As he walked from his hotel to the hardware store with Nathan he realized, “We’re not going to be able to carry all of this back between the two of us.” He should have thought of that sooner. It wasn’t like him to miss a detail like that.
“We’ll have it delivered. The owner’s son can drop us and it off.” Nathan didn’t sound concerned.
“Don’t you have to schedule that?”
Nathan gave him a puzzled look. “Why? If Mateo isn’t here, we might have to wait an hour or two. No big deal.”
Nick had a hard time wrapping his brain around letting things happen as they would. But when in Rome... or Milan.
The rain had slowed to a drizzle, and it plinked softly against the umbrella they shared. “Are you and your father close?” Nathan asked.
“We were. My parents died when I was twenty.” Fiona had been sixteen. Nick became her legal guardian. She hadn’t needed much raising or supervision, she’d always been a responsible kid, but it brought them closer.
“I’m sorry to hear it.”
“Thanks. It was tough at the time.” It had been more than a decade. He’d done his mourning, and their passing was a dull thud in his heart now. “We were one of those disgustingly cute families who always got alone.”
Nathan gave a short chuckle. “You probably saw that Tara’s like too. She bitches about being overshadowed by the family name, but she adores her brother and parents.”
This was an oddly personal question. Then again, Nick had fucked the guy’s girlfriend while he watched. “What about your family? Must be hard with them being so far away. The northern midwest?”
“Good ear.” Nathan’s voice tightened. “And it’s not as hard as you might think. Haven’t been back in a decade, and it’s been longer since we spoke.”
“Should I ask why?” It seemed like the polite thing to do.
“No. You really shouldn’t.”
Nick was curious, but not enough to dig for details about an off-limits topic.
The plink of raindrops filled in the conversation for the rest of their walk.
They reached the hardware store. Nick grabbed a cart, and walked down the nearest aisle.
“We don’t need... I don’t know, something bigger?” Nathan asked.
“This is a temporary fix. We only need a few supplies, but some of them will get heavy.”
Fifteen minutes later, Nick had found one item on his list. “Is there any other place nearby to get building supplies?”
“There are bigger stores. We can take a drive if you need. But you might have more luck asking the owner, first.” Nathan led them to the back of the store. “Piero,” he called.
An older man behind the counter turned, and smiled when he saw Nathan. He said something Nick didn’t understand.
Nathan replied. The only word Nick caught was his own name.
Piero shook Nick’s hand and said something else.
The language barrier was going to make things difficult.
“His son would translate, but he won’t be back for a little while. He’s asking what you need,” Nathan said.
That would work. “Sheet metal tiles, that can be used on a roof.”
Nathan worked his jaw. “Uh...”
“Is something wrong?”
“I’m not exactly fluent. I know enough to get me through a polite conversation,” Nathan confessed. “I’m trying to think of the right words.” What he said next was in Italian, but punctuated with heavy pauses.
Piero frowned, and looked between Nathan and Nick, then pointed to the danish on the counter behind him.
The exchange went back and forth a little longer, with Nick and Piero both growing more frustrated
Nick pulled his phone from his pocket and searched for the item he wanted. “Excuse me.” He handed the device to Piero.
The store owner smiled and nodded. He held up an index finger, said something, and walked away.
“He says he’ll be right back,” Nathan translated.
Nick kept a sarcastic retort to himself. The situation was more amusing than irritating.
An hour later, they had everything loaded into a small pickup truck, and were heading back to the apartment.
“You really learned all this from doing summer work for your dad?” Nathan asked.
Nick shrugged. “And it was the conversation around the house a lot of nights.”
“Hmm.” Nathan frowned.
He didn’t say anything else, and Nick didn’t push. Whatever demons lived in the guy’s past were his. Nick had his own problems to deal with.
Like the fact that he’d slept with a potential business partner and her boyfriend last night. After all the shit he gave Fiona, Nick was making the same mistakes.
Except that he wasn’t. He wasn’t falling for Tara. She wasn’t trying to destroy his company. And he was wooing her brother, not her.
That list should be far more reassuring than it was.
CHAPTER TWELVE
NATHAN RECOGNIZED TARA’S fury the instant he saw her clenched jaw and pursed lips. He set down the stack of supplies he was carrying, and directed Nick and Mateo to do the same. The instant they were unpacked, Nathan turned to Tara. “What happened?”
“Asshole roofers say they can’t get out here for two weeks. And they only reason they’re not charging me is because of who I am. He claims there’s a very narrow warranty on that kind of restoration work. There’s not. I have the contract.”
“We’ll figure it out.” Nathan squeezed her fingers.
Tara sank into the seat behind the reception desk. “I don’t know what else to do. I can threaten all I want, but if he insists he can’t come out right away, I can’t change that. If he’s actually booked, I don’t want to queue jump and push someone else aside who needs the work done.”
Nathan hated that he couldn’t offer more than comfort. He could paint a mural up there. Maybe hack the roofer’s email and embarrass him in front of his family.
“I can take a closer look,” Nick said. “I can’t promise any more than I’m already planning, but I can make sure you’re set until you can get professionals in here. Possibly help you figure out if another contractor will do a better job for you.”
