Free Confessions of a Girl-Next-Door by Jackie Braun Page A

noon. Noon! By her calculations, she’d slept nearly a dozen hours. How on earth had she managed to sleep that long? Sure, she was jet-lagged. But back home she routinely ran on four to five hours of sleep a night, and even that, lately, had been punctuated with bouts of wakefulness.
    Dressed in a pair of white capris, a crisp cotton blouse the color of raspberries and the burnished silver gladiator sandals that she’d picked up after attending a fashion show in Milan, she headed downstairs. As she’dalready determined, Hank was nowhere to be found. He’d probably flown to the mainland hours ago, which meant she had no way back. At least not right now. Which meant she was at Nate’s mercy. She wasn’t sure how she felt about that.
    In the kitchen, there was exactly one cup of coffee left in the maker. Though she preferred tea, she didn’t feel like rooting around in Nate’s cupboards to see if he had any. She poured the coffee for herself, shut off the pot and instantly felt guilty. Americans liked their coffee, or so her mother claimed. Nearly thirty years in Morenci and Olivia still eschewed tea in favor of a nice cup of Colombian. She could drink a pot by herself, all while complaining about the effects of caffeine on one’s body and complexion.
    Holly decided to make a second pot. She would bring a cup out to Nate. It would be a peace offering of sorts …. A thank-you, she amended. She eyed the maker dubiously. As enamoured as she was with prospect of cooking, she didn’t have much skill in the kitchen.
Much
as in next to none. Anytime she attempted something remotely culinary her mother would remind her they had “staff” to deal with that.
    Thus, Holly also had little experience when it came to small appliances, and this looked nothing like the ones she’d glimpsed in the palace kitchens. Still, it seemed simple enough. Besides, the brewing instructions were listed on the inside of the lid that opened where she had to add the water. How hard could it be? Only an idiot could screw it up.
    It turned out Holly was an idiot.
    One look at Nate’s face after he took the first sip and she knew it for a fact.
    God bless him, the man managed to swallow what he had in his mouth rather than spit it out in sprinkler fashion. But his grimace spoke volumes.
    “That’s … a little strong,” he said after a moment.
    “I followed the directions,” she countered as the identical-looking young men standing on either side of Nate studied their sneakers.
    “Let me guess. You used the scoop in the coffee jar as your measure.”
    “Of course I did.”
    “It’s double the amount.”
    “How was I supposed …?” She let the question trail off and crossed her arms over her chest instead. “Real men like it strong.”
    Nate blinked at that. The teens eyed oneanother, their expressions all but asking, “Did she really just say that?” From what Holly knew of the American teenage boy’s vernacular, she added, “Dude.”
    “I like my coffee strong,” Nate said in seeming agreement.
    “Good.”
    “I just prefer to have my stomach lining left intact afterward.”
    Delivered as it was in that even pitch of his, with the beginnings of a smile turning up the corners of his lips, it was hard to take offense. Impossible, in fact. Holly dissolved into giggles. The boys joined in her laughter, too, but only once Nate had let out a snort of amusement. As one who appreciated loyalty, she instantly liked them.
    “Sorry,” she said at last. “Truly, I wasn’t trying to poison you.”
    “It’s okay.” He tossed the rest of the coffee to the ground and handed back the cup. “I appreciate the effort.”
    Whether intended as a peace offering or as a thank-you, the coffee seemed to do the trick. Some of the old ease they’d had with one another returned.
    Nate seemed to remember his manners. “Josh and Joey Burns, this is … Holly. Sheused to come to the island a lot as a kid. She’s back now for a short visit.”
    She