Dear Max,

Jenny looked down at the blue ink on the creamy white notepaper, picked it up, crumpled it into a ball, and tossed it into the trash. She reached for the tea she’d brewed in her favorite mug and looked around her apartment for inspiration, but there was none to be found.

To Max,

Better. Less personal. And less aggressive than the names she really wanted to call him. Murderer. Sociopath. Predator.

Jenny tapped her pen between her teeth. What came next? She caught sight of the small picture she had of her and her mom. Memories came flooding back, of him urging her mom to drink the vile liquid that had poisoned her. Frantically, she began to write.

I have no intention of coming to see you and ask that you never contact me again. The seventeen years have been nowhere near long enough to deal with the trauma you caused. You grinned as Mom’s heart stopped, you asshole. I have no interest in seeing you or having any kind of relationship with you. Please respect my wishes.

Jenny

There. Short but sweet.

Before she could change her mind, she slipped the paper into the envelope she’d already addressed and placed a stamp on.

She’d mail it to him on her way to work. Tonight, she’d celebrate sending it by picking up takeout and a bottle of Zinfandel on the way home.

As she pulled on her coat, she thought about the conversation she’d had with Nik the previous evening. After their heartfelt talk, it had felt as though someone had sucked all the air out of her. Nik was right—talking about that night was the bottom. While nothing could make up for the fact that he’d cheated on her, knowing the context helped her process it.

She grabbed her bag and keys and stepped out of the apartment. There was a nip in the air, and she made a mental note to start carrying her gloves. For as long as she could, she wanted to walk the short distance to the home.

Her hands shook momentarily as she dropped the letter into the mailbox.

Her thoughts drifted back to Nik. Knowing he’d been under tremendous pressure had, in a sad way, been a comfort. It had been the teeniest bit better than finding out he’d simply had enough of her and grabbed the first groupie skank he could get his hands on. It didn’t make it right, but it made it . . . gah. She didn’t have the right word. “Understandable” and “relatable” were too forgiving. But something in her had bent a little as she’d watched him apologize.

They’d packed up and driven home in silence, but when he’d dropped her at her apartment, he’d hurried around to open her car door. When she’d stepped toward the house, he’d reached for her wrist as he’d always done, and she remembered his words as clearly as if he was standing in front of her right now.

“I can’t take away the pain I caused, but I want to dilute the shit out of it by being there for you over and over and over. Even if we never get past this. Even if we can’t get back what we had. I’m going to be right here for you, every time you need me.”

She let herself into the home, where Simon was in the kitchen with Albi clearing up after breakfast. “Good morning,” she called out.

“Glad you’re here,” Simon said, walking toward her so he was out of Albi’s earshot. “Could do with a hand. Thomas and Harry are not ready for school. Emotionally, I mean.”

“I’m on it,” Jenny said, and parked all thoughts of Nik. She ran up the stairs, ready to help. Deep inside, she knew she’d give these children her all, and usually that was all that mattered. But she was equally aware that she was in her probationary period with the city and was determined to make a good impression.

Seven hours later, Jenny looked down at the lasagna she’d just prepared. She wouldn’t bake it yet, but it would save time that evening. It was movie night, and she was going to let Leon pick in recognition of how hard he’d practiced on the drums since Lennon had left, saying the home could keep the kit. Every day when he got home from school, Leon hurried through his homework so he could get to his drums. Ellen had been stunned by the revelation. Apparently homework had been something they’d argued over daily.

The Very Best of Fleetwood Mac had been her go-to album in the days since Nik visited the home. It had been painful to listen to at first because of the memories attached to the songs. One of the ladies who had moved into the compound to become one of her father’s heavenly brides—as he called them—had brought a CD player and a very eclectic mix of music. They’d been allowed to play it when they were doing chores in the kitchen. Stevie Nicks had always looked so cool on the CD covers, and Jenny had secretly wanted to be her when she grew up. One day, they’d listened to “Everywhere” while one of the women crimped Jenny’s hair to look like Stevie’s.

