Chapter 36
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
MACKENZIE
“Mommy. Why is Mr. Dixon in your bed?”
My eyes fly open to find my five-year-old standing at the edge of the bed, his tiny face scrunched in confusion. Shit.
I yank the covers to my neck and sneak a glance at Nate. At least he’s covered. Thank God for small favors. Explaining why a naked man’s junk is hanging out wasn’t how I planned to start my morning.
“Mommy?” Nick’s voice holds a note of impatience.
“Um.” Yeah, I’ve got nothing.
“Hey, buddy.” Nate’s voice is thick with sleep, and the roughness makes my skin prickle in memory of last night. My pulse skips. Incredible doesn’t even begin to cover it. But I didn’t think about the morning consequences, and now I’m paying for them.
Nick cocks his head. “Uncle Jordan tried to come over, but Grandma shooed him away.”
I exhale. Of course he did.
“Mommy, why do you hate Uncle Jordan?”
Jesus. It’s way too early for this. I glance at Nate, who’s watching with quiet amusement. “I don’t hate Uncle Jordan. I’m just mad at him for not listening to me. ”
Nick’s big blue eyes widen as his voice turns serious. “I always listen.”
Nate’s chuckle is low and carefree. A much different tone than when he woke up from the nightmare.
“I know you do, honey. Sometimes, Uncle Jordan is careless, and his carelessness gets people hurt.”
“Like with Liam?”
“Exactly. I don’t want to take another chance of him hurting you.” That probably wasn’t the best thing to say, but his quick okay ended the conversation.
“I’m hungry. Can we have waffles?”
“Sure. Go wake up your brother, and I’ll be right out.”
“Yeah, waffles.” Nick bolts from the room, yelling for his brother. Crisis averted. For now.
“Oh my God.”
I sag against the pillow, but Nate’s hand glides over my stomach, pulling my focus back to him. His amber eyes burn into me, filled with something deeper than heat. Love? He’s never said the words, but in moments like these, I feel them.
“I’m sorry,” he murmurs. “We sort of crashed last night.”
I can’t stop the smile from forming. “You think?”
His lips trail over my shoulder. He groans, the vibrations dancing across my skin. “Last night was incredible. I hate to get up.”
“Me too,” I admit. “But if I don’t hurry, Nick will be back in here.”
That gets him moving quickly. He kisses my forehead and climbs out of bed. I try not to gawk at his gloriously toned body, but damn. Confidence from last night vanishes in the daylight, and I stay tucked under the sheets until he dresses and heads to the kitchen.
Once he’s gone, I quickly get dressed and go make breakfast.
“You want blueberries in your waffles?” I ask, measuring the flour.
Three voices chime in with yeses.
“Okay then.”
“I’ll get them for you.” Nate strides over to the refrigerator. Seeing him so effortlessly fitting into our morning routine shouldn’t make my heart ache, but it does.
As he washes the berries, Liam recounts his night with Grandma. “We played this old dice game. Grandma said Mom used to play it, so it must be ancient.”
Nate chuckles. “It must be prehistoric, then.”
“Hey!” I swat his ass with a wooden spoon. Bad move. His firm muscles barely register the hit, but the spoon snaps back and smacks my leg. The kids burst out laughing.
“Well, now that I’ve embarrassed myself…” I huff, rubbing my thigh. “What game?”
“Yahzoo,” Nick says, his lips puckering at the last syllable.
“No, it’s Yahtzee .” Liam corrects, exasperated. “I told you this a million times.”
“But I like saying ‘zoo.’ It’s fun.” Nick shrugs. “Plus, I want to go see the penguins.”
“We’ll have to remedy that once Liam’s leg heals.” Nate chuckles as I mix the batter.
Nick cheers, but my mind latches onto something else, Nate speaking like we have a future. “Yay! I finally get to go see them!”
I swallow hard. What he needs to tell me must not be about leaving. So what is it? I decide to wait until after breakfast to ask. The sooner we eat, the sooner we can talk.
“Are the kids settled?” Nate asks.
“Yeah. Nick’s glued to Liam’s side.”
He pats the couch cushion beside him. “I don’t know. I never tire of their mom by my side.”
Heat floods my face as I sit beside him.
“Last night, you kept telling me we needed to talk, but I deterred you,” I admit.
His eyebrow quirks. “Is that what you’re calling it?”
I lick my lips, trying to suppress a smile. “I did have a goal last night.”
“Not gonna lie. I like an ambitious woman.” He laughs as I slap his chest. Then he clears his throat. “I do have something I need to tell you, though. It’s something I should’ve said from the beginning.”
“I already know.”
His body stiffens. “You know ?”
“Yeah, and you don’t have to explain if you’re not ready. I understand.”
He exhales, his expression unreadable. “I don’t think you do.”
“Stop,” I press a hand to his chest. “Whatever it is, I get it. But I wonder … does it have anything to do with your nightmares?”
He lets out a ragged breath. “Yeah. It does.”
“There’s no need to apologize. Do you want to talk about it?”
Nate’s jaw clenches. He remains quiet for so long that I don’t think he will answer. Then he turns to face me with so much pain reflecting in his eyes that my heart squeezes. “You’ll never know how sorry I am.”
I have to put a stop to his pain. I can’t stand it. “You don’t have to apologize. It’s not a big deal. I’ve known for a while.”
The pain in his eyes turns to confusion as he studies me. “You have?”
“Yeah. When my brother showed up last week, he told me you lied about being from San Francisco. He said you’re actually from San Diego.”
