It Might Be You by Jennifer Gracen (19)

Chapter Eighteen

Nick rubbed his eyes, then raked his hand over his hair as he pored over the file yet again. This case was eating at him. Three weeks ago, it’d been the first case he’d been given as an investigator, and he desperately wanted to solve it. Not just to prove something to himself or his superiors, but for the victim’s family. They deserved answers and hopefully, eventually, some closure. Clearly the twenty-four-year-old murder victim had been a case of mistaken identity—poor bastard had been in the wrong place at the wrong time. If the killer had made that mistake, there had to be other mistakes too. Nick just had to find them. But he wasn’t used to the new pace. Things worked much more slowly, with more steps, and though he knew it was necessary, it frustrated him. He had to learn to dial it back and get used to it.

His cell phone rang on the desk beside him. He didn’t even look at the screen when he answered it, eyes still on the computer screen. “Martell.”

“Hi . . . Mr. Martell? Nick Martell?”

“Yes.”

“Okay, good. This is Dr. Greenberg, from Northwell Hospital.”

Nick snapped to attention. “Sure, right. Hi.”

“Hi. Do you have a few minutes to talk? I realize you may be at work.”

Nick’s whole body went tight. The doctor in charge of Myles’s medical team was calling him? Something had to be up. “Yes, I’m at work, but that’s fine. Sure, I have a few minutes. What’s up?”

“We’re ready for you to come back to New York,” the doctor said. “Myles is done with the conditioning and we’re just about ready to do the surgery. How soon can you come back? Any idea?”

“I’ll be there tomorrow if you need me to be,” Nick said without pause.

Fifteen minutes later, Nick was walking into his boss’s office to request the leave of absence they’d known would be coming. After that, he sat down at his desk to book a flight to New York when his phone rang. Charles’s number lit up the screen.

“Hey,” Nick said. “I was going to call you in a bit. Just had a meeting with my superior, got the clearance. I’m on my way.”

“Wonderful. I heard from Dr. Greenberg that you said you’d be coming,” Charles said. “So everything’s swinging into action. Thank you for coming so quickly.”

“Of course,” Nick said. “I was actually about to book my flight. I’m going to work tomorrow to finish out the week, but I’ll take an evening flight, get there late tomorrow night.”

“Glad I caught you, then,” Charles said, “because that’s not necessary. That’s why I called. My private plane will bring you to New York. Don’t book anything.”

“What?”

“My jet. It’ll be at the Miami airport for you, whenever you’re ready to go. You just tell me when you were planning to leave. How’s seven-thirty, eight P.M. sound?”

Nick almost sputtered. “You don’t have to do that.”

“I want to do that. Please let me.”

Nick sighed. He suspected that now that the surgery was a go, Charles was probably freaking out and needed to do something. Nick knew him well enough now to know that . . . but it still felt like leeching off him. “Charles . . .”

“So I’ll fly you in. My next question is,” Charles barreled on, “do you want to stay here at the house while you recover? After the procedure, you’re going to need to be watched for a few days. Maybe even weeks. You know that.”

“I’ll be fine, and I’ll be in a hotel,” Nick asserted. “I appreciate your concern, really. So don’t take offense, but I’ll want my own space. I need that.” The thought of an audience around him while he recovered was not going to fucking happen. Not to mention the Amanda factor. For three weeks, he’d been texting and talking to her, growing a little closer every day. He couldn’t wait to see her again. He couldn’t wait to get her into bed again. And they couldn’t do any of that freely if he was staying under Charles’s roof. “I’m not budging on that, so don’t try, okay? I’ll stay at a hotel.”

“Okay, but you are going to need some help those first few days,” Charles asserted. “I respect and understand that you want your own space, but I’m going to hire a nurse for you anyway. Warning you now.”

“Jeez, Harrison,” Nick joked. “You’re a pushy bastard, aren’t you?”

“On all this stuff? Absolutely.” Charles’s voice softened as he said, “I want to help. I want to do something. This is what I can do. Please . . . just let me help you, okay?”

Nick understood him, and was more moved than he wanted to admit. “Okay. All right, fine. So what are we talking about, exactly?”

