by Joleen James
She had no idea how to make things better between them before she left for New York. Her things were packed, her tickets purchased. She should be happy, but inside she mourned for Nick. She didn't want to leave him behind, but he hadn't asked her to stay.
She looked over at Robert. He sat a few rows ahead of them, his head bowed, his expression hidden. He'd been arrested after his confession. Free on bail, he faced charges of concealing evidence, but because the crime was committed when he was a juvenile it seemed doubtful he'd serve any jail time.
To Robert's left sat his mother. A black veil covered Ellen Bloomfield's face, hiding her grief from the small group gathered here. Shamed by her husband's infidelity and her son's part in Danny's death, she'd kept the service small and private. She hadn't spoken to Nick, but she hadn't stopped him from attending the funeral. Maybe Ellen realized they'd all lost too much already.
Clea tried to focus on the eulogy, but her mind kept straying to Nick and Robert and Billy. She had no illusions that Nick and Robert would ever be friends, but she hoped they wouldn't remain enemies. Billy had his own demons to face. He'd gone in for questioning, but no formal charges had been filed. She knew Nick worried about his brother, but the time had come for Billy to figure things out on his own. It was the only way he'd ever be free of his haunting past.
The service concluded and everyone stood. Immediately Robert and his mother were whisked away by a waiting limousine. Clea stood and took John's hand.
"Are you ready to go?" she asked Nick.
"In a minute," he said, his voice hoarse with emotion. "You two go on."
Clea didn't want to leave him, but she smiled at John and they walked to the car. When they reached the car, they waited outside in the sunshine for Nick. He left the senator's grave and walked a few yards away to where Maude was buried. He stayed at Maude's grave so long Clea began to worry.
"When's he going to come?" John asked.
"I don't know. I think he's saying good-bye to his mother," Clea said, her heart aching for Nick. "I'm sure he just needs a few more minutes."
John continued to study his father, and Clea couldn't begin to imagine what her son was thinking. Could he even wrap his mind around the fact that Senator Bloomfield had been Nick's father? She'd explained Danny's death to him, telling him about Billy and Robert's parts in that night. John understood that Nick hadn't killed Danny, that he'd gone to prison to protect his brother. She'd expected him to be angry with Robert, but instead John had withdrawn into himself, increasing her worry over taking him to New York.
John pushed away from her, walking toward Nick. Clea started to call for him to come back, but decided against it.
When John reached his father's side, Nick turned and looked down at his son. John said something, but Clea couldn't hear him. Then the boy reached for Nick's hand. They stood together, holding hands, John and Nick, father and son. Clea's eyes filled with tears.
Maybe they needed each other more than they let on. How could she take John away from his father? Did she even want to make the move permanent, or did she want to come back to Port Bliss after the internship ended?
She'd waited for Nick to ask her to stay. Maybe she'd waited too long. If she wanted Nick she had to fight for him this time. And she intended to do just that.
Chapter Nineteen
Nick pulled into the parking lot at the Tacoma Dome and turned off the Mustang's engine. He glanced over at John. The boy had been silent during the ride to Tacoma. So much had happened the past week. He had no idea how to talk to John about the senator's death or about his own plans for the future. How much could the kid really understand? Time was running out.
Nick glanced at the rearview mirror, watching Billy as he pulled into the parking lot.
"This is it," Nick said, his tone light. "Our last ride in The Boss."
"Do you really have to sell the car?" John asked. He fiddled with his seatbelt buckle.
"I want to sell the car," Nick told him. "The money I get from The Boss will be my down payment on the garage. I'll have my own business. I'll be able to take care of you and your mom."
"How can you? We'll be in New York. You can't take care of us there."
"I wanted to talk to you about that."
John cocked his head to the side. "What about it?"
"I have some ideas I want to run past you." He took a breath, praying John wouldn't shoot his plans down.
"What kind of ideas?" John shifted on the seat to better view Nick.
"I love you, John. And I love your mother. I want to marry Clea, but I wanted to ask your permission first. It's important to me that you approve." He paused, his heart beating so hard he thought it might come right out of his chest.
John didn't reply. He glanced away, out the window.
Nick's heart sank.
"How can you marry us if you live in Port Bliss?" John asked, his voice small.
"I've got a couple of different plans in place, but I need to talk to your mom about them first. You have to trust me. We will all be together. I promise," Nick said. "Do I have your permission to ask her to marry me?"
"I guess."
Nick could see the hope in his son's eyes. For the first time since he'd come home, Nick could feel a bond between them, a small bond, but one he felt certain he could build on.
Nick gave John a smile of encouragement. "Everything is going to be all right, John."
John's teeth sunk into his lower lip. "Things will never be the same. Robert's in trouble. Billy's in trouble. Senator Bloomfield is dead."
"Robert and Billy will be fine," Nick said. "I know you're sad about the senator. I'm sad too, and that's okay, but we have to move forward. We have so many years to make up. I want to spend the rest of my life making you and your mother happy. It's all I've ever wanted."
