When later came, I tried several times more, all with the same result. I drummed my fingers on the table, feeling strangely unsettled. “I don’t like it, Mads.”
“No shit.” Mads handed me an open beer. “And we both know your instincts are pretty much on the money. You’ve proved that more times than I can count this year.”
Always there. Always having my back.And he was right. “Call back the owner of the cottage and take those extra nights while I change the flights. If Chloe still isn’t answering in the morning, we’ll head over to her place anyway. Fuck Austin.”
Mads clinked his bottle against mine. “There’s my boy.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
MADIGAN
Neither of us slept well,and by the time the grey light of morning striped our bed, we’d already downed our first cups of coffee and were onto our second as we tried to make sense of everything that had transpired the day before.
Nick was sitting in bed with his back against the pillows and coffee in hand. My breath caught at that gorgeous silver-haired chest on full display, the tattooed owl over his heart staring out into the grey mist hanging over the vineyard trellises. He sported a thick scruff, red-rimmed eyes, and a troubled expression.
“Everything might be above board, but I can’t shake the feeling that it’s not,” he mused. “Austin was way too defensive, for a start. He threatened us with the police, for fuck’s sake.”
Nick hummed thoughtfully as he made circles with his coffee mug on the bed. “You have to remember, he doesn’t know you’re Chloe’s son. To him you’re a stranger having tea with his stepmother”—I raised my hands at the pissy look my comment earned—“or whatever you want to call her.”
Nick sighed and slid his empty cup onto the bedside table. “I’m sorry. It’s just that I feel I’m being roped into somethingI didn’t sign up for. After today, I think I want some kind of relationship with Chloe. I’ve come that far. But all this stuff with Austin? It’s such a mess.”
“I know.” I put my own coffee mug aside and stretched out beside him, my hand coming to rest on his warm belly, my thoughts soft and fuzzy at the edges as they always were when I touched him. My gaze drifted to the patio doors and the muted yellow glow of a rising sun hanging eerily behind a curtain of fog. The curse of winter valleys cut with rivers and old marshland the world over, Blenheim suffered more than its fair share of fog.
Nick’s arms encased me as they always did whenever we lay close; the musty scent of sleep mixed with the remains of last night’s sexual exploits lingering on our skin was oddly comforting. Of all the things we did together, these quiet moments were the ones I treasured most.
Nick, no doubt, had a gazillion memories of moments like this that he’d shared with Davis. Me? Not so much. The few relationships I’d had never seemed to progress to quiet cuddle times—as much my fault as anyone I’d been with at the time. Having someone sleep in my bed and in my space had been a big enough hurdle to overcome without magnifying the uneasy feeling it generated.
I almost laughed, wondering where that man had disappeared to?
With Nick Fisher in my bed, I couldn’t get enough of him. His touch. His kisses. His quiet presence. I craved it all. I wanted to curl around him and spend every weekend doing exactly this. Lying in Nick’s arms and talking about nothing and everything. Planning our future together. Making a life for more than one.
Nick tipped my chin up for a kiss. “You wanna share what’s going on in that pretty little head of yours?”
I rolled onto my stomach and lost myself in those soft grey eyes.
Nick pulled the sheet over my naked arse, smiling as he did so. “Gotta protect the assets.” He patted my buttocks. “Now, spill.”
“It’s really nothing,” I lied, then thought better of it. “Sorry, that’s not true. Rather it’s you...you’reeverything.”
He blinked. “That’swhat you were thinking?”
I smiled at his surprise. “I was thinking how much my life has flipped on its head since I met you. Even something as simple as chilling in bed with a man. Withyou.I’ve never been comfortable doing that. Like just being with me was never going to be enough to hold on to anyone. I always needed to be... more. Bed meant sex. It meant pleasing someone, usually younger, and proving I could be an interesting person, an exciting lover. It was quite frankly exhausting. That’s partly why I decided to stop trying.”
Nick smiled sadly. He knew the story. “And now?”
I looked up at the ceiling, gathering my thoughts before I met his gaze once more. “Now? Now, doing nothing with you is one of my favourite ways to pass the time. And that set me to wondering if that’s how you really measure what love is.”
His brow creased. “By doing nothing?”
“No.” I poked him in the chest. “By how youfeelduring those nothing times. And I’ve come to the conclusion that I’ve never really been in love.”
He was clearly trying hard not to smile. “And that’s because of how you feel in the nothing times?”
“Exactly.” I tapped him on the nose. “BecauseIthink the kind of love that lasts is shown by how you feel doing absolutely nothing with the other person and doing it on a regular basis. It’s about having someone who is interested in even the most boring parts of your day. It’s about cuddling on the couch, watching movies, looking after your person when they’re sick or feeling down, or even lying in bed cursing their snores or reading abook in the same room without talking. If that makes your heart happy, then you know you have a love worth nurturing.”
Nick finally smiled. “Well, if that’s your measure of enduring romantic love, then it certainly takes the pressure off.”
I reached for his dick, making him yelp. “I’m serious.”
