Falling For Nick

by Joleen James

  Any sympathy she felt for Nick dissolved in a poof, anger taking its place. Without thinking, she slapped him.

  Nick's head jerked to the side. Their eyes locked together in battle.

  "Is that what this visit is about?" Her voice rose to meet her temper. Nothing had changed. Nick still had no interest in his son, but he had every interest in controlling her. Her first instincts had been right. Her guilt over the No Contact Order had turned her into a fool. She should have left him in the jail.

  "I guess I deserved that."

  "I've waited to do that for ten years." Her hand stung, but she didn't care. It felt good. "John isn't an inconvenience, or a mistake. He's a boy. He's your son whether you like it or not. If you don't want to be a part of his life, that's fine with me; in fact, it's what I want. Leave us alone. Get out of Port Bliss." She stepped forward and rammed her index finger into his chest. "Don't ever tell me who I can and can't marry. It's none of your business."

  His hand closed firmly around hers, holding her fingers prisoner against his chest. His heart beat under her palm.

  "It is my business when the guy is Boomer Bloomfield." Nick rubbed his chin with his free hand. "You're right. I've made a mess out of things. I never wanted it to be this way between us. I'm not saying things right." Confusion filled his eyes.

  Clea jerked her hand free, refusing to give him one ounce of compassion. "Well, it's too late. Things are messy between us, Nick."

  "Why'd you drop the No Contact Order, Clea? I can understand why you served me with the papers, but I can't understand why you dropped the charges."

  He watched her intently. Suddenly uncomfortable, she looked away from him. "It seemed like the right thing to do. I never wanted to do it in the first place, but you scared me. You've been away a long time. I didn't know what to think. My instincts tell me to protect John. I don't want to see him hurt."

  "I'd never hurt him," Nick said softly. "And I'm sorry I hurt you."

  For ten years she'd waited for his apology, but it didn't ease the ache in her heart the way she'd hoped. Old hurts throbbed within her and a single apology couldn't make them disappear. "Are you sorry, Nick?" She couldn't keep the bitterness from her voice.

  "You'll never know how much."

  Clea looked into his eyes, eyes filled with pain. In all the years they'd been apart she'd never imagined that he regretted his words to her in the jail ten years ago. Did he?

  "Don't marry him, Clea." He reached for her hand.

  Clea stepped back, avoiding his touch. "Of course I'm going to marry Robert. What is it with you, Nick? You don't want us, but you don't want Robert to have us either? You just can't stand to see me happy."

  "That's not true," he said quietly. "I've seen you happy, remember?"

  Clea flashed back to the year she'd spent with him. She'd been blissfully happy and so in love. "Stop it. I won't let you do it to me again."

  "Do what?"

  "I don't want to remember. I can't." She wanted to run from him, but her feet wouldn't budge. He had some kind of hold over her she couldn't break. A part of her wanted to give in to him, to his smooth words, but she knew better. She needed to remember the lies he'd told her before. The memory of those lies helped her to break free. "Please go."

  "I don't want to fight with you. That's the last thing I want to do," he said sincerely. "I'll leave, but before I go tell me about my son."

  Her emotions warred. She wanted to tell him everything, every precious detail he'd missed, every detail she'd longed to share with her child's father. She wanted to tell him to go to hell. He didn't deserve any answers.

  "What's he like?" Nick asked. "I'm just asking. Give me something I can hold onto, Princess."

  The anguish in his voice tore at her, broke down her shell of defense. If only for this moment, she wanted him to understand what he'd missed. "He's wonderful," she said. "He's a nice boy. He's always made good grades, until this last report card. Recently, something's changed in him. He's angry and sad, and I don't know how to help him. Robert seems to be the only one he'll respond to anymore."

  His jaw tightened. "Son of a bitch. Is there any way that John could have learned about my release?"

  "I didn't tell him," Clea said. She suspected John was upset about the move to New York, but she didn't want to tell Nick about the upcoming move, not yet. "I suppose he could have found out, but I'm sure he would have come to me with questions."

