Before I found Nash at the front door my paranoia had gotten the better of me. I felt jumpy, ill at ease, plagued by the consistent thought that I was being watched, though the curtains were closed and the only sound in the apartment was the ticking of an old mantle clock.
Emma had been crying when I picked her up early from preschool. Like any mother, my child’s tears were like a knife straight into my heart. But today there was something about the way she was crumpling up her little face that left me feeling more anxious than usual. She looked too much like her father when she cried.
I took her to the doctor although there was no medical mystery. One of the children had brought in donuts as a birthday treat and Emma had eaten more than her fair share. She wound up vomiting all over the crayon table but she was already feeling better by the time we got home. I gave her some ginger ale and plain toast and we watched episodes of her favorite cartoons.
Hours later, after she was asleep, the uneasy feeling wouldn’t leave me and I knew it had nothing to do with Emma’s stomach incident. This afternoon I’d nearly deleted an email to my business account from an address I didn’t recognize. I thought it was spam but then opened it on a whim.
Kat,
It’s been a long time. And I need to talk to you.
Harrison
Dread can surge through the bloodstream in an instant. My stomach dropped and my heart began pounding. I stared at the email and then deleted it. The writer had no claim on me and he knew it. We were finished even before I did something that would sound unforgiveable if I told the story. There were only two other people in the world that knew and one of them was dead. The other hated me. The feeling was mutual.
But it wasn’t just the shadow of worry gnawing at me as I roamed the quiet rooms of my apartment.
There was also a ghost. Years ago he’d befriended and consoled and assured me that I deserved better than a guy who cheated and treated me like dirt. He did all that even though he was crumbling under the weight of his own demons.
As she grew, Emma looked more and more like her father. Sometimes when I saw my daughter’s face it was like he was begging to be acknowledged. I had never acknowledged him or even spoken his name since the day of his funeral. I’d been telling the same lie ever since returning to Hawk Valley. My mother didn’t know. I hadn’t even told Heather.
I was aware that most lies possess a shelf life. I was aware that someday Emma would ask about her father. And then I wouldn’t be able to lie any longer.
I’d been pacing around the living room, lost in my own jumbled thoughts, when the soft knock startled me. With some wariness I looked out the peephole and then breathed a sigh of relief when I recognized the person on the other side. He was the one adult I wouldn’t mind dealing with right now.
There was something wrong with him tonight. I saw it right away and was thankful it didn’t have anything to do with Colin. But I was unprepared for the things he said, for the way he allowed me to collect him in my arms and hold him.
Nash Ryan wasn’t a man who shared his feelings eagerly. The story he told me about his mother was heartbreaking. To carry that burden of inescapable guilt for so long had wrecked him on some level, had led him to pursue an isolated life where he was still fighting battles that only existed in his head. Nash had revealed to me the most vulnerable side of himself and I didn’t know why, but I still had the sense he was holding back.
I lost all sense of time as we stayed on the couch with our arms around each other. But the sound of small steps shuffling into the room ended the embrace.
“Mommy?” said Emma, rubbing her eyes as a stuffed duck named Mr. Ford dangled from one hand.
Nash had already moved to the other side of the couch. I smoothed my nightshirt down and gently addressed my daughter.
“What’s wrong, baby? Your tummy still hurt?”
“No.” Emma planted herself on the couch between Nash and me. She kicked her bare little feet and frowned. “I had a dream.”
“A bad dream?”
Emma shook her head and pushed her wispy brown hair out of her face. “In my dream I had a dog.”
“A dog?” I touched my daughter’s head and smiled. Emma had been obsessed with getting a dog ever since meeting Roxie. “That sounds like a nice dream.”
“It was,” she said and yawned.
Nash was watching her in silence but I saw he was amused.
Emma noticed him suddenly. “Why are you here?”
“Emma,” I said, clearing my throat to stall for time. I never brought men around to meet Emma, which wasn’t usually a problem because my dates tended to cap out around twice a year. “Nash just stopped by to say hello.”
“Is that why you were hugging him?”
Nash caught my eye. “I was sad,” he told Emma. “Your mom was being nice, trying to make me feel better.”
“Do you?”
“Do I what?”
She sighed and crossed her arms, a gesture she’d gotten from me. “Do you feel better?”
He was trying not to laugh. “Yeah. I feel much better.”
“Why didn’t you bring Roxie?”
“It’s late. She was tired.”
“Hey.” I circled my arm around her small shoulders. “Speaking of tired, aren’t you tired, little miss?”
“No,” said Emma but she yawned again. She wrinkled her nose and peered up at Nash. “You should have brought her. She could have slept in my bed.”
Nash smiled. “Roxie would have enjoyed that.”
Emma nodded. “I miss her.”
“I think she misses you too.”
“Mommy, can I go see her now?” She looked up at me with a beseeching expression that was tough to resist.
“Not now, Ems. You need your rest.”
“Tell you what,” Nash said, leaning forward as if he were telling a secret, “you can come over and see her anytime.”
“Tomorrow?” Emma said hopefully.
“Uh,” Nash said, glancing at me. “Fine with me if it’s okay with your mom.”
“Are you working at the store tomorrow?” I asked him.
“No. I can go over the new merchandise orders at home while taking care of Colin. I promoted Betty to assistant manager and the new guy you found on short notice looks like he’ll work out to fill in the gaps part time.”
That reminded me of something. “Thanks for hiring Todd by the way,” I said. “He’s the son of my mom’s friend. People don’t always give him a chance because they think he’s on the slow side. But he’s a hard worker and he’ll do a good job for you.”
“I’m sure he will.”
“What time?” piped up Emma.
When we looked confused she let out another one of her ‘can’t believe you adults are so dense’ sighs and hugged her stuffed duck. “What time can I come see Roxie?”