The kitchen had always been a safe place, the one place the men in the compound never ventured. It had been somewhere for the women to speak freely without fear of reprisals. As the prophet, her father—who had asked people to call him Akasha, the Sanskrit word for “sky” or “space”—had been able to sleep with whomever he’d wanted. She hadn’t realized back then exactly why those women had walked in and out of her father’s room at random times of day, but as an adult, she now understood why her mother had become more and more ostracized by the other women. In the kitchen, the women shared their graphic stories with pride. She’d kneaded bread to Lynne’s explicit retelling of the threesome she’d participated in to enable Jenny’s father to meditate the day before the mass suicide. She’d scrambled a huge bowl of eggs while Lisa boldly told them how she’d been taken by every member of Jenny’s father’s inner circle to help them achieve mental clarity. Even though she was older now, Jenny still couldn’t imagine what it must be like to be violated by a group of men that way.

If Lisa hadn’t seen sense and escaped, if she hadn’t told the police what had been happening at the commune, there was no doubt in Jenny’s mind that she would have been murdered. She’d once asked her lawyer what had changed Lisa’s mind and had been shocked to find out that Lisa had been pregnant. A DNA test had shown that one of her father’s inner circle members was the father.

The women had envied and hated Jenny in equal measure. As the attractive daughter of Akasha, many of the men had watched her though none dared touch. And as she got older, the camaraderie and safety she’d once felt in the kitchen had been replaced with sly looks and whispered comments, especially when she’d turned ten and began to blossom early.

One day, she had walked into the living room where an older man with a big belly had been on his knees behind Kathryn, one of the younger women, thrusting viciously. Ugly red handprints stained her skin. “Now do you understand what it will be like?” she grunted. “Are you ready for this?”

The man had laughed and slapped Kathryn’s butt so hard that she’d fallen forward.

The same feeling of shame she’d experienced back then flooded through Jenny now, and she breathed deeply to clear her mind.

She jumped as the boys bounded in through the door and she used their voices and teasing of one another to anchor her back into the kitchen in the home. A safe kitchen in a safe place. The kids were always hyper on Fridays. It was a feeling she remembered. Friday had always meant she was one more sleep away from spending more time with Nik.

“How was your day?” she asked as Leon hurried into the kitchen and grabbed an apple from the bowl. He dropped a copy of the free paper from the transit onto the table, and she pulled it toward her.

“Boring. Mr. Elm gave us so much math homework, I’ll be lucky if I finish it before the end of term, let alone the weekend.”

“Let me know if you need any help with it.” Although she hoped he didn’t. The last couple of sets of homework had almost been outside of her capabilities. “What about you, Albi? Has there been any blowback from what happened a couple of weeks ago?” she asked, referring to the incident by the SkyDome.

Albi shook his head. “Those boys haven’t been around. Do you think Nik went and found them?”

“I’m not sure, Albi. But we can ask him when we next see him.”

He moved toward the table, then stopped and looked back at her. “It helped, you know. Knowing I could call Nik.” Quickly he turned back to the table and pulled out a chair.

She thought about what Nik had said, about being a father to all of them back then, and she wondered if Nik realized he still did that today. To his brothers and to the children in her care.

The boys sat down at the large kitchen table and began to pull out their books. They knew the drill. Movie night didn’t begin until the last one seated at the table had finished his homework. That was usually Ravi because the kid could barely focus for longer than fifteen minutes despite his current medication. She had it in her planner as one of the things to talk to the doctor about. Her own preference was always to keep dosages as light as possible and use other methods to develop the skills needed to function properly in life. But Ravi’s teacher had called her just that morning to say that he’d been disruptive again with his constant chatter and need to get up and move around the classroom.

While they were busy, she considered getting the Christmas decorations out of the garage, but it was so dark outside she decided to wait until tomorrow. Plus, that would give her the opportunity to take the boys with her to pick out a tree.

It was hard to believe that Christmas was only a month away. Perhaps she’d encourage the boys to work their way through the Christmas movies starting tonight.