The corners of Tara’s mouth tugged up in an almost-smile. “Are you serious?”
Of course he was.
“Of course.”
Nathan didn’t care for Nick’s answer echoing his own thoughts.
Tara looked past them and said something in Italian. Nathan loved hearing her speak the language. He caught enough to know she was thanking Mateo and telling him to expect another visit in the next couple of days.
His reply contained the phrase better translator.
Nathan swallowed a scowl.
Mateo told them Ciao, and was on his way.
Tara looked at Nick. “He suggests I go with you next time you go back.”
“We did all right.” Nick laughed.
Nathan didn’t like that the dark clouds building inside matched the storm outside. This guy wasn’t trying to step on his toes. Nick had the skills they needed and was offering to help. It had nothing to do with last night. Which was a one-time thing. And even if Tara wanted to pursue it, that was up to her.
Nathan was just feeling irritable because Nick’s story about his parents shoved Nathan into his own past.
It didn’t matter that he saw how well Tara got along with her family, Nathan couldn’t imagine that life. His own father kicked him out when he came out as bisexual at sixteen.
He didn’t want to traipse down that path today. “Did you reach out to our afternoon appointments? I can do that.”
“I’ve got it covered,” Tara said. “Rescheduled for later this week. It’ll make some of our timing tight, but we’ll manage.” She looked at Nick. “You’ll have to work around them for the rest of your install. There’s no other way to make this happen.”
“That’s fine.”
Of course it was. Nathan banishe
d the bitter thought. He needed to deal with his jealousy before it festered.
“You’re fantastic, thank you.” Tara hugged Nick. “I owe you twice over.”
“I already said you don’t owe me.” Nick was smooth. No doubt about it.
There was no way Nathan was getting worked up over a hug. “What comes next?”
“We have to wait until the roof is dry to do the work. I got some solvent to clean the graffiti off the front of the shop, but that needs to be dry as well,” Nick said.
Tara shrugged. “Then we’ll have breakfast while we wait. Nathan makes an incredible fette biscottate—better than you’ll find anywhere—and we have some on hand.”
“Have a seat and give us about fifteen minutes.” Nathan nodded toward the couch in the shop lobby. It was guaranteed to be dry. And he was only feeling a hint of relief at having something to do that Nick couldn’t.
Upstairs, he and Tara set out the food. She grabbed dishes while he made lattes. He filled mugs while she arranged everything on a tray. The seamless ballet reminded Nathan they had a solid thing together.
NICK SCROLLED THROUGH his phone while he waited for breakfast.
When Tara said she owed him, he was tempted to call in the favor. Memories of the night before wanted to ask for a repeat. The tastes, sounds, and sensations still danced on his skin.
He wouldn’t put that pressure on any of them. It had been fun. He was happy to leave it at a great shared moment, and move on.
If he were talking to anyone else, and wanted the connection with a family member that she had, he’d ask her to put in a good word. That didn’t feel right though.
He couldn’t define why not, but doubt in his chest kept him from saying the words. Last night must be wreaking more havoc on his thoughts than he wanted to admit. It wasn’t like him to let a one-night stand take up space in his head. Sex was sex, and business was business, and neither one should be impacted by his personal feelings.
His phone chimed with a new text. He frowned as he read the message from his bank. His business account was overdrawn. Fuck.
He logged into his account, and his concern grew. One of those payments wasn’t supposed to process until next week. He had a deposit coming in that was more than enough to handle that, plus the other bill than had just bounced.
Double fuck. He couldn’t afford these fees.
His tension cranked past a snapping point, tightening in his neck and running into his arms. There was a solution though.
He dialed the bank. Fortunately, he’d had the account for years, and most of the staff knew him. He needed to smooth talk his way into a work-around.
“Desert First Associated Credit Union, this is Lisa.”
“Lisa, hey. This is Nicholas Walters. How’s your morning going?”
“Not bad. How’s Italy?”
He’d let them know he was traveling, so they wouldn’t put unneeded holds on his account. “It’s gorgeous. You’d love it here. There’s a cathedral down the street from my hotel with some amazing stained glass.”
“Sounds stunning. Bring home pictures.”
“I will.” He mentally braced himself. “Listen, I’m hoping you can help me out.”
“Sure.” Her tone was chipper.
This was going to hurt. He had a handful of personal CD’s, and he needed to cash one out early to cover this discrepancy. It would cost him, but not as much as having his business shut down due to lack of cash flow. “I miscalculated on my business account. If I get some money in there now, is there any way you can clear the check that just bounced?”
Hesitation spread over the line. He’d wonder if it was the cross-ocean connection, but it hadn’t been there before.
Please let her say yes.
“I guess, just this once. And only if you promise lots of photos.”
He chuckled. “I promise.”
Nick finished the arrangements and disconnected. He dropped his phone onto the couch, and his head into his hands. The juggling act today would keep them solvent until the next payment from Rinslet cleared, but this was the second time he’d dipped into personal funds to keep the business afloat. How many times could he afford to do that before things sank?
