The Best Kind of Trouble
Page 30

 Lauren Dane

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“You’re not even going to ask if she’d sign a prenup?” Mary asked, repressing a smile.
“She’s got a trust fund that’s worth more than I am.” Paddy waved a hand. “I’m probably the one who should sign one.”
Anger and worry warred inside her. That was something she should have shared, or not. Money made people feel differently about you. She wanted them to know her before they found out about the trust fund. It was hard to fight preconceived notions, and it just added to the weight of establishing a relationship with other people.
* * *
PADDY FELT THE muscles in her back tighten, and she moved away from him slightly. Shit. He’d done something wrong. Was it the teasing? Maybe he should have punched Vaughan. His brother was only playing, but he didn’t want Natalie to feel bad.
The prenup talk?
She’d gone a little more formal in her manner, and his mother shot him a look.
Ezra started talking about his goats, which shifted the conversation, and she relaxed a little but never completely moved back against him like she was before.
They stayed another hour. When his parents got up to leave, he and Natalie walked out with them. She was warm to his mother and father, but once they’d gone around the corner, he stopped her before she could go back into the house.
“What’s wrong? You’re upset about something. Is it the teasing? Vaughan didn’t mean anything by it. He’s a shit stirrer. He wouldn’t have teased you if he didn’t like you.”
“I’m really uncomfortable with you telling everyone I have a trust fund. What your brothers know of me is pretty limited to who I am now, and your parents don’t know me at all. You just told them something deeply personal that could change the way they see me.”
Oh. Well, that wasn’t what he’d expected at all.
“I wanted her to know you had no financial interest in me. Not that way. She’s very protective of us. Worried people are trying to take advantage. I figured once she knew you had plenty of money, that wouldn’t be an issue.”
“She could have figured that out on her own. After all, she knows I volunteer and have a job here in town. She figured it out with Mary, who doesn’t have a trust fund obviously.”
“Why are you ashamed of it? Who cares? They don’t. I don’t.”
She poked her chest. “I do! It’s my business, Patrick. I want to decide if and when that information gets shared. Money is tricky. People hear you have a trust fund, and they assume you’re lazy. I like for people to know me for me. Knowing my net worth complicates things. I have to work against it.”
He took a deep breath, surprised by her vehemence. “None of us cares. Don’t you see?”
“You’re the one who isn’t seeing. I need to make my own choices. I told you this before. If and when I talk about money to someone, I’ll make that decision. This isn’t about how you feel, Paddy. It’s about how I feel. It’s an intimate fact, and it’s mine.”
He chewed his bottom lip and thought for a bit. He wasn’t sure how to make it better or all right, but she’d just given him some major insight, and he needed to really hear it. “Okay. I’m sorry.”
She crossed her arms over her chest. “Is this a real apology or are you just saying you’re sorry to get past this argument?”
“What difference does it make? You’re unhappy. I made you that way whether I meant to or not. I’m sorry you’re unhappy.”
Her brows flew up. “I’m sorry for how you feel is not a real apology. You can’t own my feelings. If you’re sorry, be sorry for what you did, not how I feel about it.”
“You’re being impossible.”
She shook her head and sighed. “Maybe I am.” She licked her lips as she paused and then spoke again. “I have a button, I admit it. I can’t deal with fauxpologies. You know the I’m sorry you feel that way statement which isn’t I’m sorry for what I did. I just... I guess I have a lot of buttons and issues.”
After being quiet awhile, she exhaled long and slow. “I think I’m going to head home. I’m going to say my goodbyes. I know how to get back to my car.”
He took her arm. “We were just making some headway and you’re leaving? Do you always run out on fights?”
Incredulous, she blinked back at him. “Do you think fighting is normal?”
She didn’t? “Yes, I do! It’s normal and healthy. Jesus.” He let go of her and shoved both hands through his hair. “I grew up in a house where my parents argued. Not every day. But they’re both strong people and they share a life, so sometimes they’d butt heads and they’d work it through. And they made it through. That’s normal and healthy. Should we just eat how we feel? Or do you believe people in relationships never fight about anything?”
* * *
THE PROBLEM WAS that Natalie didn’t know what normal was. Discomfort weighed her down. Off-kilter. Absolutely not under her control. Yet his question was valid and asked openly. She owed him an answer.
“To be totally honest with you? I have no idea. I can’t tell you what’s normal. I don’t know what I’m doing. You pissed me off, Paddy.”
“Okay, that’s fair. We’re going to fight sometimes, Nat. I’m a pain in the ass, so yeah, I pissed you off. Everyone has hot buttons. I can’t know yours unless you tell me or until we go through something like this, and I learn that way. I don’t judge you for your trust fund. I know you work hard. I know you volunteer in your community and so does my mother. That’s what counts in my world. I’m sorry my actions made you feel bad. I didn’t intend that at all. It was meant to say to my parents that they had nothing to worry about. But it is your personal business, and I did share it without asking, and for that I am sorry.”