Jenny opened the paper and flicked through it. Not much happening. There was another pending garbage strike, and someone had left poisoned meat out for dogs in the park, which was just sick. She turned to the entertainment page. “Preload Guitarist’s Raciest Video Yet.” The grainy image showed him in bed with two women. Jenny forced herself to take a deep breath and do what Ellen had suggested. She looked at the tattoos.

There was no ink on his right arm, which was full now. She took out her phone and googled “Nikan.” Image after image popped up, and she picked one that she thought he looked younger in, and she could see that Nik had both arms tattooed. It was from the 2011 Grammys, which meant the video really was old.

It was cold comfort though. She balled up the paper and threw it into the recycling.

As the boys worked, Jenny stayed available to help with any questions but killed time by prepping the veggies required for dinner the next day. While the boys had a schedule for assisting with cooking and cleaning and other household chores, she liked helping whoever was on duty with meal prep.

As usual, Ravi was first up, but his math homework was almost impossible to follow.

“I can see what you were trying to do, Ravi. And it looks like this, this, and this are actually correct,” she said, pointing to random numbers dotted around the sheet. “But I think your teacher is going to have a hard time following along, and you know you get marks for showing your process. Do you think you could perhaps structure it a little better?”

“I can help him,” Leon said, pushing his pile to one side. Even though he’d complained about his own workload, he was willing to stop to help Ravi? It was the first time she’d seen Leon offer to do anything.

One by one, they began to leave the table and show her their homework so she could check it. When Leon was the last man standing, she offered him a deal. “You’re on breakfast tomorrow, right?”

“Mm-hmm.” He didn’t look up from his notebook.

“Because you were so good with Ravi, I’m going to take your shift so you can finish your math in the morning.”

This time he did look up. “For real?”

“For real, Leon. It was really good of you to help, and you spent quite a bit of time with him. I’m proud of you for doing that.”

For a moment, Leon had looked as if he was about to smile, but as quickly as Jenny had noticed, it was gone. He slammed his books shut, shoved them into his pack, and hurried to his room. Five o’clock and the kitchen was quiet again. Soon, though, there would be the thunder of footsteps down the stairs asking what was for dinner and pestering her to let them be the one to pick the movie they were all going to watch together, even though she’d already chosen Leon.

Jenny looked down at her watch, figured she had enough time to make a quick call, and hurried to the office before she could chicken out. She grabbed her phone and pulled up Nik’s number.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he said, sounding breathless.

“Did I catch you at a bad time?” she asked, unable to stop the negative voice in her head from listing all the reasons he could be breathing heavily at four in the afternoon. “You’re out of breath. I mean, I can call back, or you could . . .”

“No, you are saving me from sanding drywall joint compound,” he said with a laugh that stopped suddenly. “Wait. What did you think I was doing?”

“Nothing,” she answered a little too quickly and then sighed. “Okay. I thought you might be busy . . . you know . . .”

“Shit. No. Fuck. I swear, Jenny, you are making me nervous. And I can’t remember the last time I got nervous around a girl. I just . . . I was sanding away, and my phone buzzes, and I see your name and it takes my breath away and I get stupid.”

Confidence Nik had never lacked. In fact, his confidence bordered on cocky. She’d always felt insecure around him, especially as his fame had grown. This was new.

“Let me try this. The next person I sleep with is going to be you, because you are the only woman I want to sleep with. It’s you or no one, babe,” he said. “If I’m ever out of breath because of that, you’ll know about it because you’ll be right there with me . . . beneath me, on top of—”

“Nik,” she cried. She wanted to be mad at his flirting, but she couldn’t ignore the flutter in her tummy at the thought of what he’d suggested. Sex between the two of them had always been incredible. “That might never happen.”

“So, I’m gonna be celibate for a fucking long time then, which is good because I have a shit-ton of sanding to do to take mind off you. Maybe I’ll get my writing mojo back.”

“Nik . . .” What was there to say to that?

“I mean it, babe. It’s you or nothing. What did you need?”

Why had she called? Oh. Yes. “I was just checking in, and Albi told me that knowing he could rely on you really helped him the other day. I just wanted to let you know.”

There was silence on the other end for a moment. “That’s good to hear,” he said finally. “They need every lifeline they can get, don’t they?”

