Chapter 20
Nick woke with a pounding headache and a cheery-as-fuck sunbeam assaulting his eyes.
He groaned and sat up, sending a pillow tumbling to the floor. What time was it? Hell, what day was it?
He clutched his head and forced himself to think. Right. Saturday. Float-building day. Which meant he would see Aubrey in
a few hours. And he couldn’t be any less prepared. Or any more hungover.
Last night, with Paige sleeping over at Maria’s again, he’d gone out barhopping with Jackson. Which hardly made sense, considering
his best friend didn’t drink and Nick didn’t care for it, either. But Jackson had taken one look at him after sparring, said,
“Man, this woman has you strung out,” and declared Nick in need of a “recovery” night.
Some fucking recovery.
Now he shut his eyes against the brightness and tried to squeeze the ache from his head with brute force. But the fists pressed
to his temples couldn’t expunge the throb. Or the images emblazoned on his mind. For days, he’d thought of nothing but Aubrey
and Gallant. Talking. Laughing. Kissing. Probably even having—
A wave of nausea threatened. Nick flung the blanket aside, then stumbled to the bathroom and downed four tablets of ibuprofen dry. Jesus, he hadn’t been this hungover in years.
In desperation, he sucked water straight from the faucet. Tansy was already up, as evidenced by the scent of bacon weighting
the air. His stomach simultaneously revolted and whimpered in anticipation.
In the kitchen, Tansy sat at the breakfast table already. “Morning, Sleeping Beauty.”
He grunted and went to the stove. Cream-cheese-scrambled eggs and bacon awaited. Essentially a heart attack on a plate, but
it would do miracles for his stomach.
He dropped into the chair opposite her. “Thanks for cooking.”
She chewed, her expression mild. “Thanks for paying Paige’s internship fee.”
“Yeah. No problem.”
“Did you have fun last night?”
He scowled. He knew what she thought—that he’d been out with Aubrey. That he was the one talking to and laughing with and kissing her. That he’d gotten to taste that hollow between her collarbones again,
maybe pressed her against a wall while he lapped at it with his tongue, made her make that little sound where—
Ugh. He crammed some eggs into his mouth to stop his brain from churning out lurid fantasies. That was Gallant’s territory,
now.
“I’m guessing that’s a yes,” Tansy said.
“I was with Jackson.” Nick moved on to the bacon. “Not . . . her.”
She eyed him. “I told you, I don’t care. Fuck whoever you want to fuck. I hope she blew your mind. Among other things.”
His headache roared back full force. Had she really just said that?
Well, yeah. It was Tansy. “It’s not like that. Really. I haven’t seen her in days.”
Her eyes slitted. “Come on, at least be straight with me. I deserve that much.”
He tightened his jaw and plunked down his fork. “I am being straight. It’s like I said, I wasn’t with her. I haven’t touched her since she’s been back. At all.”
“What, I’m supposed to believe you’ve just suddenly lost interest? After all that pining?”
“I don’t pine.” His scowl deepened. He totally fucking pined. “And no, of course I haven’t lost interest. She’s the one who—” He cut himself off with a clack of his teeth. “You know what? We’re not discussing this. This is too weird,
even for you.”
Tansy rolled her eyes and rose to bring her plate to the sink, but a quavering voice from the other room brought her up short.
“Daddy? Mom?”
The bottom of Nick’s stomach dropped out. Shit. What was Paige doing home? Had she heard them? It sounded like it. A hesitant note soured her usual sunshine.
He jumped up and squeezed past Tansy, forgetting her existence before she’d even left his eyeline. “Peanut? I thought you
were at Maria’s. Didn’t you say you weren’t coming back until ten?”
In the living room, Paige stood by the couch, her eyes wide, her overnight bag on the floor beside her. “It is ten.”
He winced. A glance at the clock on the mantel proved her right.
“What were you and Mom talking about?” Uncertainty dampened her tone. “Just now?”
He stuffed his hands into the pockets of his flannel pajama pants. He wouldn’t disrespect her by lying, but he wasn’t about
to provide the details. “Um . . . personal stuff.”
Paige’s blue eyes were uncharacteristically clouded. “It sounded weird.”
Well, it had felt weird, too. But he’d rather stab himself in the face than admit that Tansy had just accused him of having
a sex marathon with their float-building partner, so he said, “Mom was just confused about something. And I was explaining.”
“Oh.” Surprisingly, Paige sounded at least mildly reassured. “Okay. Well . . . I thought maybe we could go grab breakfast
before heading out to the farm.”
His heart squeezed. “What, just you and me?”
“Yeah.”
Despite everything, he melted around the edges. “I’d love that. Just let me go get dressed, all right?”
