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Maybe Nick wasn’t hitting on that blonde at the gym, but there’s always going to be someone who is more than ready to bend over for someone else’s man. I’m not going to be the one who ends up with a broken heart and having to explain it to a little girl who doesn’t understand why her daddy left when it happens.
Nick’s standing in the living room and already in his running clothes when I return from my mini meltdown. “Let’s get whatever stress you’re carrying around pounded out on the trail, and then come home and talk. There’s trouble coming into town tonight, and this may be your last chance to run outside for a while. You can give me a list when we get home, and I’ll have the shopping service pick up groceries.”
What he says makes good sense. I’m not going to be able to get my head straight until I’ve pounded at least five miles of pavement underneath my feet. I head to the closet, pull out a hoodie, and throw it over my head. “I’m pacing out at about an eight-minute mile today. I need to get rid of this alcohol,” I tell him before popping the earbuds in and heading out the door.
I pull the strings of my hoodie tighter, starting out slow, and weaving around patches of still frozen snow before reaching the treed park trail two blocks away. The warm-up songs end, and my pace increases, one foot in front of the other, my breathing synced with the music as the brush and dirt trail pass me by, mile after mile. I’ve barely finished the sixth when a squirrel darts out in front of me, causing me to stumble. Nick catches me just before I hit the ground.
“Whoa, easy there, beautiful.” Nick shifts me in his arms as he steadies me to my feet, his bright blue eyes filled with amusement.
I scowl up at him because as energy expending as that run has been, it hasn’t done a thing to get Nick Montgomery out of my system. “Something’s funny?”
He smirks. “No, I just didn’t expect you to land in my arms so quickly. I thought it would take a few more hours, at least.”
I glare at him and try to catch my breath. “I’m not like other girls. I don’t do relationships.” I touch my ear and scan the area, searching the ground around my feet for the missing earbud.
Nick points to the edge of the dirt trail where the mulch begins. I lean down to retrieve the fallen piece and put it in my hoodie pocket. “That was a rough run. Note to self: do not consume large amounts of alcohol on very little sleep.”
“You run faster than a lot of men I know. Very nice run. Come on; let’s head for home. We can talk there.”
I take a deep breath, drawing in the natural air as we walk our legs out. “Thanks. I didn’t realize you were a runner. You not only kept up but were holding back big time. You run a lot?”
“I was in the military; it’s how we started our day in basic. It always cleared my mind for the day ahead, and the routine stuck with me.”
“Short and long?”
“Both, today was good to release some pent-up energy for both of us, I suspect.”
Nick doesn’t fill the walk with idle conversation. As soon as we reach the apartment, he heads to the kitchen to make a pot of coffee.
“I’m going to take a shower. It won’t take me long, and then you can use it if you like.” I grab fresh clothes from the bedroom before heading into the bathroom. The water is warm and invigorating, just what I need to wash away the alcohol and the sweat.
I blow dry my hair after getting ready and head out to the kitchen feeling much better than I did. Nick slides a mug of freshly brewed coffee across the bar. I take a seat on the stool, watching him as he turns to get some creamer from the refrigerator. “I know from your records that you love this stuff, but I don’t know what color. Tell me when,” Nick says, tilting the container of creamer.
I hold out my hand to signal stop when he reaches a medium color coffee. “Not too dark, and not too milky, just perfect. What else did these records tell you? All about the details of a life that until last month used to be private?”
His eyes meet mine. “Only what we need to know to keep you and Lexie safe. These men are dangerous, and in order to know what they may learn and use as opportunities to get into your life and pick you up, or worse, we need to be prepared.”
My lips tighten with annoyance. There’s not one thing that he’s said that doesn’t make sense, but that doesn’t change the facts. “I’m not mad about the coffee creamer, and I understand why we need the protection and appreciate it. But it doesn’t change the fact that it just feels like such an invasion of my privacy. “That’s not your fault, or Liam or Trent’s, but it’s one more thing that Lexie and me are having to deal with because of these assholes, you know?”
He takes a drink of his coffee. “I can only imagine, but if it helps, I can assure you no one, myself included, is reading your file just to get personal information about you. I just happened to have read it in detail as it was being updated knowing that I may be assigned to your case in the future. Why don’t you make out a grocery list while I’m in the shower? I’ll order for both of us when I get done. We’re having tacos. I understand there’s this amazing place down the street that delivers in just under ten minutes. You were going to order last night but never quite finished.”
I try not to smile at his retreating figure. As hard as I try to dislike him. Gar, that man is just impossible not to like! And, hot, so damn, sinfully hot.
I open the junk drawer, get a pen and paper, and have just about finished drafting a list when he returns. He leans over my shoulder to read, and I breathe in the fresh scent of soap on his skin. He must have brought his own, because nothing in our apartment smells like that. Otherwise, I’d need to sleep with it tucked next to my pillow every single night. His skin is still slightly damp, and a drop of water trails down his bare chest as he walks around the counter and pours himself a cup of coffee. He turns back toward me, and damn if everything south doesn’t clench as the drop trails along the six-pack abs and disappears in the dark hair just above his waistband.
He leans over the bar across from me and turns the piece of paper so that he can read it. “Done with the list?”
I watch him, his blue eyes scanning what I've written, and he enters it into a delivery app. When he’s done, he glances up, his eyes meeting mine. “Two or three tacos?”
“Two, but with a side of the cheesy potatoes. I need comfort food to get rid of the rest of this crazy hangover—which you’re not supposed to know about.”
Nick laughs. “Two tacos and some cheesy potatoes for the lady.” He places the order and then sets his phone down on the counter. “Alright, so now we talk. You’re not alone when it comes to relationships. I’ve never done them. I’ve always worked so many hours far away from home that it didn’t seem to lend itself to getting involved with someone long term.”
“And that’s exactly the way we should keep it. I work all the time. And I’m not the type of girl who will be sitting around waiting for you or anyone else to come home from gallivanting all over the world with a flock of women at your beck and call while you’re away. It’s not the life I plan to live.”
“That’s a pretty sexist remark. I don’t make any excuses for the women I’ve been with, but I wouldn’t be with other women if I were in a relationship. You can trust that.”
Nick has the uncanny knack of seeing right through me and getting to the heart of the matter. Unfortunately, too many years of seeing the same thing happen over and over just doesn’t go away. He says I can trust him, but I can’t, I don’t, and pretending that I do would just be unkind.