“They do,” she agreed. “We did, didn’t we?”

“Even if we were sometimes too stupid to see a lifeline when one came along.”

Jenny laughed. “Yeah. We weren’t always the smartest.”

“Come on a date with me tomorrow, Jenny. Catch up with me. The good stuff this time.”

A battle of wills fought inside. She couldn’t. They were water under the bridge. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”

“Think of it as a business meeting. We were thinking of offering to convert the group home’s garage into a rehearsal space for the boys. You and I can talk about it.”

“You should really talk to Ellen about that.”

“I know. But if it gets you to sit across from me at a place that serves food, I’ll use it.”

His words shouldn’t excite her like they did. It was so wrong. “It can’t be a date,” she replied. “But maybe we should talk. Clear the air. Set some boundaries. It’s clear we are going to see each other over the next couple of months. We could do lunch.”

Nik laughed. “I’ll take you anyway I can get you. But not lunch. I have rehearsals during the day. Let me come get you after work tomorrow.”

The saying “playing with fire” popped into her head. She knew she was. But she still found herself saying yes.

* * *

Nik jacked the volume on his phone and placed it on the window ledge of apartment number three. Depeche Mode’s “Enjoy the Silence” echoed through the empty room, competing with the whir of drills and the thud of hammers from upstairs. First-floor apartments one and two were going to be converted into a massive entertaining space and would be the last to be done. Third-floor apartments five and six were going to be his master suite. Leo and his crew were upstairs working on the master bedroom, walk-in closet, state-of-the-art bathroom, and luxury living area. Those floors were easy. They were for him as he was right now. As was the basement, which was going to become his own gym, recording studio, and movie room.

But the second floor. . . . He picked up the sledgehammer and hit the wall that opened onto the main hallway. The second floor was an aspiration, a hope for the future. The second floor would have extra rooms that had initially been tagged as guest rooms, maybe a fun music space for composing. But now that he had knocked the walls down, he imagined children’s bedrooms and could visualize an office for Jenny.

It was fucking stupid.

It was fucking possible.

It was way too early in his journey with Jenny to assume it was going to work out. Rebuilding trust wasn’t a light switch, something you could flick on and off. Trust took an age to build and a moment to destroy. But he was willing to put the work in.

He put on his safety goggles, raised the sledgehammer over his shoulder, and swung, smashing through old drywall. It was too easy to swing the hammer to the beat of the song. In a parallel universe, this was the kind of music he would record and sing. Something more fused to the great bands of the eighties. Depeche Mode, The Cure, Simple Minds. More of his own lyrics, more of him singing instead of being resigned to backup. He could never outsing Dred when it came to metal, but he craved something more melodic.

Or maybe he was just getting fucking old.

He swung the hammer again, and the drywall broke apart into the hall. Among the debris, he spotted something red. He put the hammer down and walked through the door.

In the rubble was a bundle of papers tied together with a ribbon.

Nik crouched down wiped some dust off it. A name and address in a flourished cursive script looked like they’d been written with a fountain pen.

Mrs. Avaline Redmont

The address was his own.

Carefully, he untied the red ribbon and took the top envelope from the pile. It had been neatly opened. Somebody had obviously taken care and used a letter opener. He slid the sheet of paper out of the envelope.

My dear Avaline,

I am a rotter for asking you to marry me the way that I did. I am quite certain that I ought to have waited until the war was over, but you see I have loved you for such a long time, since I was a schoolboy, and who knows how long this dreadful war will continue. I suppose I simply couldn’t bear the idea of you not being mine for a moment longer. Or perhaps, selfishly worse, that you would find another suitor in my absence, and that I should survive all of this only to come home to find you taken. That, for me, would be a pain far greater than anything that could happen to me on a battlefield in France.

One day soon, we will be reunited, and hopefully we can make time for our honeymoon. Perhaps even a trip to Ottawa to stay in our nation’s great capital. But until then I will keep your photograph in my pocket and my love for you soundly in my heart to get me through the arduous days ahead.

Farewell, my love,

Wilfred

Nik read the letter through again. If he wasn’t mistaken—although granted, Canadian history had been his least favorite subject at school given its colonial spin—the letter was dated from the Great War, making it a hundred years old.