Charles actually sighed with relief. “Starting with my plane, we’ll firm up the time later and get you here. I’ll book you a room at the same hotel as last time, if that’s all right? You liked it there?”

“Yes,” Nick said, “that’ll be fine.” He leaned back in his chair, giving in.

“Consider it done. And I’ll make sure a rental car is there for you.” Charles’s tone turned playful as he asked, “Want a Porsche again? Or something else? Name your ride, baby brother.”

Nick laughed, but something in his chest twinged at the baby brother bit. It was the first time Charles had called him that. “Something fast and sweet. Surprise me.”

“Oh, that’ll be fun,” Charles said, his voice infused with a new zeal. “That I’ll do myself, not leave to my assistant.”

“Have fun with that.”

“I will. You will too, I promise. Um . . . since you’re getting in late Friday night, would you be amenable to coming to my house on Saturday for lunch to see our other siblings? Or dinner? Up to you. I know Myles would love it.”

Our other siblings. Nick was going back into the fold of his new, other family. The short amount of time and space hadn’t brought him much in the way of answers. He still wasn’t sure exactly how he fit in with the Harrisons, or how much he wanted to. But the thought of seeing Myles made Nick’s gut clench. He wanted to see that kid more than anything. “I’d love to see Myles too. Tell him I’ll be there. But . . . can we make it lunch? I may have plans in the evening.”

Charles paused a second, and Nick knew he was surprised. He also sensed Charles wanted to ask what kind of plans, but his refined manners wouldn’t let him. “Of course,” Charles said. “We can even make it a brunch, if that works better for you.”

“Hmm . . . I’ll hit the gym in the morning and be over to your place at noon, if that works.”

“That’s fine. Listen, Nick . . .” Charles cleared his throat. “The surgery is Wednesday. You’ll have pretesting and all that on Monday and Tuesday. So . . . I’d like it to be a family get-together on Saturday. With all the siblings. Have everyone there except for my father. Between you and Pierce being there, he shouldn’t be. So that’s all right with you, right? I’m asking first. I’m not sure how much of the family you want around you, especially if you’re at all tense about the surgery.”

“I’m not tense about the surgery,” Nick said automatically.

“Great. But you may still be tense about being a Harrison. And I understand that. So . . . if it’s too much, and it isn’t what you want, tell me. And I’ll make the family get-together for Sunday, without you, so you can just visit with Myles alone on Saturday.” Charles added, “I’m trying to be considerate. Because I don’t know what you’re thinking or feeling. So I’m not trying to shove us all down your throat. Understand?”

Nick went quiet. The swirl of others talking around him, the varied noises of the station, seemed to overwhelm him for a few seconds. He wished he had a better handle on what he was thinking or feeling himself. When he was immersed in his work, it was easy not to think about Myles, or the Harrisons, or Amanda, or any of these new factors that played into his life. The fact still was, he had no idea where he stood, and he wasn’t sure what to do with that. So he’d just keep barreling forward until he did. “The thing with everyone on Saturday is fine with me. And the plane, the hotel, and the rest of it too. And . . . thank you for wanting to do all that. I’ll let you this time.”

“You’re very welcome. Wait—this time?” Charles asked. “That makes it sound like you’ll be coming back to New York after the surgery. Are you planning to be?”

“I have no real plans,” Nick said. “But it’s likely, at some point. I’ve got a few relatives there.”

“You do indeed,” Charles said warmly.

“But if I do, I pay my own way, make my own reservations, all of that. Got it?”

“Got it.”

“Okay then. I’ll be in touch later about the flight. I just need to check on a few things.”

“And I just need to figure out if I should pick a Ferrari or a Lamborghini for you,” Charles said. “Decisions, decisions. . .”

Nick laughed. “Don’t go nuts. See you on Saturday.”

* * *

Amanda made sure Myles was comfortable. He’d fallen asleep sitting up, and she eased him to lie down, gently pulling the video game console from his hands so as not to wake him. She felt his ears to make sure he had no temperature; to her relief, they were cool to the touch. “Thatta boy,” she whispered. If he got sick now, the surgery would be postponed, not to mention the havoc it would wreak on his weakened immune system. Every day now, that was her biggest concern. She found herself thinking, Stay healthy, stay healthy, stay healthy several times a day.

