“Myneeds?” He scoffed. “No, it’s not like that. At all. Aubrey hates me. She barely spoke to me in the store.”
Tansy’s gaze thinned. “Why? None of what happened was your fault.”
His jaw tightened while silence spread like a stain. How he wished that were true. “She doesn’t see it that way.”
“She will, if you talk to her. So go. Blow off some steam. I mean, when’s the last time you actually enjoyed yourself with someone?”
He swallowed, then slid his gaze away. Fuck this whole conversational blazing of trails if it led themhere. “Um...” He played with his fork as if riveted by it.
Tansy’s eyes scanned back and forth, reading his silence. “My god. You can’t be serious. You haven’t been tending to yourself this whole time, have you?”
He flinched at the bluntly personal question. He absolutely had. He’d been fucking his own hand in the shower for six years, all the while knowing he was the kind of person who could only fall in love once. And who apparently couldn’t fall back out. Who would never see anything behind his closed eyelids but garnet hair and green eyes and the world’s lightest dusting of freckles strewn across seashell-pale skin.
When he didn’t answer, Tansy clucked her tongue. “Wow. No wonder you glare so much.”
Nick gripped the dining table’s edges, as if he could grabhold of her accusation and throttle it. “I don’tglareany more than Ibrood.”
“Right. My mistake. Look. Why don’t I make this easy?” She gathered the plates and took them to the kitchen. A moment later, she returned and set his truck keys on the table. “Go. Get Aubrey out of your system. Just don’t get her pregnant. And don’t let Paige find out. And clean yourself up, first. You have dirt on your face.”
She walked away. Moments later, the hiss of running water emanated from the kitchen. Dishes clanked. Tansy hummed some pop hit from the radio, a tune Nick recognized but couldn’t name.
He sat unmoving. What had just happened? It was so fucking surreal he couldn’t even swallow the saliva that pooled in his throat. But the longer he sat there, clutching the table, the louder his blood buzzed in longing.
Right now, Aubrey was hurt, and probably cold and alone in that massive old house. Unless Gallant had stuck around to help, but that wasn’t likely. Or, if hehadstayed, it was only because he’d managed to convince Aubrey to...
Heat rocketed through Nick’s chest. He didn’t allow himself to complete the thought, just snatched up his keys and went to his bedroom, where he threw on clean clothes and wiped down his face. Not that his appearance mattered. Aubrey would turn him away the moment he showed himself. But he needed to lay eyes on her, if only for a second. Make sure she was safe.
No reason to look like a vagrant while doing it.
At the front door, he paused. Tansy still hummed in the kitchen, lightly, as if someone had just brightened her day.
A minute later, he was gunning his truck out of the driveway.
6.
Gallant hated coming home. In the nine months since Lena had moved out, he hadn’t grown used to the silence that greeted him when he opened the front door, or the way his keys jangled into the bowl like the saddest welcome imaginable.
Tonight, he tried to avoid the stillness by going straight to the living room, where he flicked on the gas fireplace and poured himself a bourbon. Maybe he should just bite the bullet and get a dog, but that seemed extreme. He was rich. Successful. He shouldn’t have to resort to an animal for company.
He flopped onto the couch and punched the remote to bring his 150-inch flat-screen to life. A football game came on, which didn’t interest him much, considering he wasn’t the one playing. But if he closed his eyes, he could pretend the cheering crowd was here, filling the polished rooms with their excitement, and for a moment, he was in high school again. The life of the party. The football star, the prom king, all the clichéd honorifics other people only made fun of because they hadn’t gotten to enjoy those titles themselves.
Man, he missed those days. Tonight, they’d come to the forefront of his mind, thanks to Aubrey MacLean. Back in high school, she’d been pretty, but now? She was a knockout. Polishedand put together and clearly on the same page as him about what mattered in life.
Which was to say, leagues ahead of any woman in Henderson.
He swirled his glass. God, he needed to do something with all this keyed-up energy she’d left him with. He pulled out his phone, then thumbed through his contacts, filtered to show only the entries he’d starred.
Marissa? He sipped his bourbon. Nah. Last time, she’d cried afterward. Awkward.
Nicole? Nope. Married to one of the foremen at the mill. He’d indulged a couple times anyway but had no desire to push his luck.
Pauline. He considered, then grimaced and tossed the phone aside. Who was he kidding? He was done playing with these girls. Lately, all the meaningless sex had started to feel like just that. Meaningless. He needed a real woman. A powerhouse. Someone who was going places. Someone headed for New York, like him.
He sipped again and congratulated himself on doing so well with Aubrey today. Back in high school, he hadn’t yet learned the subtleties of salesmanship and had pushed his agenda way too hard. That she’d chosen Nick Thacker over himstillstuck in his craw.
But a career selling houses had taught him restraint. He now knew when to apply pressure and when to play it cool. How to read someone’s hesitations and secret desires. How to tell the difference between someone who wanted to be convinced and someone who actually needed convincing, because they weren’t at all the same thing.
And Aubrey was the type who needed convincing. She always had been. He just hadn’t understood that distinction at eighteen.
