Chapter 3
Christ, she was cute when she was nervous—and clearly, she was nervous. Lexie took a sip of lemonade from a glass tumbler, looking anywhere but at him. She was just as beautiful as he remembered, perched atop what he assumed was the manager’s desk in her black uniform shirt and cutoff shorts. Her hair was still long, though tonight she had it tied at the nape of her neck, golden waves framing her face. Blue eyes. Creamy skin. And that smile . . .
Legs crossed at the ankles, one of her boots tapped the other repeatedly as she ran her finger around the rim of her cup. “So . . . You’re here.”
“I hope that’s okay.” Nico leaned against the far wall—which wasn’t all that far, three feet maybe.
“Of course,” she said, finally meeting his eyes. “I’m happy to see you.”
More silence stretched between them, loaded seconds piling up on each other until Lexie exhaled in a huff. “Wow. This is so weird.”
“Yeah, it is,” he replied. “How about we just talk about something easy?”
“Like what?”
He shrugged. “Tell me about yourself. I mean, I owe you my life, but I know nothing about you. I’d like to change that.”
At that last, Lexie blushed a little, soft pink staining her cheeks under the bright, fluorescent light.
She’d liked that. Interesting.
He filed that away and listened intently while she described her life here in Mercy Cove. A born and bred small-town girl, she’d lived here since she was a child and had no intention of leaving anytime soon. She’d waitressed at Rusty’s since the day she graduated high school, well before Wade owned it. She resided in a cottage on the outskirts of town—presumably alone, though she didn’t say—with a view of the sea, which she inherited after the unexpected death of her father. No mention of her mother. She had a ragdoll cat named Oreo. And a brother—Jake—who, according to her, was wild and outgoing, currently photographing his way across Europe with a small, yet celebrated, travel magazine called Earth Chronicles.
“What about you?” she asked.
“What about me?”
“Well, the only things I know about you are that you’re from Boston—or at least you were . . .”
“Still am.”
“And you’re a cop,” she finished, eyeing the badge around his neck.
Nico tensed. “Missing persons detective.” At her expression, he frowned. “You seem surprised.”
“No, it’s just, you seem a little young, that’s all. When I think of a police detective, I can’t help but picture an overweight, balding man with a mustache.”
He blinked. “You just described Andy Sipowicz.”
Getting the NYPD Blue reference, Lexie smiled. “It was my dad’s favorite show.”
Nico laughed, the rigidity in his jaw and shoulders melting away as quickly as it had invaded seconds before. “Well, while I appreciate the compliment, thirty-five is not that young, as I have to keep reminding Frank. He keeps calling me ‘kid’ and I’m afraid the nickname is gonna stick.”
“I can see how that might get annoying.” Lexie failed to hide her amusement before her face turned thoughtful. “Your parents must be proud of you.”
“They are.”
“They live in Boston too?”
“Sure do, plus my three happily married—and very opinionated—sisters, and a horde of nieces and nephews I can hardly keep up with.”
Her eyes widened. “Big family.”
“Italians,” he said dryly.
“You’re lucky,” she said.
Nico ran his eyes over her face, taking everything in, realizing he had no idea what it felt like to be all but alone in the world like she did. “Maybe someday you could meet them.”
Lexie scoffed.
“No, I mean it. I’m sure they’d love to meet the woman who saved my life. They’d make a big deal out of it too. Lots of food.”
“You told them about me?”
“I did.”
When her eyes skittered away again, Nico felt compelled to ask something he’d been curious about since she took him into the private office. It was a little cheeky, not exactly tactful, but . . . “So, are you married?”
Their eyes collided. Lexie’s jaw dropped slightly, that wonderful crimson flushing her cheeks. For a moment, she was completely unguarded.
Then she snapped her teeth together. “No.”
“Boyfriend?”
“You’re very direct.”
Nico grinned. “Best way to be. You don’t like it?”
“I didn’t say that.”
She didn’t have to. Her spine looked stiff as an ironing board.
“So?” he prompted.
“No, I don’t have a boyfriend.” Mimicking his earlier statement, she said, “You seem surprised.”
A small smile tugged at his lips. “I am.”
Lexie took another sip of lemonade. How the hell could a woman this amazing be single? The only explanations he could come up with on the spot were that living on an island severely limited her options, or some asshole in her past did a number on her. Based on her timid nature and his gut instinct, which he trusted more than anything, he settled on the latter. Not that it should have mattered, he wasn’t here for that. And as the minutes they spent together convened to form the better part of half an hour, he figured it was about time he got to the point.
