“A girl? Women don’t like being called girls,” she said to him.
“Ah, I meant it in a nice way. My dad was real old-fashioned when it came to ladies and we were never allowed to call girls women. He thought it was too harsh.”
Jen shook her head and had to laugh at that. “I guess it's okay then.”
He hugged her close with one arm. They were both sweaty from dancing so much and she liked Nate’s musky smell. She leaned in closer for just a second before she realized what she was doing.
“Don’t,” he said, stopping her by holding her tighter. “I like having you close.”
“I like it, too,” she said, softly. She looked up into those dark obsidian eyes of his.
“Good. Now how about another mojito?”
“I think water would be better,” she said. She was already buzzing a little from the drinks and the dancing. And from Nate, she thought. He went to her head faster than any other man she’d ever been with. Maybe that was because in the past, a man would have had to compete with her dancing career, but now she was simply a woman. And this man…well, he was addictive.
“Water first,” he said. “Then mojitos…I don’t like to drink alone.”
“I’m sure that’s not an issue. You always have someone on your arm.”
“Not always,” he said.
And as he walked away, she realized there was more to the playboy that she’d first suspected.
When he returned to her side, he led her out of the crowded part of the club and behind the stage where there was a roped-off area. There were not a lot of people back here—in fact, it took her a few moments to notice it was just the two of them.
He handed her the water and she drank it down, grateful for it after all the dancing they’d done.
“I love this view,” he said, pulling her closer to the railing that ran around the edge of the roof.
She glanced out over Little Havana and toward the Miami skyline. She could make out the bright lights on the Four Seasons Hotel, which was the largest building in Florida. It was a breathtaking view.
“I can see why,” she said. “Tell me about this club and how you ended up here.”
He arched one eyebrow at her. “I would have thought that was all common knowledge.”
She shook her head. “Not really. I mean I know the headlines and the speculation, but I want to know the real story. Why did Nate Stern leave baseball to help run a club in South Florida with his brothers instead of pursuing a career in front of the camera?”
She finished her glass of water and set it down on the wrought-iron table. Nate took her arm and led her farther away from the club sounds as the deejay played Santana. There was a padded bench set amongst some tall trees. The night breeze surrounded them and she felt more comfortable in her own skin than she had in years.
“If I tell you my secrets will you tell me yours?” he asked.
She nodded. “I’m not nearly as interesting as you, but if you want to know about me, I will tell you if you get me a mojito.”
“Good.”
After a brief trip to the bar, he came back and he handed her the mojito, then gestured for her to sit down. He sat next to her, stretching his long arm behind her on the bench and drawing her closer to him.
Nate didn’t like to talk too much about the old days. He did it with guys like T.J. because they expected him to and frankly that was the only thing he and T.J. had in common. The old days.
But reminiscing about what was instead of focusing on what is had never seemed wise to him.
“I think you asked about why I’m here,” he said.
“I did. I’ve always thought…well, since I started working at the club you seem the least likely to actually be happy here in Miami. Why didn’t you stay in New York or head to L.A.?”
He shrugged. He’d thought about it. But to be honest, he had been injured and unsure and he’d needed the support of his brothers around him. And frankly, they weren’t going to give up their homes to move across the country.
“It just felt right,” he said.
She laughed as she turned to look up at him. “I can’t believe you made a decision based on your gut. I mean one that would change your life.”
“Why not? When I played baseball I made gut decisions all the time.” It was one of the things he thought had made him stand out.
“I never thought about it like that.”
“Most people don’t. So that’s it. My brothers were here. I’d invested in the club so I technically had a job, at least on paper, and my sports career was over so I came home.”
“You sum it up like you are stating facts,” she said, her voice soft and pensive. “Was it really that easy or did you struggle to give up your dream?”