With a sigh, she stretched her arms over her head and went to the side window to look outside. It was a lovely spring day. The mid-May flowers seemed to be everywhere; the Harrisons’ landscaping was a gorgeous cascade of color. Tulips of all shades lined the mansion and the wide backyard, bursts of bright reds, yellows, pinks, and purples against the greens of the shrubbery and lawn. Spring was blooming out there . . . and Myles was wilting in here. Life wasn’t fair sometimes. It just wasn’t.

Sighing, she grabbed her water bottle and took a few sips. She rolled her head, trying to loosen the tight muscles in her neck, then pulled out her ponytail, ran a quick comb through her hair, and put it back up again. Reaching into her deep tote bag for her lip balm, she also grabbed her phone to check her messages. A text from her mom, one from Roni, and one from Nick. His made her brows lift.

She sank into the chair by the bay window with a smile. Sunlight warmed the back of her head and shoulders as she texted him: No. Why, are you making sure I’ll be home for another round of texting or phone seduction?

His text came back immediately. Ha! No, much better. I’m coming back to New York tomorrow night. But I’ll get in pretty late, so I can’t see you til Saturday. Would love to take you out to dinner if that’s ok with you.

She smiled with delight as a burst of excitement rushed through her veins. It’s more than okay. I’d love to see you.

Knew you were coming back soon, she wrote, but wasn’t sure when. Heard today they scheduled the surgery for Wed. Was going to call you later.

Yup. She added, And now that I have a date on Saturday night, I’m a little perked up.

Only a little?

 

She sent back a winking emoji.

 

Minx. So here’s the plan, he wrote. I’ll be at Charles’s house on Saturday afternoon for a family thing. Mostly to see Myles. But then I’ll come pick you up. How’s 6:00?

Perfect. She wiggled a bit in her seat, another wave of happiness washing over her. Where are we going?

Her heart skipped a beat as her skin heated, adrenaline shooting through her. I’d like that. All of that. Yes.

LOL! A little shiver rolled over her as she thought of the ways he’d make her unquiet. Which hotel? Same as last time?

Yes. And I have all day Sunday to focus on nothing but you, he wrote. I might not let you out of bed. Pack accordingly.

A bolt of electricity zipped through her, stopping with a zing between her legs. Smiling, she texted back, Sounds good, but . . . won’t you feed me at some point on Sunday? I get hungry when I’m screwed senseless.

Deal, she typed, smiling broadly. Um . . . protection? You or me?

I’ve got that, no worries, he wrote back. But you’ll stay all day Sunday? I want that time with you before . . . you know. Everything.

She swallowed a sigh. After the surgery, he wouldn’t be up to much for a while, whether he wanted to admit it or not. But he was telling her flat out he wanted her, and wanted her to stay with him. All night, and all the next day. That was . . . a rush. Happy-making. Thrilling. Her cheeks bloomed pink, and she bit down on her lip. Yes. I’ll stay. Sounds fantastic. Looking forward to it.

Back atcha, Miami Vice. She turned to look out the window, squinting into the sunshine. Her day had just improved by a gazillion. She smiled with excited anticipation as she gazed out at the trees and flowers, her mind filled with visions of Nick. She couldn’t wait to see him again, touch him again, let herself sink into oblivion with him . . . for a short time. All she had to do was not focus on why he was there in the first place, and everything that would follow immediately after their secret rendezvous. She’d just live in the moment. Nothing was guaranteed beyond that anyway. She glanced over her shoulder to check on Myles, who slept soundly. No . . . nothing was guaranteed.

* * *

“You have got to be kidding me.” Amanda approached Nick with wide eyes. At the curb in front of her apartment building, he looked hotter than hot standing alongside a sleek black Ferrari. Dark sunglasses on, saucy grin on his handsome face, his long, muscled frame in a tight navy T-shirt and jeans slung low on his narrow hips as he perched on the hood . . . she swallowed hard. It was like a cover shoot for a magazine or something. Ridiculously sexy. The whole picture made her weak with lust.

