“His father.” A flat reply.
I would have liked to ask more, but with her feet free of the boots her shivering couldn’t be ignored.
“Go get changed.”
Her head ducked. “I can’t.”
“You have to. You’re shaking like a leaf in those wet clothes.”
“It’s my only outfit. When I ran, I had only minutes to grab some items.”
“And you prioritized the kid.” Of course she did. “I’ll loan you some clothes. It will be too big, but we can hang your stuff by the stove to dry. I’ll grab it while you dry yourself.”
“Okay.” She entered the bathroom and closed the door softly, prompting me to glance at the mattress by the woodstove. I almost smiled at the sight of Zaza lying on her side, arm looped around Percy.
I went upstairs, ignoring the twinge in my leg. I grabbed a few things, then took a second to strip off the robe and wet shorts to toss on trackpants and a shirt.
I headed back down the stairs and gave a light tap on the bathroom door. “You okay in there?”
“Yes. I managed a tepid shower which helped a bit,” she stated. The tank would have begun cooling soon as we lost power.
“I’ve got the clothes.”
The door cracked open. “Thank you.” She snatched the fabric and drew it into the bathroom.
While she changed, I hit the kitchen and put on the kettle, leaving the whistle part up so it wouldn’t wake the sleeping kid and lizard. It had begun to steam by the time Nicky emerged from the bedroom, wearing my oversized t-shirt that hit her almost to the knee and socks that almost met the hem. She looked lost in the voluminous fabric and sexy as fuck.
I turned away and pulled the moka pot from the burner. “Coffee?”
“Ooh, yes.”
I knew she meant the drink, but damn, there was a sound I wouldn’t mind hearing for another reason.
The dark brew steamed as I poured it in a mug. I turned and handed it to Nicky with a warning. “Careful you don’t burn yourself.”
“More likely I’ll melt. I swear my insides are frozen solid,” she grumbled as she took a sip and closed her eyes with a sigh. “That’s nice.”
“Sorry, I don’t have anything stronger to really warm your belly.”
“That’s okay. I don’t drink.”
“I’ve been trying not to.” I admitted my weakness by accident. What was it about her that had me revealing private parts of myself?
She eyed me over the rim of her cup. “Does alcohol help with the pain of your injury?”
“No. I didn’t start actually drinking too much until my wife left me for my therapist.”
Nicky blinked. “That must have been a shock.”
“Just a little. They took my dog too.” That emerged on a much more bitter note.
“Now, that’s just cruel,” she huffed. “Bad enough she betrayed you, she didn’t have to leave you with nothing.”
Her vehement reply took me by surprise. “I got the house.”
“Would you have traded it for your dog?”
“Yeah.”
