Sandra Panting - About Last Summer

All he wanted was a kiss. One, sweet, simple kiss. He needed to know if he imagined the potent chemistry between them, because the more he thought about it the more he was convinced he must have. Sex just wasn’t that amazing. Sex was sex. It can be fulfilling both emotionally and physically, but sex never made him feel like his next breath depended on being inside her.

Sex just wasn’t that good.

Ignoring his conscience he moved in for a taste. Once, twice, three times their mouths connected. Then by degree his kiss lingered. With the exception of his arm at her waist only their mouths touched. The lack of full body contact was both erotic and frustrating. He wanted her flat against him; her body aligned with his, her hands tangled in his hair, but if he took things that far there would be no turning back.

And he couldn’t afford to forget about her brother, who also happened to be Chase’s best friend, a friend that had asked Chase to keep his distance from his sister. Resisting the intoxicating allure of tasting more of her sweet kiss, he reluctantly withdrew.

Resting his forehead against hers, he said, “I think you’re right. We do have a problem.”

“Chase,” she said, her eyes speaking of the same desire, a desire that had once consumed them both without regard for the consequences. “We can’t do this again.”

“I know.” Boy, did he ever know. They were lucky someone hadn’t caught on before now.

She placed a hand against his chest, the warmth of her touch detectable through the thin fabric of his cotton shirt and, taking the hint, he backed off.

“I should be heading back to the party,” she said, although he suspected her statement was a cop-out to avoid facing what had happened between them. Not that he had any right to judge.

He nodded. “That’s probably not a bad idea.”

Natalie headed up the path, his gaze trailing after her, his emotions twisted worse than a corkscrew. He hadn’t wanted to go down this road with her again, but his biggest problem was how did he stop?

*****

“Beautiful wedding, Natalie.”

Natalie tossed Wendy Taylor a brittle smile, although she didn’t stop to chat. Having spent the last four hours on her feet in three-inch heels, and with her mother breathing down her neck about every detail of the wedding, Natalie had only one thing on her mind: getting to the bar.

Last year Doris Campbell had retired from the event planning business, and turned the reins over to Natalie. Well, that was the official story anyway. Doris still poked her nose into the more notable events, and she had a tendency to make Natalie feel as if she wasn’t capable of a competent decision.

But always the cool collected professional, Natalie smiled, did her job, then tossed back a few shots at the bar when no one was looking. After all, imbibing alcohol was preferable to murder. And it was more socially acceptable, too.

“I see your mother is as omnipresent as ever,” Wayne Holland commented as he claimed the bar stool next to Natalie’s.

Wayne was the bride’s cousin, and his sense of humor had saved Natalie’s sanity more than once during the past year. He was good looking in a Jason Bateman kind of way, and Natalie had noticed more than one of the single female guests giving him the eye.

Natalie, elbows resting on the dark mahogany bar, exhaled a weighty sigh. “My mother has spent most of the afternoon complaining about the F.O.B.’s tie.” At Wayne’s confused look, she clarified, “The Father of the Bride.”

Wayne’s shoulders shifted beneath his charcoal-colored suit jacket as he caught the bartender’s attention. The reception room’s glittering décor cast an amber glow adding a reddish hue to the area.

“What’s wrong with his tie?” Wayne asked.

After tossing back her shot of apple Schnapps, she rolled her eyes. “Don’t get me started.”

So far today her mother had complained about the F.O.B.’s tie, the bridesmaids’ flowers, and the fact that one of the wedding guests had a slight stain on her right shoulder. Although the fact that was all Doris had complained about today was something of a miracle.

Holding up his own shot which the bartender had just plunked down in front of him, Wayne said, “Well, don’t let her get you down. The wedding was beautiful, and I’m not the only one who thinks so. Brittany is happy, her mother is happy, and in general everyone seems to be having a great time. So well done.” He tossed back his shot, something caramel-colored, and then offered her a smile.

Natalie returned his smile. Over the past year she had felt the tug of attraction between her and Wayne, but nothing had happened. A few months ago Brittany, today’s bride, had let slip that Wayne had a girlfriend who was attending Harvard law school. Which explained a lot, but truth be told Natalie doubted if she would have gone out with him regardless. Her mind and her heart were too full of Chase. As much as it sucked to have him constantly in her thoughts, she couldn’t help it. The heart wants what the heart wants.

“Natalie.” Her mother suddenly materialized at her side. “Did you check the tables? The Hamptons and the Littles aren’t supposed to be seated next to one another. You need to stay on top of these things,” she continued, waving an irate hand at the now empty shot glass in front of Natalie. “And this isn’t the time to party.”

Well, Natalie’s reprieve had been nice while it lasted.

“Join me later for a dance?” Wayne asked.

Grateful for the touch of sympathy in his eyes, Natalie agreed with a what the hell shrug then. resisting the urge to order another shot. she trailed after her mother. After graduating college, becoming a full-time partner in her mother’s event planning business, Brides and Such, had seemed like a good career move, but the constant stress of trying to please her social-conscious mother was taking its toll. She often considered choosing another career, but she had no idea what, and even if she did know, how could she tell her mother that her only daughter no longer wanted anything to do with the business her mother had started from scratch?

*****

With her feet aching and her stomach growling with hunger, Natalie sank onto the driver’s seat of her dark blue convertible. The wedding reception was finally over and the happy bride and groom were on their way to start their new life together. Their praise of how Natalie handled their wedding had been a welcome balm after listening to her mother’s complaints, but it was over and now it was time to go home. Although going home meant facing Chase.

Thinking about Chase triggered a completely different set of anxieties. Images of him had flashed in her thoughts all day. Images of his dark, slightly wavy hair. Images of his chocolate-brown eyes that could fill with tenderness or darken with passion. Chase possessed something of the boy next door good looks; not the shy loner type, but more of the I-look-like-the-type-of-guy- you’d-want-dating-your-daughter, when in reality most mothers in Baker Hill thought the opposite of Chase.

However, having dealt with enough stress today and wanting to focus on something else, Natalie slipped in the rowdiest CDs she owned and, with the beat pounding away; she headed for the edge of town and navigated the curvy river roads. Fifteen minutes later she parked in the drive and, weary from the long day, she rested her forehead against the steering wheel.

Maybe she’d just sleep out here. Surely Patrick wouldn’t mind. All she needed was a pillow, maybe a blanket, and then she wouldn’t have to face climbing the stairs. Or worse – Chase. Normally she preferred to face life head on, and if all hell broke loose at least she could console herself with the knowledge she hadn’t just stood around and done nothing. But Chase was a whole other matter. There was something about him that got to her, and she couldn’t turn it off. And heaven knew she’d certainly tried.