Nash grinned. “We’ll work it out.”
“What does that mean?”
“Emma-bear,” I said, nudging her off the couch. “Let’s talk about it tomorrow, okay? Right now you need to get back to bed.”
Emma resisted for a few seconds but then she jumped off the couch and started to walk back to her room.
“I’ll just be a minute,” I said to Nash.
I followed Emma back to her bedroom and tucked the covers around her as she yawned and closed her eyes.
“Sweet dreams, angel face,” I said, kissing her smooth forehead.
“Of dogs,” she said in a whisper and a few seconds later her eyelids began fluttering. She didn’t often wake up in the middle of the night and I was confident she’d stay asleep now.
My little girl didn’t see me blow her a kiss from the doorway before I closed the door behind me but I liked to think she could somehow feel the love even when she was dreaming.
Nash was still sitting on the couch right where I’d left him. I wasn’t sure he would be. His eyes swept over my body with such bold heat my nipples tingled. I didn’t even know a reaction like that was possible from a two second glance.
“I should go,” he said, standing.
I leaned against the wall. “You don’t have to.”
He paused, then peered in the direction of Emma’s room and headed for the door. “Why don’t you shoot me a text when you and Emma are ready to stop by tomorrow?”
“I’ll do that.”
Nash turned and stared at me. “Thanks, Kat.”
I didn’t want him to leave. But the words got stuck on my tongue. “There’s nothing to thank me for, Nash.”
He still stared at me. His hand was on the doorknob and suddenly he grinned. “You know, I was thinking something earlier. Something that might be a little pathetic.”
“I’m sure it’s not pathetic.”
“You might disagree if you knew what it was.”
“Try me.”
“I was thinking that these days you just might be my best friend.”
That statement could be a sweet tribute. Or it could be an intoxicatingly sexy thing to hear in the right circumstances. These happened to be the right circumstances.
“And you might be mine,” I said.
Our eyes locked. Nash hesitated, then nodded as if he’d just come to a reluctant decision.
“Good night,” he said and exited abruptly.
Now it was my turn to sigh. I had no right to feel disappointed. Maybe Nash thought tonight’s mood had become too intimate and we’d end up blurring the lines beyond physical pleasure, beyond the closeness of a fairly new friendship.
I went to confirm the door was locked, checking the peephole out of habit. The distorted glass showed me that Nash hadn’t left. He was standing just within the harsh glare of the porch light, his back turned as if he was studying the street.
He didn’t move when I opened the door and joined him outside, silently closing the door behind me.
There was a chill in the air, a remnant of a cool breeze that sometimes rolled off the mountains and lingered before giving way to summer humidity. I stood in front of him barefoot and raised my arms, wrapping them around his broad shoulders. I had never been short as a child. In adulthood I wasn’t small boned and petite. Many men were smaller than me. And every time I’d been with Nash I’d been fascinated by the size of him. He was about six foot four, layered with muscle, and it was intoxicating when he wrapped his powerful arms around my body. The way he was doing now, surrounding my waist, pulling me against him, forcing me to suppress a moan when my nightshirt rode up and I felt him through my panties.
“Kiss me,” I whispered.
Nash pulled me out of the glare of the porch light first. I felt my back make contact with the wall on the far side of the kitchen window and his mouth crashed into mine with demanding hunger. I knew this area was dark, that we would be unseen. My elderly neighbor lived on the other side of the building. The street was quiet. There was no one to witness the way I urged his hands to keep exploring beneath my thin nightshirt. No one could see how I rubbed my sensitive core against him with a shameless rhythm that would send me over the edge if I kept it up. My panties had to be damp when he peeled them over my hips and loosened his belt. I would do this. I had no will to pull away. I would eagerly open my legs for him right here against the side of the freaking building like a sex-crazed lunatic. I wanted him that much.
But then I came with my legs around his waist, bucking against him like a wild animal rutting in the cool night air and shamelessly getting off by using the friction of his clothes, the pressure of his hands kneading my flesh and the tantalizing feel of his hard cock that was still trapped in his boxers.
“Does that offer still stand?” he challenged when I was still trying to catch my breath.
“What offer?”
“You said I didn’t have to go.”
I planted soft kisses along his jaw. “It still stands.”
“You want me to stay?”
“Yes.”
“Yes what?”
“Yes, I want you to stay.”
Nash had more sense than I did. He didn’t screw me out here within sight of the street. He took me to my bed, stripped everything off and put his mouth all over the place until I shook and quivered and was struck with another overpowering orgasm. I was still writhing in its intense throes and trying to stay quiet when he rolled on a condom, lifted my hips and pushed his way inside. I’d already learned something important about him. Nash never fucked exactly the same way twice. He’d been slow and gentle before, teasing at other times, and then there was this, the way he slammed into me with ferocious passion. I loved it. I loved having him inside of me, losing himself, gasping as he came.
Afterwards he kissed my breasts, rolled his tongue along my belly and then pulled my quilt up over my naked body before folding me into his arms.
“Will you spend the night?” I asked, wincing over the question. I didn’t want him to hear how much I hoped the answer would be yes.
“I’d like that,” he said and kissed my forehead. “But I’ll leave early before Emma wakes up. Sleep now, beautiful Kat.”
But I didn’t sleep right away. He fell into a calm slumber long before I did. I was too busy staring at the dark ceiling and trying to sort out the warring thoughts in my head.
I was no longer thinking of ghosts and enemies of the past. I was thinking of something much more practical.
When Nash and I first started down this path I’d sworn to myself that my heart wasn’t up for grabs. But in no time at all he had come perilously close to capturing it anyway. He just didn’t know it.
I wondered if I’d ever tell him.