  "I hope you're right."

  Was it her imagination; or was his voice a little hoarse with emotion? "Do you want visitation rights?" She paused, unsure of what she wanted his answer to be.

  "Would you give them to me if I asked?"

  "No. I don't know." She pressed her fingers to her temples. Robert would kill her if she allowed Nick anywhere near John. "I'm not sure what to tell John now. If you're here to stay, I have to tell him something."

  Nick walked to the top of the stairs and stared down at the street below. "I know you don't think I have any right to John, and maybe I don't. God knows I don't know anything about being a father, but I don't want John to think that I didn't want him. I did want him Clea, and I still do."

  Clea's thoughts spun at the implication of his words. "It's not that simple. You can't just change your mind. He doesn't know you. He thinks of Robert as his father. They love each other."

  "Boomer is not John's father." Nick whirled to face her. "Boomer didn't make love to you that night. I did."

  Clea wanted to close her eyes against the memory of Nick touching her, kissing her. Ten years later she could still remember the way he tasted, the way his skin felt under her fingers. She forced the images from her mind and met his stare head on, but the hunger she saw in his eyes made her turn away. "Are you staying in Port Bliss?" she asked.

  "Yes. I took my old job back at the garage."

  Clea exhaled, not realizing she'd been holding her breath. "If you want to get to know John, it has to be on my terms. I'm warning you, it's not going to be easy. John's already going through a lot of changes."

  "Life is never easy."

  She faced him again. "I suppose not."

  A long moment of silence passed between them and Clea used the time to study Nick. Hair as black as a raven's wing brushed the collar of his winter jacket, not his leather jacket, but a forest green Eddie Bauer type coat, a more grown-up type jacket. She could still remember what the silken strands of his hair felt like in her hands. His blue eyes appeared dark, masking his thoughts from her. Unable to help herself, she observed his mouth. His lips were strong, not too full, with a masculine curve to his upper lip.

  Clea leaned toward him, wanting his kiss, but caught herself, her insides clenching to an almost physical ache. She'd never been as attracted to anyone. There was something about him that turned up the heat on every emotion she possessed, be it anger or desire or fear. Could she share her child with him while keeping her own conflicting emotions under control? He didn't play by the rules; he never had. Would he now? Could she trust him with John's tender heart? The thought terrified her more than anything ever had. This wasn't just about her and Nick. John's feelings had to come first.

  "It's cold," she said, breaking the silence. "I'm going inside. I need time to think. John has school tomorrow. I'll tell him about you when he gets home."

  He took a step toward her. The clean scent of his soap teased her nose. She tried to back away, but came up against the doorjamb.

  "Remember, Clea," he whispered, his breath warm on her forehead. "Remember that summer. I know it didn't end the way either of us wanted it to. I was too young and stupid to know what really mattered. I'm older now, and for the first time in a long time I know what I want. This time, I'm going to fight for John, and for you. I want both of you."

  Clea's heart raced. Her thoughts scattered. Nick turned away and started down the stairs. Clea fumbled for the knob, pushing the door open. Once inside she leaned her back against the wood. Nick Lombard was dangerous. He wasn't the kind
of man a woman married. He didn't have a penny to his name. He had a criminal record. He could offer her nothing but a physical attraction that left her reeling. She couldn't allow Nick to sway her from the course she'd set for her life. She'd trusted him once with disastrous results.

  Robert was the best choice for her, the only choice. Her career, her future, awaited her in New York. She wouldn't give up her dreams for Nick, not this time. It was up to her to make sure Nick understood that. She didn't want him to fight for them. It was too late.

  * * *

  Nick let himself into his apartment and walked straight to the fridge. Reaching inside, he extracted a beer, twisted the cap off, and took a long swig.

  He'd gone to Clea's place ready to tell her every reason she shouldn't marry Boomer, and instead had wound up remembering every reason he wanted her himself. Tonight he'd been honest with her. If only he'd been as honest ten years ago things might be different now.

  He took another swallow of his beer.