He flipped through the rest of the envelopes, each addressed the same way. Each sent to Avaline Redmont.

A part of him wanted to put down the sledgehammer and spend the day reading the rest of them, but he had things to do. Carefully, he tied the ribbon around the letters and placed them on the window ledge in the hallway. Perhaps he could attempt to find out whether Avaline and Wilfred had ever had children and hand the letters over to them. If he couldn’t, they might as well go to a museum or a library or someplace that would want them.

Later on that evening, Nik drove over to the group home to collect Jenny. His body ached from the few hours he’d put in demolishing unnecessary walls on the second floor and from five hours of rehearsal for the band’s Canadian tour. The rehearsal had been somewhat productive as they’d attempted to implement some changes to the set to suit the Canadian audience and venues better than the European version of it would. Unfortunately, nobody had been overly focused. Dred had been late from a prenatal appointment with Pixie; Jordan was attached to his phone, struggling with the fact that Lexi was in New York on a tour of her own with the ballet company; and Elliott was in a rush to leave because Daniel had a guitar exam that evening and he wanted to make sure he was there to give the kid support. All of which Nik had been envious of, while Lennon had found it to be a constant source of ways to have a dig at the guys.

A bauble wreath, newly added, decorated the front door, and he could hear screaming and laughter from inside the home as he walked up the steps to knock.

The door burst open, and Jenny appeared, her jeans soaked to the knees, her arms covered in soapy bubbles. Wet splashes soaked through her T-shirt, and by the look on her face, it probably wouldn’t be a good idea to tell her that they made it transparent. The pretty white lace looked good on her.

“Oh my God, Nik,” she said, as she reached for his arm and dragged him into the house. Leon and Albi stood in hysterics at the top of the stairs to the basement. Their pants were rolled up to their knees. “Quick. The washing machine is pumping water all over the floor, and I don’t know where the water shut-off is . . . and there are electrical sockets. So, don’t die. And the wood floor is going to—”

“I got this,” he said, planting a quick kiss on her forehead. Jenny pushed him away, her eyes bright with laughter, and looked over at the boys, who had clearly seen what he’d done. He kicked his custom-collaboration Nike sneakers off because there was no way in hell he was ruining those bad boys, tugged off his socks, and turned up the hems of his jeans. The steps to the basement were dry as he hurried down them. Soapy water covered the floor, making it slippery, but worse, detergent bubbles were spewing into the air. Fortunately, he’d lived in the home long enough to know where the tap was. Carefully, he made his way to a small panel alongside the basement bathroom. He pulled it open and turned the tap off before switching the washing machine off at the power socket.

“Did you find it?” Jenny asked, stepping down into the water.

She slipped as she got close to him, and he reached for her hand to steady her as she stepped gingerly toward him in her bare feet.

“I did,” he said.

Her skin was soft beneath his fingers. The color in her cheeks was high, and she looked at him like he was a goddamn hero. Like she used to.

“Oh my God. It’s one of the only things Ellen didn’t write down, and she’s at the hospital today so I couldn’t get hold of her. And the kids had no clue where it was.” She looked around the basement and giggled. One of the things he’d always loved about her was her ability to roll with the punches. He knew how much time it had taken her in therapy to get to a place where she could do that, and knew she’d woken enough in the night with nightmares from which he’d spent hours bringing her down. She’d done the same for him when, in sleep, he’d relived the way his mother’s breathing had begun to gurgle in the moments before she died.

Jenny’s eyes looked more green than brown today, and she studied Nik with them, trying to bite her lip before bursting out laughing. “Oh my God. I’m so sorry, Nik.” She stepped onto her toes and grabbed a cluster of bubbles from his head. Her breast brushed against his chest, and it was all he could do to stop himself from grabbing hold of her and keeping her there, pressed to him. As quickly as she’d stepped up to him, she stepped away and looked down at the hem of his jeans. “I hope our plans didn’t include anything fancy.”

Nik couldn’t help but grin too. “Nothing that can’t be changed,” he said.

