by RB Hilliard
Sensing her unease, Nash reached over and grabbed her hand. “We still think it was Nadine, but we can’t be sure until we find her. Remember Garrett and Cas, the guys from North Carolina who own the security firm, LASH? Maeve nodded yes. “We’ve hired them to find Nadine and her parents. You’re still being monitored here, so all is good, okay?” Maeve and I both stared at him. He looked back and forth between the two of us. “All is good, right?” Now was the perfect time for Maeve to tell him about his father’s surprise visit. Do it, I mentally begged.
“Other than being a prisoner in my own home, things are just spiffy.” Maeve’s snarky answer made Nash laugh. Not me. All I felt was disappointment. Nash’s eyes drifted to me, but I couldn’t give him mine in return. If I did, he would know something was up.
Conor, Gavin, my father, Maeve, and now Nate. When were secrets no longer secrets, but merely lies? I had a feeling we’d probably gone way past that point. Someone was bound to get hurt. I just prayed it wasn’t the three of us.
Chapter Eleven
Losing Control
Nash
I was finally home. Mom looked tired, Rowan looked amazing, and I’d never been so happy to sleep in my own bed in my entire life. With a happy sigh, I buried my head in my pillows, and inhaled deeply.
Blane completely wigged his shit when I told him about my plans to bail after last night’s show. Evidently, he had weekend plans already in place for Meltdown. Grant took Blane’s side. He’d been doing that a lot lately, and it was starting to piss me off. For all I cared, both of them could fuck off. My mother was dying. Nothing was more important than spending time with her. Not the band, not the music, and certainly not Blane’s stupid weekend plans. I got great satisfaction in telling them both to bite me. When Grant turned douchy about it, I told him to fire me. Then I laughed in his face. He couldn’t fire me, because I was his partner, as in fifty-fifty, equal shares…halfsies. So it looked as if I was going home, and Meltdown was doing promo shit without me.
A rustling noise outside my door interrupted my downward descent into nothingness, and I turned to see what had caused it.
Rowan, with her wild, curly hair, scrub pants, and tight tee that showed off her voluptuous tits, stood in my doorway with that look on her face, the one that spelled trouble. This woman called to me like no other. I told Grant and Blane this trip was for Mom, and it was. But I’d be a lying son-of-a-bitch if I claimed that Mom was the only reason I was here. Over Christmas, when I kissed Rowan, I set something in motion. My brain couldn’t stop it, and my body didn’t want to. My desire for Rowan was both simple, yet complicated. One way or the other, I had to make a decision.
“Your Mom is ready for bed. I’m going down to get her IV set up, and thought you might like to see how it’s done,” Rowan announced. Even though this was a completely inappropriate moment for it to happen, just the sound of her voice made my dick hard.
“I’ll be down in a minute,” I replied. I could imagine the look on both of their faces if I walked into Mom’s room sporting a chubby.
I entered Mom’s room right as Rowan was inserting a big ass IV needle into my mother’s arm. I quickly turned away. I hated needles.
Mom saw the look on my face, and laughed. “It doesn’t hurt,” she said, once her amusement had subsided.
“Good to know. What are you giving her?” I asked Rowan.
Rowan placed a piece of tape over the IV line protruding from Mom’s arm, before turning to answer, “The doctor prescribed morphine, which you will find in these little vials.” She opened a red, plastic case. Inside were several vials which were filled with a clear liquid. After pulling one out, she gave us step by step instructions on how to administer the medication. This was followed by an intense Q and A session, where Mom and I drilled Rowan with all of the questions we could think of.
“This is only at night. Tomorrow I’m back to pills,” Mom stated, once we were through. She waited for us both to agree, before relaxing into her pillows. Within minutes, she drifted off to sleep.
I held the door open, and waited for Rowan to follow me out into the hallway.
“Want to watch a movie? I’ll pop some popcorn,” she offered.
“She looks different. More fragile. Definitely weaker,” I said as I followed her into the kitchen. She pulled out a bag of popcorn and placed it inside the microwave before turning to answer me.
“She is more fragile and most definitely weaker. This past week has been especially…trying.” I tried to read between the lines, but she wasn’t giving me much to work with.
“Trying how? And don’t candy-coat it.”