Was she that shallow, to be swayed and affected so much by a hot guy in front of a hot car? Apparently so, and who cared, power to her, the man was smoking. Off the charts.

And hers for the night.

“Hey.” His grin widened into a smile and he stood, straightening to his full six feet as she reached him.

God, he was gorgeous. She had a fleeting moment of awkward hesitation, an unexpected jab of sudden shyness. Did she kiss him hello? Offer a friendly hug? Not touch him yet at all? But he didn’t even pause. His hands went to her waist, pulling her in as he smiled down at her. “I remember you.” His voice was warm as he pushed his sunglasses to the top of his head, revealing happiness in those deep brown eyes.

“You look vaguely familiar,” she murmured, captivated, sucked in to his presence and his embrace like she’d been put under a spell.

“You look so pretty,” he said softly. “I like this dress.” His eyes traveled over her body in heated appreciation as his hands clasped her waist a little tighter. “It’s flattering as hell on you. And brings out your eyes.”

“Thank you.” She gave herself a mental gold star for choosing the pale blue shift dress rather than jeans and a top. She wanted to look and feel feminine, attractive, and a little bit sexy, and this dress did the trick. A low V-neck, fluttery short sleeves, hem that stopped just above her knees . . . it was a very different look from her scrubs, which Nick had seen her in one too many times. She’d wanted to set a certain tone for the night; clearly the dress and her nude peep-toe heels had done their job.

“It’s really good to see you,” he whispered. One hand stayed at her waist, curling around her lower back to pull her closer as the other hand lifted to cup her face. He lowered his head, brushing his lips against hers gently at first, then with a little more pressure and heat. His tongue ran along her bottom lip, asking for entry. She parted her lips to invite him in and her arms snaked around his neck and locked there. With a soft groan, he deepened the kiss and she pressed against him, arching into him.

His warm mouth against hers and his strong arms around her felt so good. It was both a re-acquaintance of touch, getting to know each other again, and fresh new sparks igniting. Her fingers ran through his short hair, clutched at his shoulders as the kisses smoldered, burning hotter, until she remembered they were out on the street and broke the kiss.

“Whoa.” Nick leaned his forehead against hers and smiled, his eyes dark with desire. It pleased her to see she wasn’t the only one breathing a little heavy. He moved his hand to brush a stray lock of her hair back from her eyes. He tucked it behind her ear as he said, his voice pitched low, “Better stop now, or I’m just gonna sweep you upstairs and into bed.”

“Would that be so bad?” she said with a grin.

“No.” His grin matched hers. “No, it wouldn’t. But dinner first. I need fuel for what I plan to do to you all night.” A soft breeze made her hair dance again, and his eyes lit as he stared at her face. “It’s good to see you, Amanda.”

“Good to see you too.” She smiled, touched his cheek, then pulled back a little. Her whole body burned for him, but if he could hold back, so could she. “So. This car? Seriously?”

“I know.” He laughed as he released her, then grabbed his sunglasses from where they were perched on top of his head and put them back on. “Charles did this. It’s kind of a running joke now, I think. I never would’ve picked this out.”

“Too flashy?” Amanda guessed.

“Too expensive to justify the rental. But he . . .” Nick laughed again and shrugged. “He thinks I’m a young alpha male who likes like fast, shiny cars.”

“Are you?”

“Hell yeah. But still, this . . . it’s a fucking Ferrari. I mean, Jesus, you know?”

“I know. It’s hot. And I’ve never even been this close to one, much less in one.” She slid him a playfully sexy look. “You gonna take me for a spin in it or what?”

He immediately opened the passenger door for her. “Absolutely, gorgeous.”

She slid into the leather seat, admiring as she looked around. She was sitting in a Ferrari. This was bizarre. She grinned to herself as Nick started the car and the engine purred to life. “Damn, this car is sexy,” she said.

“It really is,” he admitted.

Amanda felt invigorated. She opened the window halfway to let in the warm spring air. “We need to take a drive before dinner. Would that be okay?”