  He'd committed to Clea and his son. The thought scared the hell out of him. He didn't know the first thing about commitment, and he knew even less about children. Yet, he'd never been one to back away from a challenge. Winning Clea back would be the biggest challenge he'd ever faced. She didn't trust him, and with good reason. He'd lied to her ten years ago. He could offer her nothing - yet. He'd been in prison for manslaughter. She was engaged to a man who could offer her everything, a man the world thought was "respectable."

  The thought burned a hole in his gut.

  If he wanted to stop the wedding he needed to set his own plans into motion. Tomorrow morning he'd start his job. He'd work hard, because he had something to work hard for. The time had come for him to provide for his family, and he wanted to rise to the challenge. He wanted to be someone Clea could depend on. If he could win her trust, the rest would follow.

  It wouldn't be easy.

  But the reward would be his family.

  Chapter Four

  "There's someone here to see you, Nick," Mr. Mullin said.

  "Yeah, who?" Nick asked. From his position under the '56 Chevy all he could see of his boss were his greasy boots. Right now he didn't need the interruption. He'd just cleaned and installed a new fuel tank, and wasn't quite finished with the job. He didn't want to come out from under the old beauty unless he had a good reason.

  "It's me, Nick." Clea's voice crawled under the car with him and he forgot all about the '56. "I need to speak with you, if you have a minute."

  He turned his head to the left. It was her all right. The expensive black boots and jeans were a dead giveaway. Somehow she managed to stay true to herself, to the simple style of clothing he knew she liked, even with a mother like Vivian Rose.

  Using his hands, he wheeled himself out from under the car. Grease covered him from his head to his boots, and he wished she'd given him some warning that she might come by. He didn't want her to think less of him because he got his hands dirty to make a living. Not everyone could be a senator's son. His mother always said it took all kinds of people to make a world, and for once he agreed with her.

  Clea stood to the side of the car, staring down at him. She'd pulled her honey-colored hair back in a ponytail. Straight hair, not the curly hair she'd had in high school. The look made her appear more serious and in control of her life, but was she? What would it take to make her control slip? The black turtleneck she wore clung to her curves and looked sexy as hell tucked into her tight jeans. Still flat on his back, he wanted nothing more than to pull her down on top of him, grease and all.

  "I'm sorry to bother you at work," she said, her brow wrinkling as if she searched for the right words to say.

  "It's okay." He sat up. Glancing at his boss, he asked, "Okay if I knock off for ten?"

  "Yeah, sure," Mr. Mullin said, with a knowing shake of his head. Nick swore he saw the old man smile as he went back into his office.

  Nick came to his feet. He nodded toward the utility sink. "I'm going to wash some of this grease off. Don't go anywhere."

  He kept one eye on her as he used the sink, scrubbing most of the grease away. As he dried his hands, Clea paced. She was nervous about something, and that made him nervous. Had she told John about him? Judging from her body language, she didn't have good news to share. He tried not to let disappointment seduce him. "Let's go outside," he said when he joined her. "I could use a little fresh air after being under a car all morning."

  "All right."

  He opened the door for her and she walked through. The scent of watermelon teased his nose as she passed him, the fragrance transporting him back to the year they'd been together. She'd always worn those shiny, flavored lip-glosses in the brightly colored tubes. Did she still?

  In front of the garage sat an old park bench where some of the guys took a smoke on their breaks. "Do you want to sit?"

  She sank onto the bench, a sigh leaving her lips.

  "Whatever it is, it can't be that bad," he said.

  "What?" she asked as if she hadn't heard him.

  "Something's bothering you. What?"

  "You were telling me the truth about working at Mullin's," she said.

  "Yes. I started this morning. I meant everything I said last night."

  She looked everywhere but at him. Across the street the bell tinkled on the kite shop door. Elizabeth Spencer drove by in her old Lincoln Continental.

  "Did you come here to check up on me, or is this visit about John?" he asked. "Did you tell him about me?" Cold dread swirled in his gut. He could take just about anything, but now that he'd made the decision to stay in Port Bliss he didn't want to lose the chance to know his son.

