“Except Dad has Mayellen over, and I feel awkward going there.” Mayellen was his dad’s longtime love, and Darla was so happy for him. He deserved happiness after raising all three of his kids alone. With a pang, she remembered how much she missed Angelo. Divorce did bad things to a lot of your other relationships too.
That was just like Nick. Assuming he could stay here. Using his charm to get what he wanted.
He hadn’t changed one bit.
With big, broad shoulders, the callused hands and rugged tan of a working man, and thick, wavy hair that was never completely in place but looked perfect anyway, Nick still had every single trait that pushed all of her attraction buttons. And all the traits that irritated her to death too.
Nick placed his hands on his hips. “I texted you, but when I didn’t hear back, I assumed it was okay. Hadley told me you were flying in tomorrow.”
“Wait, you—” she scrolled through her phone and found the text. Hey, Dar, something’s come up. Okay if I stay over at your place this weekend? Call me back and I’ll explain.
He did sometimes text her. About tile colors. The flooring. All the little details of her remodel. If they stuck to basic conversation like that, they were fine. Because bad things happened when they started to veer off the road into emotional territory. More evidence that it was time to end it. For both their sakes.
“How about going to Tony’s?” His brother was dating her best friend Hadley, and the quaint, old cottage they’d bought was in the middle of a huge renovation.
Nick let out a heavy sigh and leveled a practical gaze at her. “Dar, please let me stay for tonight. Tomorrow I’ll figure something else out, all right?”
Dar. No one else called her that. She used to love how he said her name. But now he said it like she was the one being unreasonable, not him.
Was she unreasonable? She threw up a mental flag, too exhausted to argue. Besides, her house was huge. If he stayed in one of the extra bedrooms, she probably wouldn’t even see him. “Fine.”
“Great.” He flashed a smile that threatened to make her knees go weak. “You won’t even know we’re here.”
Right. “Okey dokey,” she said.
Nick wheeled her suitcase past the kitchen toward her bedroom. “Hey, I made some pasta. With broccoli. You hungry?”
Broccoli? she almost said. She couldn’t recall Nick ever eating anything green.
Her stomach gave a loud rumble, but she ignored its complaint. “Thanks, but I ate at the airport.” She stifled a yawn. “And I need to get to work early, so I’d better go to bed.” She gathered her purse and her computer. There was a time when she would’ve sat down with him and shared food and asked about his family. His dad was surely getting close to retirement age. And his sister, Lucy, who was just finishing her first year at the Culinary Institute of America in upstate New York; how was she taking the move with her almost four-year-old daughter? But chitchat wasn’t going to do anything but muck up her feelings even more.
“Of course you do.” He said it like nothing had changed. She would always be Darla the workaholic, and he’d always be laid-back Nick.
“Well, good night.” As soon as she started down the hall, he stopped her.
“You sure you want to go to bed?” He turned red. “I mean, are you sure you want to go to sleep?”
It was her turn to blush. “What?” Did she hear that right? “You aren’t propositioning me, are you?” Because that would be…embarrassing. And of course, nothing she would ever want.
“No! Of course not.” He sounded adamant.
Oh, okay. Good. She should have felt relief, but she was too confused. “I really have to go to the bathroom.”
He hesitated. “I—um—maybe that’s not such a good idea.”
She raised a questioning brow. “It is if I don’t want to pee on the floor.”
He hiked a thumb behind his shoulder, pointing to the wing of the house opposite her bedroom. “Maybe you could use that bathroom.”
“Good night, Nick,” she said in a firm voice. Enough was enough. She finally broke away, wheeling her bag down the hall.
Now she just had to break away mentally too.
Chapter 2
Nick sat down on the couch, the dog glued to his side, glancing at the second hand on his watch. Five, four, three, two…he braced himself for impact just as Darla came running back into the living room.
She appeared in front of him, her hands balled into fists, lips pursed as she clearly struggled for calm.
Even now, Darla could enter a room and leave him not knowing what hit him. Mowing down his common sense. Filling his senses with her beautiful face, her curly blond hair, and her warm brown eyes. Looks that were deceiving because she often presented a tough don’t-mess-with-me demeanor. But underneath lay a warm heart and a wicked sense of humor that made her unlike anyone he’d ever met. Tangling up his emotions and filling him with wanting. Still.
He cursed silently. “I started on your bathroom a little late, and the tile was delayed. Sorry it’s a mess in there.” He’d meant to tell her, but she’d thrown him by showing up a day early. And just being in the same room with her again had made all his thoughts scatter.
“Did we actually talk about redoing my master bathroom?” Now she was waving her arms. Not good.
“No, but you told me you hated it. And you did pick out that tile.” She probably thought he’d procrastinated, but he hadn’t. Nor could he blame it on the fact that he’d had papers and projects for his MBA program, on top of working full time with his dad. She didn’t know this, but the tile she’d fallen in love with had been out of stock for months. Finally, he’d managed to order it—from Italy. But it had gotten stuck on a cargo ship somewhere out at sea. He’d meant to surprise her with the whole project being done, but now she was coming home to a mess.
“I hate a lot of things. Crowds. War. Brussels sprouts…” She counted on her fingers.
Somehow, he was relieved he didn’t make the list. On the other hand, if she kept going, he was certain she’d call out his name.
The Nick she used to know would’ve been quick to make excuses. But he didn’t have to make them now.
He was great at irritating her, sometimes on purpose. That hid the attraction that still flared between them. Yes, it was much better to have her think he was a deadbeat because he felt too much in her presence. Wanted too much.
And he’d hurt her enough.
Oh, he hadn’t cheated on her. But he’d been jealous of the time she’d spent building her career at a time when his was languishing.
She’d filed for divorce. And in his anger and hurt, he’d said fine.
He hadn’t fought for her. Like his own mother when he was young, who’d left him, Tony, and Lucy silently in the middle of the night, never to return.
No stick-to-it-iveness. His dad had made it a point not to criticize their absent mother, but that was what was implied.
“The tile just arrived to the shop,” he continued, shaking off the memories. “It’ll take me a week tops to put your bathroom back together. And now that you’re home, you can give me your approval on the fixtures that I thought would look nice.”