She nodded her head toward the house. “Come inside.”
Nancy turned to open the door. She kicked off her wet shoes and looked down at the damp jeans clinging to her kneecaps and her injured hand. The bleeding on her hand had stopped, but the pricks would be sore as hell tomorrow if they didn’t get cleaned out.
“I’ll be right back.” She moved quickly up the steps to her bathroom without waiting for a response from Paul.
She shut the door behind her and leaned against it. Slowly her mind began putting together the pieces of the time she and Paul spent together. From the day he whisked her off to pick up Maddie and Charlie at school, to the night she showed up at his house to get the heaters.
What if everything he did, all the contradictions were because of him, not her?
Paul didn’t just think he wasn’t enough for her sexually. Paul didn’t think he was enough for her at all.
She used her elbow to flip the handle on the faucet and began scrubbing her hands as quickly as she could, knowing there was a chance, a substantial one, that when she made it back downstairs, Paul would be gone.
Her heart pounded as she darted into her room and grabbed the first pair of pants she saw, a black pair of joggers she lounged around the house in. She tried to step into them as she walked and almost fell, catching herself on the nightstand before she toppled over.
Nancy blew the hair out of her face and stood still just long enough to get the pants most of the way up. She situated them at her waist as she went quickly back down the stairs, holding her breath a little as the living room came into view.
Paul was still by the front door, his hands in his pockets, staring at the ground, seemingly unaware she was back.
“You could have sat down.”
He looked her way and for the first time she noticed the bags under his eyes. The dullness of his skin under a week’s worth of stubble. The dryness of his lips.
“What’s going on Paul?”
He rubbed his hand over his jaw. The sound of his calloused fingers on his scruff was like sandpaper. “I needed to talk to you.”
“Are you impotent?”
Paul started coughing. She waited, resisting the urge to say more. He was the one who came here and he was the one who dropped that bomb a few minutes ago. He would be the one to explain.
His cough turned into a nervous laugh. He took a deep breath and scratched at the back of his neck. Finally, he looked at her, then the ceiling. “Yeah.”
She nodded and crossed her arms over her chest. “Do you think that is something I would not be accepting of?”
“It’s not fair of me to ask you to be accepting of that.”
“Oh.” She stood quietly for a minute as things Paul told her flooded her mind. “You’ve said a lot about what you think is fair to me, what I need, and I’m a little upset that you think you get to decide what I do and don’t need. I think maybe it’s all an excuse.” She dropped her arms and took another step toward him. “Why don’t you want to be with me, really?”
“I do want to be with you.”
She cocked an eyebrow at him. “Well I hate to tell you this, but if that’s the case you’ve been going about this all wrong.”
TWENTY
Paul lingered by the front door. Stuck in the limbo between the lies he’d built up so carefully and the truth still hanging in the air between them.
Why was everything so damn hard? Hard to admit the truth he’d been avoiding for nearly thirty years. Hard to ignore the lies he’d told himself so long they were more like the truth. Hard to talk to her.
Harder not to.
He spent the drive here thinking about what needed to be said between them but now that she was in front of him it was like his tongue was glued to the top of his mouth.
To be fair, they were discussing his issues with erectile dysfunction which would trip up the best of men, but right now tripped up wasn’t something he could afford to be.
This was his Hail Mary. His last shot at the one thing he’d wanted his whole adult life and he was handling the pressure worse than a freshman quarterback.
This was supposed to be where he convinced her to forgive him. To be his, but instead the same old shit was coming out of his mouth. The same old excuses he’d fallen back on for years.
He did want to be with Nancy. More than he’d ever wanted anything. But as much as he wanted it, the idea filled him with an equal amount of terror.
“Relax.” Nancy reached out and rested her hands on his arms. Her blue eyes were warm as she looked at him. Not with the pity or disappointment he expected, but something else.
“Just talk to me.” She smiled softly. His eyes caught on her lips. Lips that he wanted to kiss every morning and every night. And he could. If he had enough balls to lay it on the line.
Every single bit of it.
“Nan, I love you. I always have.” His stomach dropped as he heard the words come out of his mouth. Words that had to be said, but words Paul never thought he would be able to say. Not now. Maybe not ever.
He struggled to breathe as those damned words hung in the air, the weight of all they carried crushing the air from his lungs. His whole life came to a point before his eyes. There would always be two sides. Before and after. The next few seconds would determine which side was the happy one.
“I’m just so confused.” Nancy dropped her hands to her sides.
Paul swallowed hard as he tried to not be distracted by how much he missed the feel of her hands on his arms. “I understand. I’ve made this difficult and you need some time to sort out how you feel about me.” He took a step back, giving her some space. “If you feel about me at all.”
She laughed and shook her head making her pale blonde hair fall into her face. “That’s not what I meant.” She stepped forward, taking away the space he gave her. “I just don’t know where we go from here.” She looked up at him, her blue eyes searching his face before dropping.
She stood quietly for a minute chewing her lip, her face serious. Her eyes finally came back to his. “You know your…” Her eyes dropped to the front of his pants then came back. “You know that doesn’t matter to me, right?”
