Chapter 17 #2
“Speaking of walking,” Joe said as he opened his door.
“My place is only a couple of blocks. I could use a leg stretch. Besides, I want to get my notes sorted out. This story’s not going to write itself.
” He paused at the door. “For what it’s worth, I’m going to try to be fair to Kelsey.
Focus on the blackmail angle and the fact that she was being coerced. ”
“That’s generous of you,” Gina said.
“Maybe. Or maybe I just understand what it’s like to make bad choices when you’re desperate.” Joe shouldered his bag. “Either way, the story needs to be told. Better that it comes from someone who was there than some stranger who’ll get it wrong.”
As Joe got out, Nick looked in the mirror at Gina. “Want to hop up here or prefer me to act as the chauffeur?”
She shrugged. “I’m fine here, but I’m wiped out. Can you take me home?”
“Of course.”
“I need a shower,” Gina said. “And about twelve hours of sleep.” She was exhausted, the kind of deep tired that followed long hours and high-stakes work.
She’d never been in a life-or-death situation as she had with George, but ER rotation could be almost as stressful.
Her muscles were stiff, her mind restless, and yet she knew she would get through it.
Gina gave him directions to her place. As he pulled up to the curb, he said, “I’ll walk you to your door.”
A flutter of nerves ran through her. “Um, yes, sure.”
Every step toward her house felt both heavy and light. Her mind raced with what-ifs, but beneath it all, there was a pulse of hope she hadn’t let herself feel in years.
Could she really let someone in? Could she trust that Nick and this connection were real and steady enough to hold on to?
She shook off a flicker of doubt and tried to steady her breathing. Maybe it was foolish. Maybe it was dangerous. But for the first time since everything had happened, she wanted to risk it.
“So . . . ” Nick said as they reached the porch. “About that coffee.”
Gina’s heart stuttered. Last night in the hallway, wrapped in his arms while the others slept, she’d told him to ask her out properly when they got back to town. She hadn’t actually expected him to do it immediately.
“Coffee?”
“You said to ask you out. Coffee or dinner or something.” He shifted his weight, and she realized he was nervous.
Nick, who’d faced down a grizzly and a murderous criminal without flinching, was nervous about asking her on a date.
“So, I’m asking. Tomorrow night, if you’re not too exhausted from police interviews. ”
The practical answer was obvious. Yes. Of course, yes. But standing on her porch in the bright sunshine, back in the real world where her carefully controlled life was waiting, all her old fears came rushing back.
“Nick, I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”
His face fell, but he didn’t step back. “Why not?”
“Because last night we were still in survival mode. Everything felt intense because we’d just escaped death. But now we’re home and reality is setting in and— ” She gestured helplessly. “What if this was just adrenaline? What if we’re making a mistake?”
“Is that what you think this is?”
“I don’t know what to think. Two days ago, I didn’t know you existed. Now I’m supposed to believe we have something real?”
Nick was quiet for a long moment. When he spoke, his voice was steady, but she could hear the hurt underneath. “I thought we settled this last night. I thought you meant it when you said you wanted to see if this was real.”
“I did mean it. I do. But standing here now, looking at my house and my life and everything I’ve built to keep myself safe .
. . ” She wrapped her arms around herself.
“I’m terrified, Nick. What if you leave?
What if you decide Irma is too small or I’m too complicated or you meet someone who isn’t carrying around all this baggage? ”
“What if I don’t?” He moved closer, not touching her but close enough that she could feel his warmth. “What if I’m exactly who I showed you I was? What if I stay and build something here and prove to you every single day that you can count on me?”
“You can’t promise that.”
“You’re right. I can’t promise I won’t mess up or that everything will be perfect. But I can promise I’ll show up. I can promise that when things get hard, I won’t run.”
His hand lifted, hovering near her face, waiting for permission. “Gina, I’ve been running for a year. Couch to couch, town to town, convincing myself I was keeping my options open when really I was just too scared to commit to anything because commitment meant risk.”
She let him cup her cheek, felt herself lean into the touch despite her fear.