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
THE WEATHER LET UP as they were finishing breakfast, and the sun spilled over the city.
“No promises that the rain won’t come back. But if it doesn’t, do you think we’ll make it up there today?” Tara knew better than to bet on the weather.
Nick shrugged. “We don’t need much time, so we’ll check in a couple of hours. If things are dry enough to walk around safely, we’ll put a temporary seal in place to keep you dry in case the storm comes back between now and repairs.”
“I guess we get back to the everyday grind in the meantime.” She should be more upset. Nick’s approach, and the fact that he was sticking around, helped her mood. She also liked seeing that he and Nathan seemed to be getting along.
“Most of what I’m doing today is starting installs and letting them run. A lot of waiting,” Nick said. “Any chance I could watch two experts at work in the meantime?”
She liked that idea. Mostly because it meant he’d be hanging around.
“You don’t have any ink.” Nathan’s comment seemed to come from no where.
Tara noticed that last night. She’d gotten a pretty good view of what Nick had to offer. “We should change that.”
Nick’s eyes grew wide. “I don’t... That’s not necessary.”
“It’s not, but it would be fun. Unless you’re worried about what your boss will say if he finds out.” Tara let teasing mixed with challenge fall into her tone.
Nathan leaned in to rest his forearms on the counter. “We’ll start small, and after one, you’ll be an addict.”
“I doubt that.” Nick chuckled. “But I suppose one won’t hurt.”
“It will. That’s part of the process.” Tara winked. “But you’re not afraid of a little pain.” Was this turning her on just a little? The heat racing over her skin said yes.
“That doesn’t sound work related.” Nick leaned back in his seat, and sipped his coffee. “Or rather, it doesn’t sound like it would help you get your work done.”
Nathan grabbed the magnetic notepad off the fridge, and flipped to a blank page. “We’ll film it.”
“Nope. I don’t do cameras.” Nick’s playful consideration vanished.
Tara respected that. “We’ll keep the mics off, keep the lens on your... whatever body part you pick, and use it for filler footage. No one ever has to know it’s you.”
Nick raised an eyebrow. “Even if I was considering it, I don’t know what I’d get or where.”
“This.” Nathan turned the notepad toward them. “Wrapped around your upper arm. Kind of cliché, but it’s fleshy and less tender than other places, and you can cover it and keep up the conservative good guy image when you need.”
At the center of the drawing was a simple, three-pointed Celtic knot. Each point had vines running from it, that met further down, and wove together in an intricate braid
Tara grinned at the design. “It’s perfect. Don’t you think?” She looked at Nick.
He studied the notepad, lips pursed and brown drawn. A tiny smile crept in. “Yeah. It is. All right, I’m in. Promise me we’ll keep the mics off, and you’ll only record my arm.”
“Cross my heart.” Tara traced an X over her chest. A new kind of giddiness flitted inside. She wasn’t sure where it was focused—on spending more time with Nick, on helping him take that first step toward this delicious addiction...
Nathan slid her the notepad. “You do the work.” He looked at Nick. “Get your installs going, we’ll set up, then we can get started.”
Half an hour later, they were seated in one of the work rooms, with Nick in the chair, his shirt off and his arm resting comfortably for Tara to access. She liked seeing him shirtless. The way muscle rippled under skin, in a tone defiant of someone who sat at a desk m
ost of the day.
It didn’t matter that she’d taken the sight in last night. It was a new kind of delicious in the daylight. She didn’t mind the excuse to run her fingers along his skin either. Even with gloved hands, she felt the sparks that rushed between them.
“How did the two of you meet?” Nick asked as she started work.
She wasn’t comfortable telling him the whole story and definitely didn’t need the internet hearing it. Was this his way of ensuring they weren’t recording sound? No. She was reading too much into things.
It wasn’t that her relationship with Nathan was sordid, but the events that led to them meeting each other were a painful reminder of how Marco treated her.
“Is it like Emily’s story? It starts with a chance encounter in San Jose?” Nick asked.
“Art class.” Tara gave a hurried response before Nathan could go too far back in their history. She met his gaze, and he gave her a slight nod, as if he understood where she wanted to pick up from.
“She was teaching,” Nathan said. “I wasn’t there with the best of intentions.”
Tara bit back the urge to cut him off. Please let him be on the same page as me.
“I saw the instructor was pretty, so I signed up.”
She mentally sighed with relief and let her smile drift in.
“You must have been an artist before then.” Nick’s voice blended with the hum of the needle. Every few seconds he flinched, but was otherwise the perfect still client. “Your level of skill doesn’t happen from a single class and mixed with flirting. Even when your instructor is the brilliant artist yours was.”
Tara’s skin heated at the compliment, but she kept her focus on her work.
“I was. I knew exactly what I was doing art-wise and was determined to show this stunning woman that I deserved her attention.” Nathan was smug.
Nick chuckled. “I don’t expect that went the way you wanted.”
Tara looked up from her work to study him. “Why do you say that?” It was true, but she was curious about his logic.
“I can’t see you putting up with anyone walking into your classroom with a line like hey, pretty lady. Look how talented I am.”
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