“Keep an eye out,” Nolan advised.
“Will do. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go lie down in the back seat of my minivan for ten minutes. I’ll send Max over with a drink for you, Marshal.”
We watched her limp away.
“I can’t imagine going through something like that every damn month,” Nolan said, shaking his head.
“You don’t think we’re like that with our jobs, do you?” I asked.
“Like what?”
“Like we get our self-worth, our purpose from our careers.”
“Oh, you want me to lie to you. Okay. No, we’re not at all like that, Solavita.”
“Come on.”
“Babe, I lost my marriage over this job and I don’t even like what I do.”
“So why don’t you quit?”
“And do what?”
“I don’t know. Win back the girl?”
“Right. Because the only thing more attractive than a man married to his job is an unemployed ex-husband begging for a second chance,” he said dryly. “Nope. Some of us are just destined to live for the job.”
“You don’t think there’s anything better out there than this?” I asked.
“Of course there’s something fucking better out there. Just maybe not for you and me. At least me. If you think for a second I wouldn’t quit my job and spend the rest of my life rubbing my ex’s feet and packing her lunches if she said she’d take me back, you’re dead wrong. But there’s only so many times you can shut somebody out before they stop trying to get in.”
“But is it worth it? Letting someone in when you know you just made it that much easier for them to rip you apart? I mean, seriously, what could be that good to make that kind of risk worth it?”
“You’re asking the wrong guy. I don’t know what’s on the other side, but I’d sure as hell be willing to risk finding out if I got a second chance.”
Nolan’s words made me feel just a little bit cowardly. I had no problem confronting a drunken bully, but the idea of opening myself up to someone had my knees knocking together.
“So how did dinner with Sloane go?”
“Good. She’s a great girl. Smart. Fucking adorable. A little wild.”
“But?” I prompted, reading his face.
“But will I sound like a big girl if I say I might not be over my ex?”
“Yes,” I teased. “If it makes you feel better, I think our little librarian is just looking for a good time. Not wedding bells.”
“I don’t like to kiss and tell, but after I told her about my ex, she told me she’s just in it for after-third-date sex.”
I choked on my bourbon. “Well, as long as you’re both on the same page.”
“Here you go, Marshal. It’s a Red Death,” Max said, dropping a rocks glass filled with a murky red beverage.
“Actually, can I get a—”
I kicked him under the table and shook my head as Max’s eyes narrowed threateningly.
“I beg your pardon?” she said frostily.
“I mean, this looks great. Thank you very much. Here’s twenty dollars for your trouble,” Nolan said, quickly shoving a bill at her.
Max nodded regally and snatched up the cash. “That’s what I thought you meant.”
Nolan took a sip and immediately winced. “Jesus, God. It tastes like a hangover.”
“How do you feel about trying period cramps on for size?” I asked.
Later that night, I was curled up on the couch with another murdery library book trying not to think about what Nolan had said when I heard a thump against my front door. It was late, after eleven, which was usually when bad things happened.
I slipped off the couch and quietly made my way to the door.
You needed a key to get into the building, but in my line of work, I knew that even a sturdy exterior door and living next to the chief of police wouldn’t deter a drunk, determined idiot who’d had his ego dented.
I held my breath and peered through the peephole. There was no one there. Across the hall, Mrs. Tweedy’s door was closed. I was debating whether to grab my trusty baseball bat to go investigate when I heard a faint scratching sound coming from the bottom of my door. It was accompanied by a familiar jingle.
Opening the door, I found Piper prancing in place looking anxious. Next to her, slumped against the wall was Nash. He was shirtless, sweating, and shivering.
The guy sure knew how to take a girl on a roller coaster of emotion.
“Hey,” he panted, tilting his head to look up at me. “Mind taking…Piper…for a bit?”
I said nothing as I helped haul him to his feet. There was nothing to say. We’d hurt each other, but he’d come to me when he needed help. And I wasn’t quite mean enough to turn him away. Wordlessly, he looped one arm over my shoulders while I slid mine around his waist.
It felt familiar. But I wasn’t supposed to have a routine with anyone, let alone him.
Tremors racked his body as we shuffled inside with Piper dancing nervously at our feet.
“Bed or couch?” I asked. His skin was hot and sticky against mine.
“Bed.”
I guided us into my bedroom and, knowing his preference, pushed him down on the side closest to the door. Piper heroically vaulted onto the mattress and marched back and forth, surveying Nash from head to bare feet.
“I’ll get some ice,” I said. I didn’t have any frozen vegetables in my freezer, and I didn’t think cold takeout would do the trick.
Nash’s hand clamped over my wrist. “No. Stay.” Those blue eyes pulled me in. There were no walls or old wounds in them. There was only an honest plea and I was helpless against it. “Please.”
“Fine. But this doesn’t mean I’m not still furious with you.”
“Same goes.”
“Don’t be an ass.”
I tried to round the foot of the bed, but he stopped me and pulled me back. He jackknifed into a seated position, hooked me under the arms, and pulled me on top of him.
“Nash.”
“Just need you close,” he whispered.
When he collapsed back against the pillows, he settled me into his side, my thigh draping over his hips, my head resting on his chest just below the scar on his shoulder.
I could hear the thunder of his heartbeat, and I splayed my palm across his chest. He shuddered once and then his muscles seemed to lose some of the tension they held so rigidly.
He let out a tremulous sigh, then wrapped both arms around me, pressed his face to my hair, and held on tight.
Piper claimed her space at Nash’s feet, resting her head on his ankle and shooting sorrowful glances up at us.
With nothing left to do, I breathed with him.
Four. Seven. Eight.
Four. Seven. Eight.
Over and over again until the tension left his body. “Better now,” Nash whispered into my hair. We lay there, breathing together, being together until sleep drifted over us both.
TWENTY-NINE
WINNING CAREER DAY
Nash
Iwoke up to the dreary light of dawn and the sound that haunted me, the persistent brittle crunch that drove me to madness in my sleep. This morning, it was accompanied by the soft click of Lina’s front door closing.