“Sure, that’d be fine.” He grinned as he pulled away from the curb and eased onto the street. “Just tell me where you want to go.”

She thought about it for a few seconds. “I know where I’d love to go, because I think you might like it, but it’d take some extra time to get there. I think it’d be worth it, but you said you’re hungry. . . .”

“I can wait.” He glanced at her over the rims of his sunglasses. “Look, the night is ours. Let’s make the most of it. I want to be out with you. It’s a gorgeous night. We’ll take a drive, then we’ll get some dinner, and then . . .” His grin turned wicked. “You’re mine, all mine. Every luscious inch of you.” He winked. “So, go ahead, tell me where we’re going.”

* * *

Nick loved everything about the drive. The feel of the wind, the wheel in his hands, the way the sun dropped slowly in the sky, turning it into shades of dark pink, orange, blue-tinged purple . . . but best of all was the gorgeous woman sitting beside him. Beautiful, alluring, and with a smile she hadn’t been able to take off her face from the moment she’d first seen him.

He’d missed her. Almost a month of texting and phone conversations had helped them get to know each other better, helped them grow a little closer, but it wasn’t the same as actually being together. Getting to look at each other when they talked, being able to reach out and touch her skin or her hair, to hold her hand as he steered the car down the open road . . .

She’d taken them along a few parkways, going from the North Shore of Long Island down to the South Shore. She was originally from the South Shore, and apparently that was a thing. She told him the cool girls were from the South Shore, and that the beaches were better. The North Shore had the Long Island Sound, but the south had the Atlantic Ocean, and did he want to drive along that? Hell yes, he did. She told him where to go, and in a little while they were soaring down the Ocean Parkway.

The landscape was different here, he could tell. The North Shore had been greener, lusher. Here there was lots of brush by the beach, and it wasn’t as green. The car sailed along the asphalt like a dream, and the ocean was visible as they went, so close. They drove for a while with the windows down and the music up, enjoying the power of both the car and the sexual tension that crackled between them.

It was just what he’d needed. It helped him take his mind off what he’d left behind at Charles’s mansion.

Amanda had warned him that Myles looked different, but Nick hadn’t been prepared for what he’d seen today. Myles was hairless now, and the sallow tone of his skin made him sad. But the kid had brightened when he’d seen Nick, which had made his heart do a funny twist in his chest. And his attitude had been as positive as it could be, causing Nick to admire his nephew more than he could express. Nick had brought him gifts—a Miami PD T-shirt and sweatshirt, and a Marlins ball cap just to mess with him. Myles had thanked him and switched out his Yankees cap right away. The sight of his bald head had made Nick’s stomach clench. Nick had helped him adjust it, then asked if he could hug him. When he had, he‘d felt the kid’s bones. He’d breathed him in.

But it was more than all that. It was the thick tension that had been in the air, that palpable worry that had pervaded the house. Nick had felt it the minute he’d set foot in the mansion. Charles and Lisette had been wound up tight. They mostly did a good job of concealing their worry, but he’d seen it in their eyes. He’d seen it in the way Ava shot her mouth off at her father and the way Thomas retreated into the corner with his phone, barely looking up as he curled into a chair. He’d seen it in how clingy little Charlotte had been with both of her parents, much more so than last time.

When the rest of the family had arrived, it’d helped to distract them all from the unease in the atmosphere. Tess, Logan, and their three kids, Pierce and Abby with their two tiny boys . . . the house had filled with sound, a cushion against the dark presence that hung like a veil over everyone. Dane and Julia had shown up last, carrying boxes of cookies and pastries for everyone, which had brought cheers. And every one of them had seemed genuinely glad to see Nick. Each had given him a warm welcome, asked him how his new job was going, all the good things.

But throughout the afternoon Lisette and Charles had taken turns disappearing up to Myles’s room. Neither of them had been willing, or even able, to leave his side for long. Nick had watched them discreetly as they’d trade shifts. Charles would kiss the top of her head or pull her into a hug; Lisette would rub his shoulder or his arm or his back . . . tiny gestures of love, meant to comfort one another.

They were terrified. It had hurt Nick to see it.

“You with me?” Amanda asked.