She stared at me for a long moment. Then she gave me what I asked for. “Maeve has finally accepted that she is dying.”
She was making no sense. “Mom’s known for months now.”
“Yes, but knowing and accepting are two different things. She knew she was dying, but she held out hope that maybe it was a mistake.” She sighed. “Maeve thought that maybe the doctor’s had it wrong. This week she finally accepted it.” Her words made my gut twist. The little vein behind my left eyebrow started to twitch, and I felt like I was going to be sick. A look of concern appeared on Rowan’s face. “Are you okay?”
“Uhhh, I’m tired.” Rowan opened the microwave to retrieve the steaming bag of popcorn. The second I smelled it, my stomach revolted. She placed the bag on the counter, and I shot from the kitchen, up to my room, where I dropped before my toilet and purged. My mother was dying. The morphine was simply the beginning of the end. In a matter of weeks, months if I was lucky, she would be no more, and all I would be left with were…memories. After flushing the toilet, I pulled myself up to a standing position. When I turned to brush my teeth, Rowan was in the doorway watching me. The look on her face said it all.
“I’m sorry, Nash,” she whispered.
Sympathy poured from her lips, empathy from her eyes. I wanted her there, but also wanted her gone. When I wasn’t looking, she’d scaled my walls, this angel of death, captor of my heart. My chest was on fire. This endless pain was more than I bargained for, more than I could bear. The walls I’d erected were coming down fast, and there wasn’t a damn thing I could do except to brace for impact.
I dropped to my knees, and wailed in despair.
But then she was there, my angel, pulling me in, and holding me tight. Through strength of will she was stitching me back together, helping me to shore up my walls. Slowly, as the tears began to subside, reality set in. I was mortified, embarrassed…humiliated. Rowan had just seen me completely lose my shit. An apology sat on the tip of my tongue, but instead of letting it fly, I jerked back and scrambled to my feet. Then I bolted for the door.
“Nash!” I heard her call from behind me, but I was already down the stairs, out the door, and running. For what, I had no clue. To where, I had no idea. I just ran.
Eventually my steps slowed to a walk. I walked for who knew how long before deciding to go home. It was time to face the music. I’d acted like a tool. Once again, I owed Rowan an apology. She was probably waiting on my return, so she could rake me over the coals. I hated to admit it, but I kind of looked forward to it. Fuck knew I deserved it. I slunk into the kitchen with my head hung low, only to discover it empty. On the way past Mom’s room, I stuck my head in to check on her. The IV bag glistened in the moonlight. As I watched the morphine drain into her arm, I swallowed back remnants of my earlier breakdown. This was happening, and there was nothing I could do to stop it. I left her door cracked before heading up to Rowan’s room, where I discovered her still fully dressed, and curled on top of her bedspread. She was sound asleep, my beautiful temptress. I covered her up, and headed downstairs to my music room. With emotions running high and energy zinging through my veins, sleep was a distant thought.
I pulled the leather notebook Rowan had given me for Christmas from my music bag and opened it to the song I’d been working on. The song I could never seem to finish. I’d never had this much trouble wr
iting before, and it was starting to get to me.
After making a few slight changes to the opening, I began to play.
He walked. You stayed.
You cried. I raged.
The pain nearly swallowed us whole.
Darkness, sweet darkness, my temptress, my friend, you had me. You loved me. Don’t leave me.
This can’t be the end.
Love me now. Show me how, how to be enough.
Forgive me. Don’t forget me. Don’t destroy me. Please don’t let me. Please don’t let me…
Please, just don’t let me go.
Don’t let this be the end.
I ran over the song a few more times, before I gave up and put my guitar away. At least I’d made progress. After checking on Mom one last time, I headed up the stairs to bed. On my way past Rowan’s room, I stepped in to check on her. She hadn’t moved an inch. I leaned down and kissed the top of her head.
“Goodnight, my angel,” I whispered. Tomorrow I had some serious apologizing to do.
* * *
“Nash! Get your behind out of that bed!” Mom shouted from downstairs. With a groan of annoyance, I shoved my pillow over my head, and drifted back to sleep.
Minutes later, I felt my pillow move. I held onto it with a death grip, to which I was rewarded with a bark of girlish giggles. Finally, I loosened my grip. As Rowan lifted the pillow from my head, I got a nose full of the boner inducing perfume that she liked to wear.