Jenny looked around the room. “I don’t know that tonight is going to work. These guys need dinner, we need a plumber, and I need to handle whatever clothing is in the machine. I guess we should get this all cleaned up,” she said, but he kept hold of her arms. “Including me,” she said, looking down at her own damp clothes.

“I don’t know. I kinda like you all wet and soapy.” Knowing she was watching, he ran his eyes over her body, taking in the see-through patches on her T-shirt. “Wet is definitely a good look on you,” he said and ran the tip of his finger along the V-neck.

She slapped her hand over his, stopping the path, but didn’t remove it. “Nik,” she gasped, the breathiness reminded him of the way she’d call out his name when she was close to coming. He noticed a tattoo on her arm. THIS TOO SHALL PASS. She’d gotten it after. After him. After bravely leaving and finding her own way. Without him. Without anyone. The thought that she needed reminding of that burned through him.

She looked toward the stairs where he could hear the boys ripping on each other and laughing while her heart raced beneath his hand. And, goddamn, if her eyes weren’t heavy-lidded when she turned to face him. When she pulled her bottom lip between her teeth as she looked at his mouth, he knew he was a goner.

“If you don’t want me to kiss you right now,” he said, “you’d better push me away with that hand of yours.”

He waited for her answer. Eight years of searching, of wondering and worrying, had boiled down to this minute, and as much as he wanted to taste her lips again, feel her sigh against his mouth, it was . . . special. It was fucking everything, and he wanted to remember every single precious moment. But first he needed her consent.

“Nik,” she whispered.

“Is that a yes, Jenny? Because I don’t want to fuck this up.” He moved his hand to cup her cheek, his heart flipping over as she leaned into it.

“I don’t know . . .” she whispered, and he could see the two parts of her warring.

He didn’t move, didn’t say a word, just held her gaze. He’d stand there on a wet floor in a dark basement for as long as she needed him to.

Her eyes glistened with unshed tears, and just when he thought his heart was going to crack wide open in front of her, she whispered, “Yes.”

“I missed you,” he said. “I missed every fucking thing about you.” Nik took a deep breath, nerves filling every part of him, and his hand shook before he lowered his lips to hers.

In that moment, he was sixteen, kissing her after sharing a Tim Hortons sour cream glazed doughnut. . . . Seventeen, wishing she was old enough to show just how much her body pressed to his meant to him. . . . Eighteen, on the rug in the old apartment, about to make love with her for the first time. . . . Nineteen, kissing her goodbye to go on the band’s first road trip. . . . God, he could keep going.

Her eyes fluttered closed, her hands tightening their grip on his waist. Nik ran his hand up her spine until he could hold the back of her neck tenderly. She was familiar, yet new. And his chest was about to burst open from the potential of everything they could become.

Her hands threaded into his hair and tugged gently, just how he loved it. Her mouth opened to his, and his tongue found hers, savoring her, tasting.

Standing on the wet floor, he found the one thing he’d been searching for.

Home.

* * *

Even though what she was doing wasn’t rooted in self-preservation, Jenny couldn’t pull away.

It was foolish not to resist the pull between the two of them more firmly, but even if she could have figured out how to, she wouldn’t have wanted to.

Suddenly everything in her world was righted.

She gasped as his hand gripped her hip, pulling her tight against him. His erection pressed intimately against her, and it took every bit of control not to rub against it.

Nik deepened the kiss, his tongue dipped inside her mouth, and her chest squeezed with the familiarity of it, recognizing the longing she’d had for him all those years.

Nik’s hand slipped under her T-shirt, skimming the inch of skin by the hem, and she desperately wanted him to undo her bra and take her nipples into his mouth and—

“I thought you’d need the mop and bucket.” Leon.

Quickly, Jenny pushed Nik away and straightened her top just before Leon reached the bottom step and turned the corner. “Great idea,” she said breathlessly.

Nik leaned back against the dryer and rubbed the index and middle finger of his right hand over his lips, a sexy-as-all-hell smirk on his face. The same look he used to give her when they’d gotten busted by Ellen for kissing in the old garage.