He shot her a quick glance. “I am. Sorry. I was just thinking about them. The whole family. They’re on edge . . . and I felt for them. I care.” He adjusted his sunglasses, absently ran his fingers through his hair. “Isn’t that bizarre, that I barely know them all, but they mean enough to me that I care?”

“No.” Amanda squeezed his hand. “It’s not bizarre. It’s lovely, really.”

He squeezed her hand back.

She leaned over and turned the volume up a bit, letting the music fill the comfortable silence. The scenery whirred by. . . . Nick got lost in his head again, stuck on the thing that had burrowed under his skin as much as seeing Myles so weakened.

At one point, needing a breather, Nick had wandered into the kitchen looking to grab a beer. A short Latina woman, around his mother’s age, had stood at the stove stirring something in a huge silver pot. Her black hair, threaded with silver, had been pulled back in a ponytail and she’d hummed to herself as she worked.

“That smells amazing,” Nick had said to her. “Whatever it is.”

“Soup for Myles. Chicken, carrots, barley. It’s his favorite.” She’d turned her head, looked him up and down. “You’re the new long-lost brother, aren’t you?”

“I am.” He’d extended a hand. “Nick Martell.”

“Nice to meet you. I’m Tina Rodriguez.” She’d shaken his hand and flashed a quick smile. “I’ve worked here forever. I didn’t meet you last time you were here, but I heard about you.” Then she’d added, in Spanish, “Lisette told me how you found out she spoke Spanish. That’s funny as hell.”

It shouldn’t have surprised him, but she’d caught him off guard. He’d laughed and leaned a hip against the counter, switching to Spanish as well. “Ay, you think so, eh? She handed me my head, but with such class. Served me right.”

“Lisette is nothing but class. But I would’ve given anything to see your face when she answered you.” Tina’s eyes had sparkled as she set down the long wooden spoon. “My God, look at you. I can see the resemblance since I know, but . . .” She’d shaken her head in wonder. “It’s really something, when I think about it.”

“What is?”

“That one of us is one of them.” Tina had given a little grin, one of a secret ally. “Blew my mind when I heard that. That Charles’s asshole father had . . . well.” She’d tsked at herself. “I don’t mean to be rude—forgive me. It’s just seeing you in person . . . I’ve known this family a long time. It’s just wild, the whole story.”

Nick had stared at Tina, stopped cold as it hit him. She was a Latina, working in the Harrisons’ kitchen.... That could’ve been his mom thirty years ago. It had stolen his breath. One of us is one of them.

“You’re not here again.” Amanda’s voice burst into his thoughts.

He blinked, glancing at her before looking back out at the road. “Sorry. Just got caught up. . . .” He shook his head.

“Wanna talk about it?” she asked, her voice gentling.

He sighed. “Part of it, you already understand. Part of it . . . you couldn’t possibly understand.”

She rolled up her window so she could hear him better, lowered the volume of the music, then turned to him with a firm but kind gaze. “Try me.”

He told her everything about seeing the family, being with Myles, the pervading worry. Then, after some hesitation, he told her about meeting Tina, and what she’d said that he couldn’t get out of his head. “It just brought up a lot of things.... I don’t know how to explain it. Old demons.”

“You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.” Amanda reached over and took his hand again, her skin soft and warm as she interlaced their fingers. “But if you want to, I’m listening. I’m here.”

Something expanded in his chest at that. He stole a glance at her, caught the genuine friendship and kindness in her eyes.... He felt safe enough to be open with her. “I don’t think a lot about being biracial. Really, I never have. I am who I am. I just live my life, whatever. But once in a while, it comes up. Like today. And I have to admit that, deep down, it’s always felt like . . .” He sighed as he searched for the right words, keeping his eyes on the road, the fading colors of the sky. Her hand was warm in his.

“I have one foot in each world,” he admitted quietly. “I’m just . . . never a hundred percent in one world. You wouldn’t understand, but it’s just . . . sometimes, when I think about it? It just makes me weary. Maybe a little sad, or mad, or something. I don’t know. There’s too much. Neither side of my family ever really clubbed me over the head with it, but there’s been tiny things, subtle things, over the years.... I was aware of it. So I just don’t think about it too long or too hard, but . . .” He shook his head. “Whatever. I don’t like sounding like I’m whining. Sorry.”