“Then I met you,” he continued. “And for the first time in a year, I wanted to stop running. I wanted to stay somewhere. Build something. Risk something.” His thumb brushed her cheekbone. “You’re not the only one who’s terrified. But I think maybe that means it’s worth it.”
“What if it’s not enough?” Her voice came out small. “What if I need you and you leave anyway?”
“Then you survive it. Because you’re the strongest person I’ve ever met.
” His other hand found her waist. “But I’m not going to leave.
I’m going to stay in Irma and start a remodeling business.
I’m going to find an actual apartment instead of living out of my SUV and bothering Brooke.
And I’m going to take you on the most normal, boring date you’ve ever been on so you can see that this isn’t just crisis-induced intensity. ”
Despite everything, Gina felt a smile tug at her lips. “Boring?”
“Painfully boring. The greasiest greasy spoon. Maybe a movie. I’ll tell you about my day, and you’ll tell me about yours, and we’ll discover whether we can stand each other when nobody’s trying to kill us.”
“That does sound boring.”
“Good boring or bad boring?”
She studied his face, this man who’d crashed into her life and turned everything upside down in less than forty-eight hours. She could say no. Could protect herself. Could go back to her safe, controlled, lonely life.
Or she could choose bravery.
“Good boring,” she whispered. “The best kind of boring.”
“So that’s a yes to tomorrow night?”
“That’s a yes. But not a greasy spoon. I know a place. We’ll go there and do whatever normal people do when they’re trying to figure out if they fit together.”
Nick’s smile was worth every ounce of fear churning in her stomach. “Fair warning, I’m probably going to be terrible at normal.”
“Yeah, well, I’m probably going to panic and try to push you away approximately seventeen times.”
“I’ll keep count.” His hand slid from her face to caress her hair. “Gina?”
“Hmm?”
“Can I kiss you? Properly this time. No storm interruptions, no life-or-death situations. Just us.”
Her breath caught. This was it. The moment where she either chose safety or chose him. Where she either let fear win or finally let herself want something more than just survival.
Her pulse fluttered in her throat, wild and uncertain, but beneath it was something quieter—an ache that had waited years to be met halfway.
“Yes,” she said.
Nick closed the distance slowly, giving her time to change her mind, to pull away. But Gina didn’t pull away. She rose on her toes and met him halfway. And when their lips finally touched, it was nothing like the desperate kiss in the SUV.
This was a promise. A beginning. A choice made with open eyes and full knowledge of all the ways it could go wrong.
His mouth was gentle at first, testing, asking. But when she made a small sound and pressed closer, the kiss deepened into something that made her knees weak and her heart race and every careful wall she’d built around herself feel suddenly, beautifully unnecessary.
When they finally broke apart, both breathing hard, Nick rested his forehead against hers.
“Still think this is just adrenaline?” he asked.
“No,” Gina admitted. “I think we’re in serious trouble.”
“Good trouble or bad trouble?”
“I’ll let you know after that boring date.”
He laughed, the sound rumbling through his chest where she was pressed against him. “I should let you get inside. You need sleep.”
“I do.” But she didn’t move away. “Nick?”
“Yeah?”
“Thank you for not giving up on me. When I said I didn’t know you, when I pushed you away, you could have walked away. Most people would have.”
“I’m not most people.” He pressed a kiss to her forehead. “And you’re worth fighting for.”
She watched him walk back to his SUV, watched him pause at the driver’s door to look back at her. When he smiled, she felt something settle inside her that had been restless her entire adult life.
Maybe this was what it felt like to stop running from connection.
Around them, Irma continued its quiet Sunday afternoon. Neighbors working in yards. Cars passing on their way to somewhere. The ordinary rhythms of small-town life.
But for Gina, everything had changed. Tomorrow, she’d deal with police interviews and media attention and all the complicated aftermath of what had happened at Bearwater. Tomorrow, she’d probably panic and try to push Nick away at least once.
But right now, standing on her porch with the taste of his kiss still on her lips, she let herself believe that she could trust again. Could need someone without losing herself. Could build something real with a man who lived out of his SUV and had no fixed plans beyond staying.
She went inside, closed the door, and let herself smile.