Home: Ky & Nick (Six Degrees Book 1)

by Sandy Smith

  I choked briefly on my wine but tried not to draw attention to myself, waiting to see if he was going to go on. I wanted to say something but didn’t want to interrupt.

  “Dad was... is… well, Dad allows it. Molly always taught me the behaviour you walk past is the behaviour you accept. Mum might not have had any respect for her marriage vows or my family, but Dad just putting up with it with a fake smile on his face almost seems worse to me. Maybe that’s pathetic. I actually asked him about it once. Why he didn’t care and let it happen. He said his marriage vows had said for better or worse, and he had meant them. What marriage vows, for fuck’s sake? He thinks he is respecting something that doesn’t even exist in any real way! Open or poly relationships I completely understand but I can’t for the life of me think of one single situation in which cheating could be forgivable. Not one.'' His voice had gotten harder and colder, and I reached out to touch his arm.

  He seemed startled by my touch but then smiled weakly “Sorry, I didn’t mean to ruin the mood.”

  “You didn’t ruin anything. I wanted to get to know you more. This is part of you. Not everything about either of us is going to be happy or cheerful. It doesn’t mean it’s not worth knowing.”

  His smile grew a bit warmer. “Okay, tell me what’s not so happy or cheerful about you, then.”

  I was kicking myself for not anticipating him turning the question around. I stood to refill our glasses, anything to move. “Not much to tell. It was just Mum and me for a long time. I saw my grandparents and aunty a couple of times, but they weren’t really in our lives if that makes sense.” He nodded as I continued.

  “As you know, Mum worked as a cleaner. It didn’t pay much, but Barry and Sue, her bosses, let her bring me as long as I didn’t get in the way and the clients didn’t object. After I started school, Mum tried to pick up extra cleaning work if she could get someone to watch me. I started a paper run when I was twelve for a few years, then…” I paused, trying to work out where to go with my answer.

  “And then…” Nick prompted.

  “Umm, and then I did odd jobs, a bit of this and a bit of that. After Mum and Tim moved in together, things were heaps easier. I cut back and worked at the coffee shop near home through years eleven and twelve. That’s about it. I wanted to be a cop, and I know I could’ve done a policing degree, but I decided to do law at Sydney Uni instead and then joined. I wasn’t eighteen yet when I finished school so I couldn’t join straight away.”

  Nicholas asked more questions about university and friends. Then about becoming a cop and the first few years in the job, and before I knew it, it was after midnight.

  I yawned. Then, remembering a question from earlier, I asked, “Who’s Molly?”

  “Pardon?”

  “Molly. You said earlier Molly taught you the behaviour you walk past is the behaviour you accept. Is she your sister?”

  Nicholas glanced out the window, then cleared his throat. “No, I don’t have any siblings. I was the obligation child to keep up appearances and make a nice family portrait for the office. Molly was my nanny. Well, one of many, I suppose. She was with us a few years when she finished school, until she got engaged and moved away. I guess I would have been around three or four until I was about eleven or twelve. But she…” He paused and swallowed. “She was more of a mum to me in those eight years than my own mother has been in the other eighteen.”

  Nicholas glanced at the time. “Bloody hell, I didn’t realize it was so late. I should probably head home.”

  I wanted to ask him to stay, but this had been about getting to know each other, not jumping into bed again, so I reluctantly smiled and started picking up our glasses and the dishes we had abandoned on the dining table when we moved to the lounge. Nicholas bought the empty wine bottle in and put it in the recycling bin.

  We stood facing each other: just inches apart, not talking, not moving. Then he raised one hand to brush along my jaw. “Please tell me I can see you again?”

  I nodded, and he smiled. “Please tell me I can kiss you good night?”

  I nodded again, not sure of my voice. And no matter what we had done before, this was what I would always remember as our first kiss. And it was a first kiss, yet so much more than I expected. Initially, we were hesitant, but the warmth pulled me in, and the kiss deepened until I moaned. Then Nicholas pulled away, slightly breathless, resting his head against my cheek. It couldn’t end there. He couldn’t stop there.

  “Nick, please tell me you can do that again?” I whispered, against his hair.

  The answering kiss was harder, more forceful, and as his tongue met mine and his hand ran over my short hair, I held on to him as hard as I dared. Without thinking, we were moving to the lounge room. I broke free to gasp in a breath, still clinging to him. In between kisses and nips down my neck, I muttered, “Bedroom. This way.”

  I didn’t move away but guided us gently in the right direction. Nick stopped moving. I pulled back to look at him, unsure if I had done something wrong. His eyes were still closed, and he gently tugged me forward again until our foreheads leaned against each other.

  After a couple more breaths, he spoke softly. “I would love to go to your bedroom. So much. But not tonight. Tonight has been so perfect. You... are so perfect.”

  I knew what he was saying. I knew he wanted me. Our bodies were lined up so closely, it was pretty hard not to know how much we both wanted it. But the night had been more. And he was right. It had been perfect.

  Chapter Nine

  Work had managed to settle back to normal hours, and even though I was still hitting my head against a brick wall on the missing Short children, we were making progress on our other cases. Everything I had been able to find on Aimee Short indicated she was a quiet, very conservative kid. She made friends and seemed well-liked, but never went to parties or sleepovers and never invited anyone to her house. I organized to speak to each of the aunties and uncles as well as the older cousins once more.