  "No. I haven't told him yet." She took a deep breath. "It's about what you said last night, about wanting to fight for me."

  He grinned with relief. She wouldn't be here, worried, if she felt nothing for him. His determination to win her back doubled. "I haven't changed my mind."

  "You can't be serious." She pressed her fingers to her temples. "I'm engaged."

  "But you're not married yet." He reached over and took her hand in his. She pulled away. "Give me a chance, Princess, the chance I never got ten years ago."

  She came to her feet. "No. I can't do that again, not with you."

  "Why not?" He stood. She glanced away from him toward the street. "Look at me, Clea."

  "No."

  That one word told him what he needed to know. Her feelings for Boomer weren't solid, and that gave Nick the opening he needed. "He's not the right man for you." He longed to tell her about the Boomer he knew, the Boomer with a mean streak and a ruthless nature, but he knew Clea wasn't ready to hear the truth. "Boomer will stifle you. He'll try to turn you into someone you're not. I'd never do that."

  That brought her focus to him, her eyes flashing with anger. "Do you really think you're the right man for me, Nick? We don't have anything in common except a physical attraction that produced John. Well, I'm stronger now, and wiser. I'm not the same girl you knew before."

  "Oh, I have a pretty good idea what you're like."

  Her hand balled into a fist and he thought she might slap him again, but she didn't. He wished he could take his words back, crass words she didn't deserve, but the apology lodged in his throat.

  "It's taken me a long time to find the right man," she said, the words brittle and sharp. "You have to respect my commitment to him."

  She asked the impossible. He could never accept Boomer Bloomfield, but he knew he would never earn Clea's respect by belittling Boomer.

  "I'm sorry I left," he said, "but it couldn't be helped. I didn't want to go to prison." He reached for her, his fingers curling around hers. "I'm sorry I wasn't there for you when John was born. You'll never know how much I regret that. But I'm here now. I'm not eighteen anymore."

  She raised her chin a little higher and pulled her hand free. "Let me go, Nick." Her eyes and words filled with a plea that hurt his heart. "Don't make it hard for me."

  "If
it's hard for you, then maybe you're marrying the wrong man."

  She shook her head.

  "I've been wondering something since I came back," he said. "Why is it that you haven't married Boomer before now? If you love him so much, if he's the man for you, then why the ten-year wait?"

  Clea turned away and he knew he'd struck a nerve. "The timing just wasn't right. We were both in college. Robert went back east."

  It was a lame excuse and they both knew it. "Give me a chance, Clea." He put every ounce of what he felt for her in those words, walking around her to see her face. Something flared in her eyes. Anger? Passion? He didn't know, but he wanted to find out. He closed the distance between them; and reached out to touch her cheek. Her skin felt like the softest rose petal under his work-roughened fingers. While in prison he'd felt starved for human contact. Touching Clea made every nerve ending in his body came alive. The urge to pull her to him and kiss her until neither one of them could think drove him. He brought his other hand up to cradle her face in his hands.

  "I want you to remember how it was between us ten years ago," he said, the words low and for her ears alone. Her eyes darkened to a smoky green, and the lust in his gut tightened. "Remember the fire between us, the almost desperate hunger we felt for each other? Those feeling aren't dead, Princess. Like me, they've just been locked up. It's time to set them free."

  "Ten years ago you lied to me," she said, her voice small.

  "I know. I'm sorry." He rubbed his thumb against her jaw and she sucked in a breath.

  "I can't do this again, Nick," she whispered without taking her eyes from his. She knocked his hands away and stepped back. "I knew this would happen. That's why I came here. Too warn you off, to make sure you understood I'm not interested."

  He grinned. "Oh, you're interested, all right. What you're feeling is desire, baby. And between us we have enough to set this town on fire."

  Clea covered her mouth with her hands. A strangled sound came from her. "I've won a photography internship in New York. The Graceland Mitchell Internship. I'll be working with Graceland Mitchell herself. Her work is phenomenal. It's the chance of a lifetime for me. I'm moving next month, Nick."