She made it sound so simple. As if it was no big deal, this problem he had.
“It might matter eventually.” He avoided her eyes. He hadn’t even told his doctor and he sure as hell never wanted to have a conversation like this with Nancy. It was more than uncomfortable, worse than just embarrassing. He was telling the woman he loved, the woman he was asking to love him, that he wasn’t really a man. Not a complete one.
And then asking her to love him anyway.
She tipped her head to one side. “No. It won’t.” She studied him. “Would it matter to you if I couldn’t and you could?”
“No.” The word came out louder and more forceful than he expected making Nancy jump ever so slightly.
The idea that he would care about what she could and couldn’t do for him sexually was so offensive that it was a knee-jerk reaction.
She smiled. “That’s how I feel about it. It hurts my feelings a little that you would think something as small as that--” Her eyes flew open. “That came out wrong.”
Paul laughed out loud. He grabbed Nancy and wrapped her in his arms as she continued trying to explain what she meant to say.
“I didn’t mean it was small. I meant the issue was small.”
He hugged her tighter, enjoying the feel of her against him without any fear or panic lingering in the back of his mind, a smile still on his face. “I love you.”
This time the words came easy. It was about time something did.
Nancy’s head was buried in his shoulder. “It’s a good thing.”
He pulled back, looking at her face, still a little flushed from embarrassment. “It’s a very good thing.”
She squinted at him. “In that case, can I ask why you look like shit?”
“I had a little bit of a rough night.” His head started to ache a
t the memory of the hangover four Motrin were barely keeping at bay.
“Last night?”
He rocked his head from side to side. “Maybe the last few nights.”
Nancy cocked an eyebrow at him. “You need to learn to cope with things better.”
Paul leaned down and brushed his lips across hers for the first time in days. It was longer than he ever wanted to go without kissing her again. “I’m working on it.”
She laughed. “Fair enough.” She wrapped her arms around his neck, and leaned in to kiss him back. It made him think maybe she missed him as much as he missed her.
Her lips lingered against his as her fingers trailed across the thick stubble covering his jaw. Her touch was so soft, so gentle he could feel the tension easing free of his tightly strung limbs.
By the time she pulled away, he felt like putty. All the fear, the frustration, the anger, gone.
And then she unknowingly brought it all back.
“Tell me about your night.” She smiled up at him, clueless.
“You don’t happen to have any coffee made do you?”
She raised her eyebrows. “That bad?”
He nodded. “Pretty bad.”
She grabbed his hand and pulled him gently in the direction of the kitchen. “Hungry?”
Paul grabbed his stomach as it started to roll at the thought of food. He never thought he would turn down a meal that came from her kitchen, but he was wrong.
“You should eat some toast too or coffee will tear the lining of your stomach up even more.” Nancy pushed gently on his shoulders, easing him into a chair at the kitchen table.
He closed his eyes and listened to her soft humming as she quietly moved around the kitchen. The smell of fresh coffee and browning bread filled the room around him.
This was what he thought of when he imagined a life with Nancy. Nothing fancy. Nothing out of the ordinary.
That was what he wanted. An ordinary life, drinking coffee and eating toast with her across the table from him.
“Hey.”
He opened his eyes to Nancy’s hand on his shoulder. She nodded to the table. “Why don’t you try to eat before you fall asleep?”
Paul picked up the heavy mug she’d placed in front of him and sipped at the smooth cup of coffee. “I was just relaxing for a second.”
She snorted as she pulled out the chair beside him and sat down. “You were snoring.” Her eyes stayed fixed on him as he slowly bit off a chunk of toast. “You did have a rough night.
He swallowed down the slightly buttery wad of chewed bread. It hung in his throat as the memory of Sam’s face lingered in his mind. It was crazy to even consider that last night was anything more than the delusions of a whiskey laced mind, giving him a place to direct the rage he’d held onto all these years.
But could whiskey dream up the Sam stamped in his memory? Because the face haunting him now, wasn’t that of the young man who died in a fiery car crash leaving behind a wife, a clandestine lover and two boys.
It was of an aged man.
And until he had a better grasp on last night’s evens, it wasn’t something he wanted to share with Nancy. If she was his, and he hoped more than anything she was, it was his job to protect her, not upset her for what was certainly no reason.
Nancy’s brow furrowed. “What happened to your hand?”
****
Paul looked a little like a deer caught in the headlights, his glassy, wide-eyed stare moving from his hand to her face, then back to his black and blue fist. It took too long for him to find an answer so she decided to ask more questions. See if there was one that could get his brain moving.
“What did you punch?” Nancy took his hand in hers and gently stretched out his fingers to examine his purple, swollen knuckles. “And who ended up worse off?”
Paul picked up his coffee and took a drink. The man was stalling. The question was why. After so much blatant honesty involving some pretty touchy topics, it was a little surprising he would hold back now.
It was no secret in town that Paul had been in his fair share of bar brawls over the years but from what she’d heard his actions were always justified. Usually, it was over a man disrespecting a woman.
