk anything through,” she said to the empty room and paused, as if waiting for the shadows to agree with her. “He only wanted to let me know that seeing me again meant nothing. He was trying to lay down the rules. Just like before. He tells you what things will be like, lays out his orders, then steps back, giving you room to follow them.”
Well, he was in for a shock. She didn’t take orders anymore. In fact, looking back at the girl she had once been made her nearly cringe. Back then, she’d been young enough and in love enough, that she had never once argued with Nathan—at least until that last night. When he announced his choice of a movie, she hadn’t said she hated action movies. She’d never told him that she didn’t like going to car shows or that she found fishing to be the most boring activity in the world.
Nope. Instead, Amanda had sat through countless movies where the only storyline revolved around demolition. She’d spent interminably long days watching Nathan fish in local streams and rivers and she didn’t want to think about the hours lost staring at car engines.
Looking back now, Amanda couldn’t believe how completely she’d given herself up to Nathan. Then, he was all she had cared about. All she thought about. And when everything fell apart between them…she’d had no idea what to do with herself.
It had taken a while to find her feet. To find Amanda. But she’d done it and there was no going back now—even if she wanted to, which she so did not.
Lifting her chin, she narrowed her eyes on the fan blades as if facing down Nathan himself. “I’m all grown up now, Nathan. I’m not going to roll over and speak on command. I don’t need you anymore.”
As her own words rang out in the room, Amanda gave a tight smile. Good words. Now if she could just believe them.
Oh, she didn’t need Nathan like she had then. Like she had needed air. Water. No, now what she needed was to get rid of the memories. To clear Nathan Battle out of her mind and heart once and for all, so she could move on. So she could stop remembering that when things were good between them, they were very good.
What she had to concentrate on, she told herself firmly as she leaped off the couch to pace the confines of the small living area, was the bad parts. The times Nathan had made her crazy. The dictatorial Nathan who had tried to make every decision for her. The man who had insisted they marry because she was pregnant, then the minute that pregnancy was over, had walked away from her so fast, she’d seen nothing but a blur.
That was what she had to remember. The pain of not only losing the baby she’d had such dreams for, but also realizing that the man she loved wasn’t the man she’d thought he was.
If she could just do that, she’d be fine.
She walked to the galley-style kitchen and rummaged in the fridge for some of yesterday’s leftovers. Working with food all day pretty much ensured that she wasn’t hungry enough to cook for herself in the evening. But tonight, pickings were slim. A bowl of the diner’s five-star chili, a few sandwiches and a plate of double-stuffed baked potatoes that hadn’t sold the day before.
None of it looked tempting, but she knew she had to eat. So she grabbed the potatoes—and a bottle of chardonnay—then closed the fridge. She pulled out a cookie sheet, lined the potatoes up on it and put it in the oven. Once the temperature was set, she poured herself a glass of wine and carried it with her to the doll-sized bathroom.
It only took her a few minutes to shower and change into a pair of cutoff jean shorts and a tank top. Then she took her wine and walked barefoot back to the living room to wait for dinner.
The crisp, cold wine made the waiting easier to take. Heck, it even made thoughts of Nathan less…disturbing. What did it say about her, she wondered, that even when she was furious with the man, she still felt that buzz of something amazing?
Sad, sad Amanda.
In the years since she and Nathan had broken up, she hadn’t exactly lived like a nun. She’d had dates. Just not many. But how could she think about a future when the past kept rising up in her mind? It always came back to Nathan. When she met a man, she waited, hoping to feel that special zing she had only found with Nathan. And it was never there.
How could she possibly agree to marry someone else if Nathan was the one who made her body burn? Was she supposed to settle? Impossible. She wanted what she’d once had. She just wanted it with someone else.
Heck, she had known Nathan was there the minute he’d walked into the diner. She hadn’t had to see him. She’d felt his presence—like the electricity in the air just before a thunderstorm. And that first look into his eyes had jolted her so badly, it had been all she could do to lock her knees into place so she wouldn’t melt into an embarrassing puddle of goo.
No one else had ever done that to her.
Only him.
She took a sip of her wine and shook her head. “This is not a good sign, Amanda.”
It had been years since she’d seen him, touched him, and it might as well have been yesterday from the way her own body was reacting. Every cell inside her was jumping up and down, rolling out the red carpet and putting on a party hat.
