Before Jamaica Lane (On Dublin Street, #3)(67)

The two of them were especially kind to me, asking me lots of questions. His dad in particular was possibly even more charming than Nate. There were so many of us at the table it was hard to carry on just one conversation, so we’d split into separate conversations. I, for one, was happy to get a little more insight into Nate.

‘He used to have this toothbrush he took everywhere,’ Nathan divulged as Sylvie laughed.

‘A toothbrush?’

Nate groaned. ‘I can’t believe you’re telling her the toothbrush story.’

Nathan ignored him, grinning devilishly and so much like Nate that I was mesmerized. ‘You know, with most kids it’s a blanket or a teddy bear. With Nate it was a toothbrush. And not the toothbrush he used. Just a toothbrush he cried and begged his mum to get him from the supermarket.’

I was choking on my laughter now. ‘A toothbrush?’ I repeated, shooting a look at Nate, who was now pretending not to listen. I wondered how it was possible a man could be so sexy and yet so adorable all at the same time.

‘It had a yellow handle with a smiley face on it,’ Nathan continued. ‘He took it everywhere with him. He even took it to bed with him. He’d fall asleep with it clutched in his wee hand. We have photographic evidence.’

I laughed and Nate turned to me, shaking his head. ‘He thinks he has photographic evidence.’

Sylvie gasped. ‘You better not have done anything with those photos, Nathaniel Sawyer, or you’ve had it.’

Nathan saved his son by turning to me. ‘Nate told me your dad is Scottish.’

‘Yup. He’s originally from Paisley.’

‘Has he shown you much of Scotland?’

‘Some. We visited a few years ago and he took me north, I think past Inverness. Since we moved here we’ve been to a couple of places. The western highlands. Oh, and I wanted to see where Robert Burns was from, so he took me south to Alloway, and then we drove right to the border, to Gretna Green. I read a lot, so I’d read about it being the place where abducted heiresses and young English couples forbidden to marry would flee because the marriage laws in Scotland allowed them to marry without parental consent. I wanted to see it. It sounded pretty cool.’

‘You’re a librarian, right?’ Sylvie asked with a smile.

The food arrived at that point, so it wasn’t until my hearty fish and chips – that would do nothing for my belly pouch but add a little more cushion – had been served that I answered her. ‘Yeah, at the university.’

‘Do you have a boyfriend then, Olivia?’ Nathan asked, a glint of mischief in his eyes.

Trying not to squirm at the question or the feel of Nate’s leg tensing against mine, I shook my head quickly and took another bite of food so I would have an excuse not to answer.

‘You’re a beautiful girl.’ Nathan frowned, seeming flummoxed. ‘There’s no one?’

‘She’s choosy.’ Nate saved me. ‘As well she should be.’

‘Well, there’s no such thing as perfect. Sometimes you just have to take what’s there. Isn’t that right, sweetheart?’ Sylvie winked at her husband teasingly, and suddenly I knew where Nate had gotten the ability to make a wink look cool.

Nathan gave her a droll look and turned back to me. ‘Sylvie’s right. You’ll end up living a lonely life if you’re waiting around for perfect.’

I was about to laugh at the well-meaning but overly personal interest they’d taken in my love life within thirty minutes of meeting me when Nate said quietly, ‘Liv’s perfect. She’s deserves perfect. She won’t be settling for anything less.’

It could have been funny. Sweet. Teasing. But there was an intensity about the way he said it that drew the three of us up short. Nathan and Sylvie studied their son with curiosity before turning that attention to me. I dipped my head, my cheeks burning, wondering if we were going to get through this weekend without Nate giving us away.

I was angry with him. And not about his little slips here and there.

I was angry because what he’d just said was utterly beautiful. Looking at him caused a dart of pleasure-pain to hit me in the chest. My blood heated, my fingers curling into little fists. He was making me fall for him.

That wasn’t supposed to be part of the deal.

In an effort to slow my descent, I turned to Cole and started chatting with him and thus found myself in conversation with Cam’s dad, Andy. Andy was a quiet, reserved man who got along really well with Jo’s little brother. As soon as I showed interest in local history, Andy opened up, a veritable fount of information. I was glad for it, glad for the distraction.

The meal wore on, and as conversations collided and beer kicked in, we got louder and louder. It soon became clear to me that Nate, Cam, Peetie, and their families were all very close. There were bonds here that I’d already witnessed from spending time with the guys, but seeing them with their parents made it clear that those bonds were solid. They were forever. I didn’t know if the fact that the guys didn’t have siblings factored into that somehow. It certainly factored into their friendships with each other.

I’d never had anything like that. I’d had my mom, and she had a few close friends. Then Dad came along and all I needed was him and Mom. For some reason or other I’d never had a best friend the way the guys had each other. There weren’t any family get-togethers, although there had always been someone coming in and out of the house because Mom was always helping someone and Dad was always doing a favor for someone else.