John nodded. Nick reached over and squeezed his son's hand. John didn't pull away. For one sweet moment he felt a connection to John, the kind of connection he'd always wanted to have with his son.
The sound of an approaching car pulled their attention away from each other. Billy drove up beside them, rolling his window down. Nick opened his window.
"He's not here yet?" Billy asked, referring to the buyer.
"No," Nick said. "Park your car. We're going to go on one last ride before he gets here." Nick turned to John. "What do you say, John? Let's take one last wild ride."
* * *
Clea ran the packing tape across the top of the box. She took a look around the apartment. Tears pricked her eyes. All her things were boxed up and ready to be moved into storage. Everything was happening too fast. She couldn't get her breath, didn't know what to do. Yesterday, Mitzi told Clea that she'd rented the apartment. It was what Clea had wanted, but it made the move seem final. Her home here would belong to someone else. She kept telling herself she would still have her half ownership of The Coffee House. She could come back to Port Bliss whenever she wanted. Focusing on her dream should be a priority, but Clea knew in her heart her dream was no longer her photography.
Nick's return had changed everything. Making love with him had changed her. She didn't want to live without him, or raise John without him. She loved him too much.
Port Bliss was her home. Her mother was here. Her son's friends were here. Nick was here. More than anything she wanted to stay, to be a family. But if Nick didn't ask her to stay, if he didn't want to be with her and John, did she want to come back? It was so confusing. She couldn't leave town with things unfinished between them. Nick had called her a coward once, and maybe she had been, but not any longer. Somehow, she'd fallen for Nick all over again, and this time she intended to hang onto him with both hands.
The sound of a car pulling up out front brought her to the window. She watched as John and Nick got out of Billy's car. When they were clear, Billy drove off. Nick had asked to spend some time with John today. While she thought it was a good idea, she'd been surprised when John had agreed. Something had happened between the two of the
m at the funeral. They'd made a connection in spite of the sorrow and anger they both felt.
Clea turned as they came into the apartment. "Hi," she said, smiling. Just seeing Nick in her apartment made her feel better, lighter. She'd missed him this week.
"Hi," Nick said softly and there was something in his tone that told her they'd be okay.
"Mom, is it okay if I go over to Toby's now?" John asked, running by her and into his room.
"Yes." She had a million questions for Nick, but first she had to deal with John. She followed John to his room, surprised that he didn't seem upset like she'd feared. "Toby called when you were out. I think he has a surprise for you."
"I'll walk him over," Nick said, joining them, "then I'll be back."
John flew out of his room, his backpack slung over his arm.
"What do you have there?" Clea asked.
"Stuff I want to show Toby," John answered on his way to the door.
"Did you remember the card?" Clea asked. She'd gotten Toby a phone card so he could call John whenever he wanted to.
John gave her an exasperated smile. "Yes, it's inside."
"All right then." She went to the door. "Call me when you are ready to be picked up."
"I will." John exchanged a glance with Nick, a glance that said they had a secret. She wanted to question them both, but instead she let John go.
The door closed behind them. She could hear John's chatter as he walked down the stairs. In a minute, Nick would return. It was their last chance to talk, to be together for a long time. Tears filled Clea's eyes and she bit down on her lip to stop the flow. What if Nick didn't say the words she wanted to hear? No, she refused to think negatively. If Nick turned her down this time, it wouldn't be for lack of trying on her part. From the beginning they were destined to be together. Fate wouldn't be so cruel as to pull them apart again.
* * *
Nick paused outside of Clea's apartment door. Inside she waited for him. They had a lot to discuss and not much time to do it. He wasn't a praying man, but right now he prayed for things to work out between them. He knew she thought he'd withdrawn from her, but he hadn't. He'd needed every minute of the past few days to set his plans into motion. The senator's death had slowed things a little and sent him into a tailspin of self-doubt. The funeral had been tough, but after the service concluded he'd known it wasn't just his father he had to make peace with. He'd gone over to Maude's grave and made peace with his mother. An incredible sorrow had filled him, making him question every choice he'd ever made, then John had joined him, taking Nick's hand, telling him it was okay to be sad. John's words and caring touch had pulled Nick out of his funk, and made him more determined than ever to get his family back.
Nick took a deep breath, then turned the knob, letting himself into the apartment. Clea stood at the window, her back to him. Was she upset? Could he blame her if she was? He went to her, his hands spanning her waist. She didn't flinch, didn't push him away as he'd feared she might. Instead she relaxed against him. Her surrender sent a shot of pleasure through him. They hadn't been alone since the night they'd made love. There was still so much unsaid between them, but he vowed to say everything tonight.
"Are you all right?" he asked. Her summer scent filled him and he kissed the smooth skin of her neck. For the first time he felt truly free to kiss her, to love her the way he wanted to. There were no more secrets left between them.
"I should be asking you that," she replied a catch in her voice.
"I'm going to be fine, Princess. In fact, I'm going to be better than fine."
She turned in the circle of his arms.
He wanted to kiss her fears away. His mouth lowered to hers.
"Wait." Her hands landed on his chest.
"I don't want to wait anymore," he said. "I need you. I want you. I love you."