But there weren’t going to be any parties. Not with Nathan, at any rate. She’d never get him out of her system if she let him back in.
Trying to distract herself from the hormonal rodeo going on inside her, she walked to one of the windows overlooking Main Street and looked out at Royal. Only a few cars on the road and almost no pedestrians. The silence was staggering. Streetlights dropped puddles of yellow light on the empty sidewalks and, above the town, a clear night sky displayed thousands of stars.
Life in a small town was vastly different than what she’d known the last few years living in Dallas. There, the city bustled with life all night. Shops and clubs and bars glittered with neon lights so bright, they blotted out the stars overhead. Tourists flocked to the city to spend their money, and the nightlife was as busy as the daytime crowds.
It had been so different from the way she’d grown up, such a distraction from the pain she was in—Amanda had really enjoyed city life. At first. But over time, she had become just another nameless person rushing through the crowds, going from work to an apartment and back again the next day. Nights were crowded with noise and people and the gradual realization that she wasn’t happy.
Her life had become centered around a job she didn’t really like and a nightlife she didn’t actually enjoy. She had a few friends and a few dates that always seemed to end badly—probably her own fault since she never had been able to meet a man without comparing him to Nathan. Pitiful, really, but there it was.
Then her father passed away and, a few months later, she got the call for help from Pam. Even knowing that she would have to eventually deal with Nathan again, Amanda had left the big city behind and rushed back home to Royal.
And she had slid back into life here as easily as if she’d never left. The truth was, she was really a small-town girl at heart.
She liked a town where nighttime brought quiet and families gathered together. She liked knowing that she was safe—without having to have two or three locks on her apartment door. And, right now, she liked knowing that she wouldn’t have to talk to anyone until at least tomorrow morning.
She could have stayed at her family home, where Pam was living. But Amanda had become accustomed to having her own space. Besides, as evidenced by her sister’s behavior today, just because Pam had needed her help didn’t mean that she wanted Amanda around. She’d never been close with her sister and, so far, that situation looked as though it wasn’t going to change any.
She took another sip of her wine and let that thought, along with all the thoughts of Nathan, slide from her mind. She wasn’t going to solve everything in one night, so why drive herself nuts?
Her gaze slid to the darkened sheriff’s office. No one was there, of course. In a town the size of Royal, you didn’t need an on-duty police presence twenty-four hours a day. Besides, Nathan and his deputy were only a phone call away.
She wondered if Nathan still lived out on his family’s ranch, the Battlelands. Then she reminded herself firmly it was none of her business where Nathan lived.
“Thinking about him is not the way to stop thinking about him,” she told herself aloud.
The scent of melting cheese and roasting potatoes was beginning to fill the air and her stomach rumbled. Apparently she was hungrier than she had thought.
When the knock sounded on her door, she was more surprised than anything else. She took a step forward, then stopped, staring at the door leading to the outside staircase at the side of the diner. A ripple of something familiar sneaked across her skin and she took a gulp of her wine to ease the sensation. Didn’t really help. But then, nothing could. Because she knew who was knocking on her door.
When she was steady enough, she walked to the door and asked unnecessarily, “Who is it?”
“It’s me, Amanda.” It was Nathan’s voice, low and commanding. “Open up.”
Wow. Skitters of expectation jolted through her. Amazing that just his voice could do that to her. After all these years, he could still stir her up without even trying.
She put one hand flat against the door and she could have sworn that she actually felt heat sliding through the wood. She took a breath, smoothed out her voice and tried to do the same for her racing heart. It didn’t work.
“What do you want, Nathan?” she asked, leaning her forehead against the door panel.
“What I want is to not be standing out here talking through a door where anyone in Royal can see me.”
Not that there were a lot of people out there at night. But all it would take was one busybody happening to glance up and word would fly all over town. Nathan was at Amanda’s doorstep last night!
Okay, she thought, straightening, good motivation for opening the door. So she did.
Under the porch light, his brown hair looked lighter, his shoulders looked broader and his eyes…too shadowed to read. But then, she thought, it wasn’t difficult to guess what he was thinking, feeling. His stance was stiff, his jaw tight. He looked as though he’d rather be anywhere but there.
Well, fine. She hadn’t invited him, had she? “What is it, Nathan?”
He scowled at her and stepped inside.