“Why don’t you start at this end and work it back toward the machine? I’ll go see if I can find some old towels.” Jenny hurried up the stairs and to the cupboard where all the cloths were kept. She pressed her forehead against it and took a couple of breaths. It hadn’t occurred to her that being intimate with him again would be even more . . . everything . . . than it had been before. She needed to get herself under control before she headed back downstairs. How could the two pieces of herself be so disconnected? A part of her could still remember the way she’d dropped to her knees struggling for breath when she’d found out what he’d done, and another part desperately wanted Nik to press her up against the wall and take her until she fell apart in his arms. It made no sense.

Jenny yanked open the cupboard door just as Simon arrived. “What the heck happened to you?”

The kiss had made her forget she was actually wearing wet jeans. At least she hoped he was referring to the jeans, and not the flush she could feel heating her cheeks that she was certain had turned them a deep pink. “I think the washing machine just gave up the ghost. Leon is down there mopping up. Thankfully Nik arrived because I had no idea where the water cut-off was.”

“I’ll deal with that first then take care of dinner,” he said, shucking his coat and hanging it in the staff closet.

“No, no. I’ll stay and help. You cook, I’ll deal with the machine,” Jenny replied, grabbing the phone off the wall. Fortunately, Ellen had a list of emergency contacts tacked to a notice board on the wall. She called the number for emergency repairs, made sure someone was coming out, and headed back downstairs, taking a moment before she rounded the corner to see Nik again to collect herself. To reestablish the walls she’d built around her heart.

Leon had made quick work of mopping up the worst of the water, but the towels would help dry out the rest. “Thanks so much for helping out, Leon. I really appreciate your help today.”

The boy shrugged like it was no big deal and jogged back up the stairs. She listened to the footsteps until he reached the main floor, wondering if they were approaching some kind of breakthrough with him. From sullen to helping with homework and chores without being asked. God, she could only hope so.

“You want to give me a couple of those?” Nik said, offering his hand toward the towels she still carried.

There was so much to be read into the smile on his face. The smile told her that he was happy, but it was the optimism in his dark eyes that threatened to undo her. She didn’t know, though, how to begin to explain that loving him and trusting him were two completely different things. Maybe things would be clearer if she could sort it out without him being there. “I can take care of it, and someone should be here within the hour to look at the washing machine. I’m sorry it ruined our plans, but maybe we can take a rain check.”

“That’s okay,” Nik replied. “Like I said, the plans were flexible, and I don’t mind helping out and waiting until things are taken care of. And if that means a new washing machine, I’m more than happy to change plans and take you out to buy a new one.”

He took a step closer to her to reach for a towel, but she stepped to the side. “There’s no point both of us killing time here. You should go home and get some more work done on your house or something.”

Nik took the towels out of her hands and placed them on the dryer. “Hey, come here,” he said as he reached for her hands. “Talk to me.”

She wasn’t ready to, not least because she didn’t understand the swirl of feelings sweeping through her. To put into words for Nik exactly how that felt was impossible. “I’m fine, I’m good. I just have a lot to do here now.”

Nik placed his finger under her chin and raised her eyes so she was forced to look at him. “I think we can safely say that lies have no place between us. So, I’ll tell you what I’m thinking, and then you can tell me what you’re thinking. Okay?”

Jenny sighed and nodded. “Okay.”

“I didn’t come here tonight expecting to kiss you like this. I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t thought about it, but I know I have a lot of work to do to prove myself to you. But seeing you laugh, and seeing you look at me, just for a moment, without the pain I caused you in your eyes . . . Well, I don’t even know how to begin to explain what that felt like to me—except that I didn’t want to be away from you for another moment, and that it felt like a new beginning of sorts. If there’s any doubt in your mind about what that kiss did to me, I’d encourage you to touch me and check, but I think that might be a step too far, given where we are. Now it’s your turn.”

