“Damn.”
Cory Weston had been Gray’s best friend since kindergarten, and he’d been going through a tough divorce that nobody in Wayward Harbor had seen coming. Rumor had it he’d cheated on Brooke, though Nick had never asked Gray to confirm or deny it.
“How’s he doing?” he asked as they walked out to the truck to get the dresser.
“Not great. Pretty wrecked, actually.”
“And Brooke?”
Gray sighed. “I don’t know. I’ve been giving her space, you know?”
It had to be messy for his brother, Nick thought. Gray and Brooke had dated for a long time in high school, but their relationship hadn’t survived Gray going off the rails after their dad died. Things had been rocky when she started dating his best friend, but after some time passed, Gray had chosen his friendship with Cory over nursing a grudge.
But, though he’d never say it aloud, Nick thought Gray had always stayed a little bit in love with his best friend’s wife.
“You guys need a driver?” Nick asked once the stuff he needed Gray for was done.
“We’re just going to hang at his place, but I appreciate the offer.”
Nick nodded, turning to pick up the curtain rod left to hang so his brother wouldn’t see the disappointment on his face. He had too much to get done here to justify spending the evening at the Keel, but it would have been a good excuse to see Lucy.
“Thanks for the help.”
“Anytime. Fair warning, tomorrow morning might be a little rough,” Gray said as he grabbed his bucket of tools from the corner.
Nick chuckled. “Take the time you need. Nobody wants you running a nail gun with a hangover.”
Once his brother was gone, Nick threw on some music and got to work putting the finishing touches on the room. He hung the curtains first, and then rummaged around for bedding. Some of it got moved to make room for Lucy’s clothes in the linen closet, but he’d let her move those to the dresser. He found some cozy flannel sheets and a warm quilt. Then he draped two fleece throws at the end of the bed so she’d be able to nest.
After moving the bags and boxes from the living room into a corner of the bedroom, he grabbed a knit blanket from her couch pile and draped it over the armchair they’d set in the corner next to the dresser.
Once that was done, he went to the kitchen and opened the box Gray had brought with him from the house, where it was delivered. By the time he’d unpacked the gift and set it up on her bedside table, he was starving.
Throwing some chicken breasts on the grill was easy enough, and Lucy could easily throw it on bread or a make a salad if she didn’t grab anything at work.
Eating alone didn’t feel great, though. He’d loved it for the few nights between Helen leaving and Lucy showing up. Supper with his brothers always meant talking about work, and sometimes he needed a break from the pressure. Especially if he was trying to enjoy a burger.
But he liked sharing meals with Lucy. They talked about anything and everythingbutwork. Books. Movies. Television shows. Music. Their favorite amusement park rides. Who got the most scars learning to ride a bicycle. Their conversations went off on random tangents, almost all of which ended with laughter.
Even turning the television on while he ate didn’t help. Scripted banter and laugh tracks couldn’t replace Lucy, so he ate quickly and cleaned up after himself. Then he worked on tearing apart the old back deck until he heard her car pull into the driveway.
He went through the back door seconds before Lucy walked through the front door, getting inside just in time to watch her face light up when she saw him.
“How’d it go?” he asked, as if the huge smile wasn’t answer enough.
“It was awesome. Mattie and Sasha are both very cool, and Billy—well, he wants me to come back, so I assume he liked me well enough.”
“No problems with the customers?” If somebody was going to do a deep dive on just why Iris was a sore subject in Wayward Harbor, it would probably be somebody who’d had too much to drink.
“Nope. I mean, I could tell they were giving me looks and talking about me sometimes, but trust me when I tell you that’s nothing compared to what it used to be.”
“Good. Did you eat? There’s extra grilled chicken in the fridge.”
“I did, but I’ll eat it for lunch tomorrow before I go in if you’re not planning to.”
“It’s all yours.”
Nick made himself wait while she took off her shoes and the coat she’d borrowed from Helen’s closet. And while she poured herself a glass of water and drained half of it.