“I know I should have come a long time ago,” he said. “I’m sorry I didn’t.”
Lexie lifted one shoulder. “I had no expectations. Truthfully, I never thought I’d see you again. I certainlydidn’t think you’d end up living here.”
Nico considered that. He could have stayed away, maybe should have. Why dredge up traumatic memories she’d probably rather forget? But here he was, so . . .
“I want to thank you for what you did for me that day, Lexie. You saved my life. It’s a debt I’ll never be able to repay, and I’m grateful.”
“Well, I can’t exactly say it was my pleasure”—she peeked at him from beneath long lashes—“but you’re welcome.” After a slight hesitation, she asked, “What happened that day?”
Nico shook his head. “Typical story. I was in a hurry, driving too fast, distracted. I took my eyes off the road for a second, maybe two. But that’s all it took. I saw the barricades too late, just lost control.” He kept his focus on the patterns across the linoleum floor as he continued, consciously staying disconnected from the emotional turmoil associated with the events of that day. “I remember going over the edge. I remember the trees, the sound of the water. Then, nothing. Until I opened my eyes and saw you.”
Lexie’s face held the same expression it had when she’d found him in that wreck, sympathy and worry mixing in the depths of those striking blue eyes.
“I was so scared,” she whispered. “I thought you were dead.”
“I damn near was,” he said. “Then the pain set in, reminding me that I wasn’t. Not yet anyway.”
“It must have been awful, being trapped like that. Not knowing when—or if—you were going to be found.”
“I think what came after was worse,” he said, recalling the grueling six months of physical therapy before he was cleared to return to active duty.
“I often wondered about you.”
He looked up to see her biting her lip like she was embarrassed by the admission. Nico liked that. He also liked the idea of him in her thoughts.
“You did, huh? Were you worried about me?”
“Of course. You looked like something out of a horror movie.”
He grimaced. “Yeah, I guess I did. I’m sorry you had to go through that, though I can’t say I’m sorry you found me. Who knows what would have happened if you didn’t?”
Oh, but he did know. All too well. The doctors outlined it in explicit detail. Another hour, max, and it would have been game over.
“Well,” she said, standing. “I should probably get back to work.”
Nico pushed away from the wall. “Yeah. I’d better go too. I, uh, hope I see you again sometime.”
“Like I said, it’s a small town.” She grinned.
“How about dinner?”
Predicting her reaction, knowing she would not be expecting such a blatant request for a date, Nico observed the way her eyes widened, and her face dropped. Her mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water, all but confirming the impending “no” in neon letters across her forehead.
“Relax.” He laughed. “No pressure. Just know the invitation is there if and when you ever want to take me up on it.”
“Oh.” She cleared her throat. “Okay then.”
She stepped toward the door, lifted her hand to open it, then stopped. He watched her turn and hesitate, saw the unsureness in her eyes, then stood still as a statue as she reached out, tentatively brushing his face—his scar—with her fingertips. Saying nothing, she gently wound her arms around his neck.
Vanilla. He caught the scent on her skin, breathed it in as she quietly said, “I’m glad you’re okay.”
Since the accident, Nico had felt lost, going through the motions of a life he used to love, but that now felt gray and cold and bleak. In less than an hour, she’d begun to change that. Inside, warmth spread through all his frozen places like spring after a long winter, every fiber of his being coming to life again as the ice around his aching heart cracked and crumbled.
Lexie Bowen was a miracle. She had seen him scared, vulnerable, torn to pieces, and she’d saved him. Nico had spent a long time appreciating that, wondering what it would be like to see her again, to talk to her and have her talk back.
Now, he couldn’t believe he’d waited this long.
“Well, this is an interesting development.”
Nico scoffed and made a point of walking straight past Frank as he stood like a schoolgirl waiting for gossip.
“Hey, hold up,” he said, keeping pace with Nico as he aimed for the door.
Nico stopped. “What?”
Frank’s grin was teasing as he pointed a thumb to the bar where Lexie had returned to work, waiting for her tray to be filled, then delivering the drinks to her customers. Nico could tell she was trying not to look his direction. “You wanna tell me how you two know each other?”
“Not particularly.”
“Oh, come on, LT.”