“You’re not whining. You’re talking about your feelings.”

“Yeah, well, I’m not great at that.”

“Gee, I’m so surprised.” Her voice was gently teasing.

He couldn’t help but grin. “Yeah, well. Typical guy, I guess.”

“There’s nothing typical about you, Nick.” Her tone changed, warmth infusing her words. “It’s why I was drawn to you in the first place. Don’t sell yourself short with that bullshit. You run deeper than you admit to.”

He loved her straight-talking ways. His fingers involuntarily squeezed hers.

“Why wouldn’t I understand what you said, how you feel?” she said. “You articulated it pretty well.”

He just shook his head. She hadn’t experienced that feeling of displacement, so no matter how well he articulated it, there was a level of distance she’d never get past. He eased the car down the road, focusing on how it curved slightly.

“Tell you what,” she said. “You’re right—I can’t understand what that’s been like. But I can listen, and you can talk to me about it. And I’m not judging you. You weren’t whining, and I’d never think that. I’m here to talk to, to lean on. You can do that with me. Because I care about you.”

Something heavy snaked through his chest and he swallowed hard. Her words struck something deep inside him. It was like he’d been hit by a lightning bolt; he was that shaken to the core. Overwhelmed, he felt warmth flow through him, and he wanted to hold her, pull her into his arms and not let go.

With a sharp turn, Nick pulled over to the side of the road, the tiny little strip for emergencies, and threw the car into park. Her eyes were round; clearly, she wasn’t sure why he’d stopped or what was happening. But he turned to her and said intently, “Thank you. Thanks for that.” He reached up to hold her face with both hands, gazing at her in soft wonder. “I appreciate what you said. You’re great, and . . . I care about you too.”

He pressed his lips to hers in a long, sweet kiss, reverent and adoring.

“I’m getting hungry now,” she said softly. “Let’s go get some dinner. I know a great place right on the beach. We passed it a few miles back. We’ll turn around. Okay?”

He caressed her face, her beautiful face.... He couldn’t stop staring at her. Something forceful surged through him, feelings he couldn’t name, crushing and elating at the same time. He just couldn’t tear his eyes from her, locked there with a gravitational pull. They gazed into each other’s eyes for a few long, charged moments. She reached up to trace her fingertip along his ear, then moved her hand to the back of his neck to play with his hair, her expression neutral except for the soft smile that played at the corners of her mouth. Something he couldn’t label was gnawing at him, restless and straining....

“You’re okay,” she whispered. “Everything is going to be okay.”

The knot in his chest unraveled, a quiet ease replacing it. At a loss for words, he shifted in his seat so he could take her mouth again. The kiss was deep, firm, filled with the passion and emotion he felt inside that he couldn’t put words to. He’d been meant to meet her. Meant to find her. It was a whisper in his head, in his heart.

“I missed you when we were apart,” he whispered against her mouth. “Mi reina. Mi reina bella . . .”

She gave a little shiver and her smile twitched, as if she was pleased to hear his words but didn’t want to admit it. So he kissed her again, threading his fingers through her silky hair as his mouth consumed hers. He wanted to kiss her for hours.... He wanted to curl around her, draw her into him, become one. These feelings were insane, sending him spinning....

But she pulled back, her hands on his face. “Let’s get some dinner,” she said. “The sooner we do, the sooner you can take me to bed and show me just how much you missed me.”

A fresh surge of lusty heat shot through his veins, making his limbs tingle, and he grinned. He drew a deep breath and willfully shook off whatever spell had gripped him. It felt dangerously like attachment, deep connection, or even . . .

No, no, hell no. Falling in love with her? That would be the worst thing he could do. Borderline devastation. He was leaving in a few weeks, and that would be it for them. He knew that in his head. But in his heart . . .

He cleared his throat, let his eyes linger on her gorgeous face for another few seconds, then took his sunglasses back. “You just tell me where to go.” He threw the car back into drive and got back on the road.