“Your mom made chocolate chip pancakes,” she sang, and squealed when I grabbed her in a bear hug. Fuck pancakes. I wanted to eat Rowan for breakfast. “Naaaaaaash, what are you doing?” Her breathy tone let me know how much I affected her. Good, because she sure as hell affected me. Cobalt colored eyes filled with humor stared down at me.
“First, I need to apologize for last night.”
“No, you don’t. Y–” I placed my hand over her mouth, and laughed when she tried to bite it.
“Yes, I do. I’m sorry I ran. I should have stayed. Do you forgive me?” When she nodded her head yes, I pulled my hand from her mouth.
“What’s number two?” she asked.
“Number two?” I wasn’t sure what she was referring to.
“You said first you’d like to apologize. That means there’s a second. Soooo, what’s the second?” The smirk on her face made me smile. She returned the smile with one of her own, and I planted a kiss right on her deliciously pink lips. The moment I felt her lips part in surprise, I went in for the kill. As her fingers danced over my pecs, I grabbed her ass and squeezed. She moaned down my throat, and I pulled her in deep, rubbing her up and down my hard cock.
“Rowan! Do you need my help? Nash! Get your ass up!” Mom’s bellow was like a bucket of ice water. Rowan let out a squeak, and shot off of me like her ass was on fire.
“Hurry,” Rowan whispered. With a smile and a sexy-as-hell wink, she darted from the room. God, she was slowly killing me. There was no way I was going downstairs like this. I dug my hands inside my boxers and wrapped my fingers around my aching cock. I thought of Rowan, how she smelled, looked, tasted, while I stroked myself to completion. Then I washed off in the shower, and headed down to breakfast with a big smile on my face.
Chapter Twelve
Praying for the End of Time
Rowan
I tried to act normal during breakfast, but all I could think about was what had just happened upstairs in Nash’s bedroom. God, the man could kiss. My heart was thumping ninety to nothing and I could practically feel the heat pouring from my flushed face. If Maeve noticed my discomfort, she didn’t comment. Nash sat there shoveling food into his mouth with a knowing smirk on his face, the ass, while I focused on my food and tried to calm my raging hormones.
By the time I made it downstairs this morning, Maeve was already awake. Her eyes were bright and she was acting as ornery as ever, which told me that the morphine drip had been a good call. Her announcement that she was making breakfast both surprised and pleased me. These past weeks had been trying. Depressed Maeve was not an easy thing to deal with. I much preferred snarky, funny Maeve, and was beyond thrilled to see her return.
Once breakfast was ready, Maeve asked me to go upstairs and wake Nash. I thought nothing of her request, until I reached the top of the stairs and realized that waking Nash meant I had to enter his bedroom. What if he slept with no clothes on? My breath hitched as I pictured him lying there with his man bits on display. I thought about banging on his door, but quickly dismissed it. That would be rude. Finally, I just bit the bullet and barged into his room. He was on his back with his pillow covering most of his face. Who knows how long I stood there staring at his naked chest like a creeper, before finally waking him. When he pulled me into his arms, I nearly overdosed on lust. His beard was softer than I’d expected, and his lips…could they have been any more perfect? I could have stayed there all day kissing him. I didn’t get to see his man bits, but I sure felt them, especially when he rubbed it against me. After last night, I expected him to be distant. I couldn’t have been more wrong.
“You’re lookin good this morning, little mama,” Nash told Maeve. He took a bite of bacon and winked at her.
Maeve’s lip twitched with humor. “You always were a good liar.” Her dry tone seemed so…normal. Their sarcastic back-and-forth banter felt like old times, and I welcomed it. “Since I have you home,” Maeve directed at Nash, “and you’re both here,” she aimed at me, “I’d like to go through some of my things today.” Nash shot her a skeptical look.
“What things?” he asked over a mouthful of bacon.
“Well, let’s see. I have fifty-five years of accumulated crap. Some you may want to keep, and some you may not. Either way, I’d like a say in where my things go.”
Nash narrowed his eyes at her. “Can’t this wait until I’m home from the tour?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because I want to do it today,” Maeve snapped.