“We’re just . . . old friends. Nothing to tell.”
Nico started toward the exit again.
“Yeah, well, I’m no expert on the fairer sex, but I do know that women don’t look at men all gooey-eyed like that unless there’s something to tell.”
“ ‘Gooey-eyed?’ ”
To answer Nico’s question, Frank stopped and morphed his masculine facial features into a grossly exaggerated swoon, complete with fluttering lashes. Nico blinked—in no way thinking that it even remotely resembled the way Lexie had looked at him—but couldn’t help the laugh threatening to bubble up from his chest.
“Christ,” he mumbled, shaking his head and turning on his heel once more, only to bump right into an off-guard patron who dropped the empty glass he was carrying. The jarring sound of breaking shards cut through the noise of the room and a few people looked over, Lexie and the bar staff included. Nico couldn’t be sure from so far away, but he thought he saw Lexie’s hand fly to her throat and her eyes fill with what could only be described as panic.
“Watch it, asshole!” the man barked before Nico got the chance to apologize. He had cropped blond hair and a scowl that could cut through steel as he pushed Nico’s chest hard enough to make his top half sway backward. “You made me spill my fuckin’ drink.”
Nico frowned at the barely provoked hostility and lifted his chin. “Sorry about that.”
“Damn right you are,” he replied, taking a stance that deposited his weight more evenly—definitely a brawler. “Now, how about you buy me a new one?”
Nico slid his gaze to the mess on the floor, pursing his lips. “Looks like it was empty to me.”
Frank hung back, folding his arms and hovering over Nico’s right shoulder. In his peripheral, Nico could see a smirk on his lips.
“Well, you must be as blind as you are stupid, because it wasn’t,” the guy said.
Nico smelled a good amount of liquor on his breath. More than that, he sensed the roiling aggression, the threat of violence beneath the surface, like a grenade right before the pull of the pin. His heart hammered in his chest, the sound filling his ears and drowning out the sounds of the crowded restaurant. His limbs pulsed with the familiar reserves of adrenaline his body naturally knew to give him in moments like these. Though, to an onlooker, he would have been the epitome of indifference.
After a moment’s consideration, Nico reached for his wallet and dug out a twenty, holding it up between them. “Tell you what,” he said, sliding it across to the redheaded woman behind the bar before the man could take it. “The next time you come in here, first round’s on me. For the trouble.” He gave a meaningful look to the bartender—No more tonight, to which she seemed to interpret well enough as she nodded—then gave the man his most amiable smile. “Have a good night.”
Nico was ready for the rough grab on his jacket before it came, though the need to deescalate the situation evaporated as Frank stepped between them a second later.
“Easy, Kyle,” he said.
At the cool, yet authoritative, warning, the man—Kyle—bristled, his eyes filling with pure venom as he held Nico’s stare.
Nico also noted the tall, bearded man behind the bar had stopped what he was doing to watch. To wait. As had many of the customers.
“You might want to rethink this one, bud,” Frank told Kyle. “Say hello to Nico Dominici, our new lieutenant.”
Kyle’s face slackened by the smallest degree at Frank’s words, deflating some of his previous bravado, but the seething anger remained.
“Yeah, okay,” he said, backing off. “Whatever you say, Frank.”
He stalked away. Nico glanced over to where Lexie was standing seconds before only to find her gone.
Frank slapped him on the back. “Welcome to Mercy Cove.”
Lexie watched Nico leave from her hiding spot by the restrooms, her heart in her throat. She hadn’t noticed Kyle come in, had no idea how long he’d been here, but could guess at least long enough to see her emerge from the back office with Nico. Knowing him, he’d probably dropped his drink on purpose just for the excuse to get in Nico’s face. She tried to tell herself that she’d scurried out of sight to avoid a scene, but the truth was, she was ashamed. It wouldn’t take long for Nico to find out exactly who that little altercation had been with. After that, well, he’d likely avoid her like the plague. Just like they all did. Just like Dalton had . . . in the end.
When she was certain Nico was gone and the crowd had returned to their food and drinks, she ventured out. At least three tables needed clearing, so she got to work stacking plates on top of one another until she heard a derisive voice drawl, “So, who’s your new friend?”
Lexie paused but didn’t turn around, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing her upset.
“Go home, Kyle. You’re drunk.”
He scoffed but left her alone.
It was all Lexie could do to keep the tears at bay as she ran out the back.