She knows.
We all needed each other.
Raelynn
Pushing my empty breakfast plate away, I watch Nash work on his second helping of migas. “I’m gonna need to go shoppin’ this afternoon. Not used to cookin’ for two.”
“This,” he scoops up a forkful of eggs, “is amazing.”
“Ain’t nothin’ special.”
The way this man looks at me, it’s like I’ve given him the world. Not a haphazard skillet of eggs, salsa, cheese, and crushed tortilla chips.
“Raelynn.” He reaches across the corner of the table to take my hand. “Everything I own fits in one duffel bag. I’ve never had a bank account. Or a credit card. When I cook, it’s ramen, mac and cheese, and whatever fruits and vegetables I can scavenge out of the grocery store dumpster.”
I don’t know what to say. In all of our conversations, everything we’ve shared over the past two weeks, he’s never been this raw. This honest.
“Believe it or not, I like cookin’. I’ll run through all my mama’s recipes for you. As long as you do the dishes.”
“Deal,” he says quietly and scoops up the last bite of eggs.
“Tell me about your life, darlin’. Not the polished version you’ve been feedin’ me. The real one.”
He stares at the empty plate for a full minute before taking a long drag on his coffee.
“When Frank was alive, things were…more normal. We’d move to a new town, rent an old house or a halfway decent apartment for a year, and…live. My clothes came from Goodwill, but I had a cell phone. A second-hand computer. Basic cable. At least until I turned twenty-three.”
“What happened then?” I’m not sure I want to know.
“I left.” He runs a hand through his thick hair. A few wisps of gray catch the light amid the brown. “Frank moved us to Reno. It was hot and dry and I was so fucking sick of not being in control of my own destiny. I thought…” Squeezing his eyes shut, he sighs. “Pretty sure everyone’s an idiot at twenty-three.”
Nash picks up our plates and carries them into the kitchen. I follow, leaning against the counter when he turns on the faucet.
“Even after…I did okay for a while. We had a joint bank account. Frank saved every penny, so if I needed money, I had somewhere to go. Until he got sick. Cancer’s fucking expensive when you don’t have insurance.”
His shoulders slump, and I reach over and turn off the water. “Nash, look at me.”
In his gaze, I find a mirror to my own sorrow. But his goes deeper.
Reaching into his pocket, he pulls out a flattened penny. “Frank used to call me the luckiest kid on the planet. I never believed him. It’s not lucky to lose everyone you love. Everyone who loves you.” The penny tumbles from one finger to another, the move so practiced, he can probably do it in his sleep. “I’ve been running so long, I don’t know how to do anything else.”
“You ain’t alone anymore, darlin’.” He wraps his arms around me, burying his face in the crook of my neck. “You can find a home here.”
“Not if Duncan—”
Drawing back, I grip his shoulders. “Even if Duncan’s death wasn’t an accident. Ryker don’t give up, and neither do I.”
He blows out a heavy breath. “So, what happens now?”
“We wait.” The answer doesn’t sit well—with either of us—but there ain’t much else we can do. “Tank and Graham are takin’ turns sittin’ on Broadcast in case Diego comes back. Ry has a contact at the M.E.’s office, but they still need to complete the autopsy.”
Nash flinches. Shit. He might not have known Duncan well, but the man was the last connection to his family.
“We’ll know more this afternoon, darlin’. Until then…”
A hint of a spark flashes in his eyes. “Again? I’m game if you are, but, we’re going to need to hydrate first.”
We both laugh. I’m about to reach for him when Kiki bounds into the kitchen and leaps onto the counter. With laser focus, he starts cleaning the last bits of egg and cheese off one of the plates.