His words made her stomach flip, and despite her best efforts she was filled with a warm and fuzzy feeling. She looked over to the staircase again to check that nobody was within earshot. “We’re coming at this new friendship . . . relationship . . . from two completely different places. I’m mad at myself for letting you get this close to me again. It’s reckless to fall for you all over again and I know it. But when you stand so close to me, I can . . .” Crap. How could she explain that the way the smell of him, and the heat of him, and the proximity of him, and the touch of him took her straight back to that time and place where she wholeheartedly loved him?

“You can what?” Nik asked, moving his hands to her hips.

“I can remember us. Before.”

Nik took her hand and kissed the back of it. “Thank you for being honest with me.”

“What happens now, Nik?” she asked quietly.

“We get the washing machine fixed, and I drive you home so we can both sleep on what happened.”

Two hours later, with the machine emptied and new parts on order, Jenny officially said goodbye to Simon and the boys who were still out of bed while Nik waited by the front door, one foot resting against the wall.

“Are you sure about dropping me home?” she asked. “I’m dry now, and I can—”

“Just get your things, Jenny,” he said gruffly, reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear.

“Okay.” She slipped away from him and walked to the office in an attempt to appear calmer than she was. Quickly, she shoved everything she needed into her purse and returned to the hall.

“Ready?” he asked.

“Ready.”

She let him take her hand as he led her to the car. As much as she knew it was make believe, what had happened in the basement had felt like a whisper of hope. “I meant to say this the other night, but your car has certainly changed over the years,” she said.

Nik laughed. “I think everything has, babe. I can’t wait to show you just how much.”

They drove the short distance to her place in silence, and Nik parked alongside the curb. Jenny reached for the door, but Nik stopped her. “Let me get that.” He jumped out of the car and hurried to her side. “I hadn’t realized how much I missed the honor of walking you home.”

She stepped out of the vehicle and felt a rush of nervous butterflies in her stomach. He’d always kissed as though he was never going to see her again, and she wondered if he remembered, if he was thinking about the same thing. They walked together to the door on the side of the building. The darkness and high hedges that surrounded the entry were the only things she hated about her new home.

When they got to the door, she fumbled in her purse for her key.

“Remember how we used to say goodbye?” he asked, way too close to the sweet spot just behind her ear. The spot he knew drove her crazy. “Do you have any clue how hard it was to walk back to the home with the hard-on you’d give me, how hard it was to take care of myself when I got into bed without you?”

He pressed his lips to her cool skin, and she shivered at the contact. She tried to speak, but her throat was dry. Nik’s arms wrapped around her, pulling her back against him. Even through her jacket, she could feel the warmth of his chest against her back.

Her purse slid off her shoulder, and she allowed it to drop to the floor before placing her hand on top of Nik’s as his lips skimmed her jaw.

“Nik,” she gasped.

“Fuck, you feel so good pressed up against me, Jenny. Every part of you feels so familiar and yet so freaking new. I don’t want to push you. I just want you to know just how badly I want you.”

She tilted her head to one side to give him better access as he ground his erection firmly against her lower back. Memories of how good it had felt to be taken by him, to allow him to slide in and out of her until he had them both crying out in ecstasy, filled her.

“I get that you don’t trust me, but let me take care of you, of us, anyway I can until I prove to you I’m worth trusting. Even if it takes another eight years.” His hands slipped lower until he cupped her gently and Jenny was unable to hold back the moan.

Unable to stop herself, she turned slightly in his arms to find his mouth, and when she did she kissed him exactly how she wanted to with no inhibitions.

“Fuck,” Nik murmured against her lips. “If this isn’t going all the way, we gotta stop,” he said, loosening his hold on her but not stepping away. “Because if we don’t, I’m going to make love to you right here, and that’s definitely not the way I imagined our first time back together going.”

Jenny’s heart slammed against her chest, and she was barely able to breathe. “This is all so . . . confusing. I don’t know how I can want you like this and still . . .”

Nik held her close and touched his forehead to hers. His hands ran up and down her spine as they swayed gently from side to side, the passion ebbing away from them as they came to their senses. “I can’t tell you what to do,” he said quietly. “All I can do is tell you what I hope for. Let me try to put the pieces of us back together. Let me show you how I can fix me, so you never have to doubt me again. And if after all that you don’t want me, I’ll go. But please, let me try.”