He expected desire to fill her eyes, but instead he saw a resolve there.
"No," she said, putting some distance between them. "I can't. I need to know where we stand."
"All right." He understood her need for answers. "We're standing in my new apartment."
"What?" Her brows drew together in confusion.
"The lease was up at Maude's. I knew this place was up for rent. I went to Mitzi and rented it." He waited for her reaction.
"You can't be serious?" she said incredulously.
"Why not?"
"I don't know." She spun away from him, but he could hear the confusion in her tone, see it in her body language.
This wasn't the reaction he'd expected. He was going about things all wrong. She was pulling away from him and that was the last thing he wanted. "I wanted to leave the door open."
"For what?" she asked in a small voice.
"For you and John."
"Are you saying you want us to stay?"
"Hell, yes, I want you to stay," he answered, suddenly realizing that she hadn't understood his motives for taking the apartment, "but I'm not going to let you."
She turned to face him and he could see the angst in her eyes, the wanting. "What if I want to stay?"
He smiled. "No way." He cupped her face in his hands. "You have to go, at least for now. This is important. You have incredible talent. I didn't say anything sooner, but I've been working on things."
"What kinds of things?" she asked her tone hopeful now.
"I sold The Boss today." He kept the regret from his voice and looked straight into her eyes. The Boss had been a part of him for years, a part he didn't need anymore.
She started to speak, to protest, but he covered her lips with his fingers. "I wanted to, for us. Billy, John, and I drove to Tacoma today to deliver the Mustang to the new owner. I want to use the money as a down payment for Mullin's. Mr. Mullin has offered to sell the garage to me. Thanks to my website, I already have four vintage car restorations lined up. There's big money in this business. You won't lack for anything, Princess. I promise. I want to take Mullin's offer, but it depends on you."
"On me?"
"If you want me. If you want to make a life with me here."
She gave him the most brilliant smile he'd ever seen. A smile he felt all over his body.
"Of course I want you. I've always wanted you." She brought her hands up to grasp his forearms. "I love you, Nick Lombard. I always have."
Nick didn't give her a chance to reach for him. He claimed her mouth in a kiss of liquid fire. Every emotion he felt for her went into his kiss. He needed to show her how much he loved her. With a growl, he picked her up and bore her to the bedroom, but he didn't lay her down on the bed. Instead, he released her, letting her body slide down his until her feet hit the floor.
For one exquisite moment they stared into each other's eyes, the effect shattering.
Then Clea yanked his t-shirt from his jeans, bringing it up, over his head, tossing it to the floor where it landed with a whisper.
She went for his fly next, but Nick grabbed her hands. If she touched him, he'd go up in flames, and he wasn't ready to do that yet, not until she felt the same passion and desire he did. Grasping the hem of her sweater, he pulled it over her head. Her hair floated like a cloud around them and he couldn't get her jeans off fast enough. He yanked his own pants off with an urgency she couldn't mistake for anything other than what it was - pure lust.
Together they fell onto the bed. Clea's bra hit the floor. Her panties followed, the lace light and airy in his hands. The satin of her skin slid under his. And then he was inside her. A contented purr left her lips, and he kissed her, over and over, so deep and so consuming he couldn't think, only feel her around him, against him, until she climaxed, crying out. She tightened around him and he found his own release, the feeling so intense he thought he must have gone to heaven.
The sound of their ragged breathing filled the room. A sheen of moisture covered their bodies, so great was the heat between them.
Nick pulled back to stare down at her. "Damn." His mouth moved against hers. "Marry me. Today, tomorrow, when
ever you want. Just say you'll do it."
"I want to, but I have to talk to John first." Love sparkled in her eyes.
"I already have. I asked him today. He wasn't as excited as I wanted him to be, but he said it was okay if I asked you. I'm asking, Princess. Say yes."
"Yes."
He sealed the proposal with a kiss.
"I love you, Nick," she said.
"And I love you." He rolled to his side, taking her with him. "I'll be here for you in any way you want. I'll wait here, or I'll come with you to New York if that's what you want. My parole has been lifted. I'm free to come and go as I please. Or I can keep John with me, here in Port Bliss. I know my relationship with John is still new, but if he wants to stay, he's welcome. I'll take care of him for you while you do your internship. I love him as much as you do."
"I know you do." Clea stroked his jaw, her touch gentle and soft. "I want to live here, Nick. I want my son to still have his best friend. We can talk to John together, and ask him what he wants. I'll go to New York, but I'll come back to you. A part of me has never given up hope that we'd be together one day. You are my dream, Nick, for myself and for John. My photography takes second place next to the love I feel for you. Love is everything. Family is everything."
Family was everything. For the first time in his life he felt like he had it all. In Clea's arms he'd found the love of his life. He had a chance with his son. He had his family back.
And that made Nick smile.
Joleen James won the Golden Heart® Award in 2008 for her series contemporary book Under A Harvest Moon.
In August 2012, she became an Indie author with the launch of her short story Hostage Heart. Her contemporary romance novel Falling For Nick debuted in October 2012.