His lips part momentarily, and then he shakes his head as if I’ve stunned him. But he had to have seen this coming.
“Was he right?” I press.
“Uh, yeah. I grew up in San Diego.”
“Why did you tell me you were from San Francisco?”
“Honestly, I have no clue other than I hate talking about my past. I studied at Cessna University in Los Angeles, but my National Guard unit was based in San Francisco. Maybe that’s where I drew the connection.”
“You don’t have to tell me the story if it bothers you that much.”
“After witnessing one of my nightmares, I think I should.” He rubs his palms along his thighs. “I already told you how I lost my mom, but I held back the details for a reason.” He closes his eyes, taking a few calming breaths. When they reopen, he isn’t looking at me. He stares straight ahead, his expressionless mask firmly in place.
Hello, Mr. Broody. I see you’re back.
“What I’m about to tell you, I haven’t told anyone except for the police and the shrink children services had provided.”
A pang in my chest squeezes tight. My mouth dries. I’m not sure I want to hear this story, after all.
He lets out a humorless laugh and gives his head a little shake. “I was up in my bedroom, working on my history project. We had to recreate a World War II battle scene, and I considered constructing one from Legos. Anyway, I heard what sounded like glass shattering. Mom had always been a bit clumsy.” A small smile crosses his lips from the remembrance, but it falls as quickly as it came. “I didn’t check it out, thinking she had broken another glass or dish. It wasn’t until I heard her scream that I knew something was awry.”
I hold still, fighting the urge to reach out and touch him.
“I sprang from the floor and ran down the stairs, but by the time I got there, they had already stabbed her multiple times.” His jaw ticks. His voice is deep and even, emotionless. Almost as if he placed a shield around his emotions and melted the only key.
“Blood was everywhere. All over the kitchen floor. Splattered on the walls. The refrigerator. I stood at the doorway, motionless.” His voice cracks. “I was useless.”
“You were just a kid.”
“Yeah, but I should’ve done something. Anything but stand there.”
“You would’ve been killed. ”
“I’ll never erase that scene from my mind. Or the words that followed.”
I gulp, desperate for him to stop talking but knowing he needs to finish the story.
“As I stood motionless, the murderer turned those coal-black eyes to me and smirked. The son of a bitch just stabbed my mom, and he smirked.” Nate runs his hand through his hair and huffs. “His words were cold and calculating. He said, ‘Tell your dad to pay his debts, or you’ll be next.’”
I shudder. “Did they catch him?”
“Eventually. It took some time since dear ole Dad had screwed multiple people out of their money in some type of laundering scheme. His fucking greed ended with my mom dead and him in jail.”
“What about you?”
“Me.” He scoffs. “Let me tell you what I did. Mom still had a pulse after the guy left, but I couldn’t get the bleeding under control. It took years, but I finally got a hold of her file. She suffered multiple lacerations, but it was the three to her spleen that were fatal.”
“Oh, God.”
“I didn’t want anything to do with my dad. My official last name is hyphenated. Some hippie-dippy shit my mother insisted on. I hated it growing up, but it worked to my advantage when I dropped his name and distanced myself from him.”
That explains so much.
“I made my dad sign the waiver so I could join the army earlier. I became a surgeon to save lives. I found my purpose. It helped until recently.”
He opens his mouth to speak, but I cut him off. “That’s enough confession time today.”
“But there’s more. I need to tell you the rest.”
“You don’t have to. Believe me, I may not fully understand your pain, but you’re mad at yourself for not doing anything. But you were a kid. Look what I did with Liam.” When his eyebrows furrow, I explain, “When we came upon that scene, I froze. I couldn’t even look at his mangled leg. If it wasn’t for you stopping the bleeding, I”—a cold shudder races down my spine at the thought of him losing his leg—“would’ve let him bleed out.”
“You wouldn’t have. I just stepped in right away.”
“Yeah, but what kind of nurse am I going to be if I can’t assess the patient?”
“That was your son lying there. You were a mother first.”
“And you were a son first.”
Something shifts in his eyes. Appreciation and understanding, maybe? I don’t know, but his phone pings with a text, interrupting whatever he is going to say.
“You may as well check that. Like I said, I don’t think my heart can take much more today.”
He smiles softly at me. “You are incredible.”
“Just remember that when I turn my crazed bitch side on you.”
“You’re too hard on yourself.” He glances down at his phone and stands. “Can I borrow your computer?”
“Oh, sure. It’s over on the desk.”
“I need to look something up. I’ll only be a minute.”
“The password is Kitten2Purrfect. The K and P are capitalized.” I laugh at Nate’s incredulous expression. “Don’t judge. It’s been my password since I was a teen. It’s easy to remember.”
“No judgment here.”
“You want any more coffee?”
“Sure.”
I gather our mugs and head to the kitchen. When I return with the steaming cups of joe, Nate has his shoes on and stands by the door.
“Sorry, but I have to go.”
“Okay, I guess I’ll see you later tonight?” I set the mugs down on the coffee table and stand by him.
He hesitates. “I may have to drive into the city later. I’m unsure how long it’ll take, but I doubt I’ll return tonight. I’ll let you know.” He wraps his hands around my waist and leans his forehead to mine. “I hate leaving you.”
“Then don’t.”
“Aw, I wish I didn’t have to.” He kisses the tip of my nose. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow.”
I watch him leave, trying to process everything he told me. I love him. Complications and all. But does he love me enough to stay?