“Paul, we don’t live in a town that is good at keeping secrets. I know this isn’t the first time this has happened.” Her intent was to put him at ease, but her words only seemed to confuse him.
His forehead wrinkled, bringing his brows together. “The first time what has happened?”
“The fight.” She pointed to his obviously injured hand. “I know there have been other fights over the years.”
His slightly ashen color pinked up. Paul’s head dropped to his hand as his fingers massaged his temple. “Nan, I couldn’t handle the way men would talk about you and it did lead to some…” He cleared his throat. “Altercations.”
The way men talked about her? “What do you mean, about me?”
Paul’s head snapped up. “Oh. I thought that was--”
“That was why you fought. Me?” She’d felt so alone for years. Thinking no one was there for her.
She was wrong.
Someone was.
Nancy swallowed around the tightness in her throat. There had been too many tears in her life lately, she was done crying them, even if they were happy ones.
She stared down at their hands, stacked together. His hand felt warm and strong under hers. It was a hand that defended her honor even when it didn’t matter. Even when no one knew but him. “Paul, I...” She didn’t have the right words so she settled for, “You’re a good man.”
He looked at her as he took another bite of the toast she made him. “I think you would get some argument on that.” Paul washed down the mouthful he was still chewing with the last of the coffee in his cup and leaned away from the table.
“From the guy you punched last night?” Nancy imagined the look on the guys face when he realized Paul was coming for him. The man probably crapped his pants. “I would have been interested to see how that played out.”
Paul shifted in his seat, his eyes darting around the room, landing everywhere except on her face. Nancy raised an eyebrow. Something was up.
“Who did you hit?”
Paul scratched at the side of his head. “I’m not entirely sure.”
“Not entirely?”
He finally looked at her. “No.”
Nancy chuckled. “Maybe you gave the wall a hell of a wake-up call.”
Paul shrugged his shoulders. “That’s what it gets for talking about your ass.”
TWENTY-ONE
Autumn was giving Nancy a run for her money. The woman had some serious get up and go to her. Probably a necessity to keep up with the four boys running laps through the fenced yard with Kate and Liza trailing behind them.
“They are going to sleep good tonight.” Nancy watched the six kids as they laughed and rolled around on the mostly dry grass.
Autumn straightened from the shallow trench where she was carefully dropping peas exactly four inches apart, just like Nancy told her to. “I think I will too.”
“The first year is the hardest.” Nancy went back to gently covering the peas Autumn so carefully placed.
The women spent the past week digging up a garden plot in Autumn and Jerry’s backyard. The family lived in town in an old two-story that still had beautiful wood trim and even a couple stained glass windows. It made Nancy wish her house had just a little more character, but that wasn’t what her old farmhouse was built for. It was built for purpose, not beauty. A purpose it served quite well over the years.
Nancy was barely done covering half a row when a familiar voice hollered behind her. “Hey Nancy.”
Nancy waved at her longtime customer as the woman passed by, walking her tiny puffy dog. “Hi Betty. How’s it going?”
“I’m ready for some market shopping I can tell you that.” Betty waved again. “See you soon.”
Betty was the fifth person to interrupt their
work this afternoon. Living in the country her whole life meant people passing by and stopping to chat was a new sort of experience for her. It was something she never considered, since moving was never a thought that crossed her mind. At least not until she saw the beautiful home Paul lived in and the amazing kitchen he used to make cold sandwiches.
Nancy squatted back down to continue covering the peas. “Do you like living here, in town?”
Autumn was a full row ahead of Nancy at this point and still dropping shriveled hard peas into the chilly ground. “It’s really convenient. There are other kids around for the boys to play with.” She looked over at Nancy and gave her a grin. “It gives me a little break.”
“I can imagine. I only had to keep up with two and I was ready to lose my mind frequently.” Nancy stood up and scanned the bed. “How much do you guys like peas?”
Autumn glanced over her shoulder. “Is this going to be a lot?”
Autumn managed to drop three long rows before Nancy realized how far along she was. “It will be quite a bit.”
“Oh.” Autumn stood up, looking at the rows herself. “I guess we will learn to really like peas.”
“Well, you could can them or you can freeze them.” Nancy stretched her back, trying to relieve the tightness of working in the garden all week. Her body wasn’t quite back in the swing of things after the winter.
“Or, I would be happy to trade you if there is something I have you would want. I can always sell peas at the market.” Peas were one of the first crops to come in the spring and Nancy’s customers were always chomping at the bit for fresh produce after the long winter.
Autumn smiled, showing off her dimples. “You are the best, you know that?” She stepped over the planted rows and wrapped one arm around Nancy’s shoulders. “I really am a little jealous Mina and Beth get you as a mother-in-law.”
Nancy squeezed Autumn back. “Let’s call you an honorary then.”
“Mooooooommmmmm!” Autumn’s youngest son fell down on the grass holding his stomach.
Nancy started across the yard. There were no other kids around him and nothing to explain why he appeared to be in agonizing pain. His little face was crunched up and he was rolling from side to side, his arms wrapped around his belly.
Regret (Never Waste a Second Chance Book 2) Page 18