“Why?” Nash challenged. Maeve looked at me for help.
“Think of it as a way to get closure. It’s a normal reaction,” I attempted to explain.
“Sorry, sweetheart, but nothing about this is normal,” Nash countered.
“Not for you, but for someone who is dying, this is normal behavior, Nash. Your mom wants peace of mind, to know that you’re going to be okay. Is it too much to ask for you to give her this?”
Maeve cut in. “Speaking of knowing that you’re okay, I have a request.”
“Oh, God,” Nash mumbled, and I shot him a scathing look.
Maeve continued as if he hadn’t spoken, “After I’m gone, I want Rowan to stay and live here.” Her words made me spit my orange juice across the table.
“What?” I screeched.
“You want Rowan and I to live together here… in sin?” I could tell by Nash’s tone that he was trying to get a rise out of her.
“How you live is up to you. I simply want to know that she has a place to rest her head at the end of the day.” My eyes smarted. God, I loved this woman. She was trying to take care of me. “It’s not like we don’t have enough room,” she told me. “Nash is rarely even here.” She looked back-and-forth between the two of us. “I want you to take care of each other.” Nash stared at her in obvious shock, and I felt bad for him. Talk about stuck between a rock and a hard place.
“That’s really sweet of you, Maeve, but I’m going to be okay,” I assured her.
She leveled her shrewd eyes at me. “Promise me you will at least consider it.”
After wiping up my orange juice spit from the table, I reached over and clasped her hand in mine. “I’m going to be okay,” I repeated.
“Promise me.” Her firm tone brooked no argument. I looked to Nash for help, but all I got was a shoulder shrug. There was no way I could stay here. “Rowan.” Maeve’s warning tone spurred me into action.
“Fine, I promise I’ll consider it.”
Maeve clapped her hands and smiled
. “Good. Now, I’d like to start in my closet.”
As the three of us began weeding through Maeve’s belongings, I tried not to think about her request. Whereas it would be wonderful to have a place to call home, I didn’t think I could live here with Nash. Maeve wanted us to take care of each other, not each other’s sexual needs. I was going to have to figure out a way to tell her no without hurting her feelings.
The time we spent cleaning out the house was just what the doctor ordered. Nash and Maeve reminisced about the past, told stories about Nash’s childhood, and talked about things to come. The day was filled with love, laughter, and even a few tears. It was the perfect homage to Maeve, and I couldn’t have been more proud of Nash. Even though it wasn’t what he wanted to be doing, he managed to tough it out and to make his mother happy.
Around five, Maeve started to peter out. Truthfully, I was surprised she’d made it as long as she had. At my suggestion, Nash made the two of us hamburgers and a smoothie for Maeve.
The moment he swallowed his last bite of burger, Maeve held up her arm with the IV port attached, and said, “Hook me up, Scotty. I’m toast.”
“Don’t you mean beam me up?” Nash teased.
“That, too,” she said through her laughter. Nash stood and started clearing the dishes, while I helped Maeve to her bedroom.
“You cooked. I’ll take care of the kitchen once I get your mom settled,” I called over my shoulder.
His lips turned up into a devilish smile. “I was hoping you’d say that.” Maeve let out a snort of humor.
“He always did hate kitchen duty,” she muttered.
“I still do!” he called after her.
Once I got Maeve settled in bed, Nash kissed her on the forehead and declared that he was off to take a shower. Maeve and I discussed the racy book she’d been reading before I went over the instructions on how to unhook her IV from the port in her arm in case she needed to go to the bathroom or happened to wake up early. Once she had the hang of it, I administered the morphine. The poor girl was practically asleep before her head hit the pillow. After recording her vitals, I cleaned up the kitchen. While doing this, I reflected back on today’s activities, starting with what happened in Nash’s bedroom this morning. I didn’t know what to think. Clearly we’d stepped over a line. I wasn’t sure what that meant for him, but I certainly knew what it meant for me. I wanted him. I always had. I just wasn’t willing to admit it until now. My conscience wouldn’t let me take advantage of his mother, but if given the chance to be with him, I was going to take it…even if it was a one-time deal and meant walking away when all was said and done. The dance that we’d been doing for months now was officially over. Nash had made a declaration this morning, and I was calling him on it.