"Where to?" Nash asked, glancing over at me.
"How about the Inn? Have you been yet?"
"I've meant to, but I haven't made it over yet."
"Good. I haven't been since the fireworks on the fourth of July. You know how to get there?"
Nash nodded. I would have taken his hand, but he needed it to shift. I settled for resting my palm on his strong thigh, loving the way the muscle flexed as he shifted gears. The engine roared and my fingers squeezed in reflex. Nash slanted me a look, his eyes dropping to my hand.
"Am I distracting you?" I asked, with another squeeze.
"Definitely."
"Do you want me to move my hand?" I asked, the corner of my mouth lifting.
"Absolutely not."
Nash kept his eyes on the road, but mine were on him. I had something I needed to explain. "It's not you I don't trust, Nash."
His eyes skipped to me, narrowing in thought. "It's partly me."
"Not really," I said, knowing the words were true. "I don't trust myself." I took a breath, trying to put the words in order in my head. "I spent a long time second guessing myself. I wanted to leave Tyler so long ago, but I was afraid. I thought I was trapped, that what I wanted didn't matter, that I was just lonely and unhappy and that wasn't enough to end my marriage over. I don't know what I'm doing."
"With me?" Nash prompted, dropping his hand from the gearshift to curl his fingers around mine.
"With you. With myself. With my life. It bothers me that I didn't leave Tyler until after my father died and I had somewhere to go. I should have been strong enough to leave him a long time ago."
"Parker–"
I didn't let Nash cut in. "No, don't tell me it's fine. I'm not courageous like you are. Your father told you he'd cut you off if you didn't pick his college, his company. And you told him to go to hell. My father told me what to do, and I just said okay. Okay. Fine. I didn't want him to yell at me and I didn't know what else to do, so I did what I was told and it made me miserable. And I just lived with being miserable until–"
"Until you saw a way out," Nash cut in, "and you took it. Stop putting yourself down. My father also raised me to think for myself, to argue and fight back and make my own way. Even though he didn't like how that turned out a lot of the time. Your father's mission in life was to grind you down until you didn't have any fight left in you. Not the same thing at all."
"But–"
"And we aren't the same person, Parker. You don't have to be like me to be worthwhile. You just have to be you."
"I don't know what that means," I admitted, as Nash slowed the car. Town was busy this time of year. The best we could do was a slow crawl down Main Street. Ahead, the stone facade of the Inn filled our view. "I don't know who I am."
Nash squeezed my hand before he let go to downshift. "You don't have to, Parker. You said you want to give us a chance?"
"Yes. I don't know what I'm doing, but I know that."
"Why don't you give yourself a chance while you're at it? Between the two of us, you deserve it more than I do. But you're willing to give me a shot. Give the same to yourself."
I shook my head. "I don't know what you mean."
Nash didn't answer, too focused on turning into the Inn and handing his keys to the valet. "Go easy with her," he advised the young man whose eager eyes roamed the car's curves. Considering he was going to park it right in front where everyone could ogle it, I don't think Nash had much to worry about.
Nash didn't say anything else until we were seated at a small table on the terrace overlooking the gardens. It was hot, but the fans moved the air and it was a beautiful day to be outside.
We ordered drinks and a charcuterie board to share. The waiter left and Nash turned the full force of his attention on me. "You're making everything too complicated. You're already doing what you need to do. You left a marriage that wasn't making you happy. You moved home, where you are happy."
He raised his eyebrows for confirmation, and I nodded.
"You wanted a job, and you got one," he went on.
"Working for my brother," I protested.