“Okay.”
Nick retreated to his bedroom, where he swapped his pants and undershirt for the first items of clothing he laid hands on.
Tansy followed him in, her eyes sparking.
“I had one condition,” she hissed. “One. And that was that this Aubrey thing doesn’t affect her. Which means you need to fix it. Now.”
“I know,” he hissed back. Never mind that she’d been the one so dedicated to prying. “I know.”
Two minutes later, he was back in the living room, keys in hand. Paige hadn’t moved.
He hustled her to the truck, oddly desperate to get her out of the house. Once they’d climbed in, he jammed the key into the
ignition, but didn’t start the engine.
“Look.” He cleared his throat. “Your mother and I might disagree sometimes, but I don’t want you to worry. It’s never going
to affect you. I won’t let it, and I’m not going anywhere. Not ever. You understand that, right?”
A wan smile tugged at Paige’s mouth. “I know. It’s not even that, really. It’s just . . .” Her eyes slid to her lap. She picked at a fingernail.
“What?”
“Are you . . . happy?” She raised her eyes. “I wonder, sometimes.”
He hesitated. Well, shit. Happiness. What did that feel like? Did he even know? His mind searched for experiences that matched
the word and dredged up moments from years ago.
Happiness . . .
His first kiss. That had been happiness—pressing Aubrey against a frozen brick wall while he ignited inside. He remembered, too, what it had felt
like later, hearing her breathing change as they lay in the darkness and sought sleep in each other’s arms. Not to mention
their night together in front of her fireplace. Jesus Christ, that night by the fireplace.
The moments didn’t end there, though. There were more. Ones that had come after.
He thought of how his soul had grown to eclipse the entire known universe when he’d held his baby daughter for the first time.
He’d kissed the bottoms of Paige’s tiny feet and marveled at their softness, at skin that had never seen a shoe or taken a
step. That had been happiness. So was the way she’d questioned everything as a child, how she’d made him stop to think about things
he’d hardly even noticed before, like why water swirled around a drain and owls only hooted at night.
Then she’d grown into a young woman who made the score to The Sound of Music swell in the background whenever she was around.
“I’m plenty happy,” he said carefully. “I know it might not seem like it, and I can be a grouchy old man sometimes. But that’s
just me. It doesn’t mean there aren’t things I live for. Like being your dad. Being your family. That’s the happiest thing
in my whole damn life. It always has been.”
Paige’s eyes softened. She reached for his hand, coaxing open the clenched fist he’d unwittingly pressed into the bench seat. “You know you’re the best dad I could ask for, right?”
The band that had clamped around his chest days ago loosened a fraction. “Thanks, Peanut. And you’re a hundred times more
incredible than I ever expected. I couldn’t be prouder to call you my daughter. You know that, I hope.”
“Obviously.” She smiled, lopsided. “I just . . . wish you had everything you wanted. That you were happy every minute of every
day. Because of everyone I know, you’re the one who deserves that most.”
Mist sprang up behind his eyes. Shit, could she be any sweeter?
But he couldn’t cry. Not when she was the one who needed reassuring. “Thanks. But it’s not your job to worry about me. It’s
my job to worry about you. So you just leave my moody bullshit to me, okay? I’ll be fine, as long as you are.”
She smiled. Not with her usual brightness, but close. “Okay. If you say so.”
He tugged his hand away, then started the truck and swiped at his eyes when she wasn’t looking. Paige leaned back, her attention
on the window. He drove in silence, knowing it wouldn’t take long before she banished the lingering shadows with her shine.
Sure enough, she started talking inside of a minute, filling the cab with her chatter.
Nick drove toward that new café on Ivy and Harkness—Lindy’s Place? Windy’s Place?—while Paige updated him on school, math
club, and college admissions. Apparently, she and Maria had decided to apply to the same schools and hoped to room together,
wherever they ended up.
He made affirmative noises at every opportunity.
Paige eventually moved on to an article she’d read, about astronomers who’d discovered a planet that resembled a giant marshmallow.
“Can you imagine? A marshmallow! A marshmallow! Maybe I’ll get to do that someday.
Find a whole planet that could float in a bathtub. Maybe I’ll name it after you.”
He chuckled. “Me? Why? Because I’m just so damn fluffy?”
“No.” She giggled. “Because you lighten up my world. Get it?”
“Oh, wow.” He shook his head. “We’re making density jokes, now?”
“We sure are.”
He blew out a breath. “Okay. Whatever floats your boat, kiddo.”
She tinkled a bell-like laugh. “I see what you did there. And guess what? It only makes me love you s’more. Get it? Because
marshmallows. Ha!”