  The interviews with the three older cousins took some time to set up, And even though we were going over a lot of ground already covered, we hoped something in there could give us a clue we had previously missed. I re-asked some old questions slightly differently, hoping to get something new. Charlotte, the oldest of the cousins, didn’t seem to be Aimee’s biggest fan but was short on actual information. No matter how many different ways I asked, it came down to Aimee was boring and didn’t do anything. A lot of photos of the girls featured playing when they were little, and they had seemed close, but teenage girls could be difficult, so maybe they grew apart.

  After asking more questions about their history, Charlotte revealed that, after they started high school, Aimee withdrew from social things, like she thought she was too good to hang with Charlotte anymore. She wouldn’t come to play with Charlotte after school anymore or to parties or sleepovers.

  And then she both surprised me and gave me the first new piece of information for the day when she whispered, “I know Mum doesn’t want to say it to her sister because Aunt Penny thinks Aimee was perfect, but even Mum didn’t like the way Aimee behaved.”

  Further questions didn’t get me anything else, and I really hoped Brooke had fared better. He was already at his computer typing his notes when I wrapped things up and headed back into the office area.

  “So?” I leaned against the edge of his desk.

  He glanced at me but frantically continued typing while I glared at him.

  “Ah, excuse me Detective Grayson?” I asked in a far sterner tone.

  “Sorry,” he muttered, looking flustered. “Sorry, just had to get that thought down.” He sat back and moved his chair back as if to get away from me.

  Oh hell no. My original question was forgotten. “I’m sorry, do I smell or have bad breath or something?” I asked, making a show of smelling my own breath.

  “No, no,” he stammered.

  I continued to glare at him. Even dickhead narcissists backed down when I glared. And he d
idn’t disappoint. He did, however, stay back where he was, even when I asked him how his interviews had gone with Jeff and Stacey. He glanced at his computer a few times before answering.

  I sighed and stood up. “For God’s sake, you aren’t going to catch the gay if you get too close to me.”

  He didn’t make eye contact but pretended to be looking at his notes. “No, I know that. I just didn’t want you to get the wrong idea.”

  God, I wanted to kill this kid, but there was no point. I tried to remember why I had come over to his desk in the first place. “So tell me about the interviews.”

  He seemed happier with this topic and talked almost more quickly than I could follow, but the gist was neither Stacey nor Jeff said anything new or even anything vaguely interesting. When I pressed for more, he said he got the vibe Stacey didn’t like Aimee for some reason, even though Jeff was the doting concerned uncle, and it didn’t sit right.

  “What didn’t sit right?” I pushed.

  “The vibe,” was the only answer I got.

  I frowned and tried again. “Do you think they are hiding something?”

  “I’m not sure about Stacey. Maybe she doesn’t even really know why she didn’t like Aimee. But I know for sure Jeff is hiding something.”

  “Like what?”

  Brooke frowned as he thought about how to answer. “I’m not sure, so I don’t want to say.”

  “Spit it out.”

  “Did you ever look in Charlotte or Ryan’s rooms?” he asked instead of answering.

  “I never had a reason to. Why?” I ignored one of the other detectives on my team, grumbling at his desk.

  Now Brooke looked a little less sure, glancing at the still-grumbling detective. “Look, it’s probably nothing, but there were no photos.” I waited for him to continue. “The photos you keep going back to at the Short house. Penny said Jeff printed most of them and gives them to the kids for Christmas and birthdays, even Easter. So why don’t his own kids have photos?”

  I mentally went through the photos in my mind, but he was right.

  The grumbles got a bit louder, so I directed the next question to the other detective. “So what do you think? What did you hear in the interview?”

  He shrugged. “Nothing new. This isn’t a remake of The Castle. The ‘vibe’,” he said, even doing the air quotes, “doesn’t tell us jack shit.”

  I glanced back at Detective Grayson, who I wanted to kill more days than not. “Except sometimes it tells us everything.”

  When I left the station for the night, I was still restless about the case and frustrated with Grayson. I rang Nick on the way home, thinking it would probably go through to message bank but at least I would still get to hear that voice telling me to leave a message.

  Surprisingly, he picked up on the first ring. “Hi.” He sounded happy to hear from me. God, even one word was enough to make me feel warmer.

  “Hi. I’m thinking of getting pet pigs.”

  “Umm, well…” He obviously wasn’t anticipating that and wasn’t quite sure what the correct response was. “I’ve never had a pet, so… ahh.”

  “Oh no, these pigs will be mine, with absolutely no connection to you at all.”

  “Of course. Sorry, yes, well—”

  I chuckled. “I meant for your own good. The less you know, the better. I’m seriously thinking of killing a co-worker, and pigs eat pretty much anything.”

  That got a laugh. “Well, the whole ‘the less I know the better thing’ didn’t really pan out for you, did it? Grayson again?”

  “Yeah. The dickwad couldn’t even sit close to his desk because I was standing too close, and he didn’t want me to get the wrong idea.”

  Nick’s voice didn’t sound so warm anymore “What the fuck! If the wrong idea is that he is a reasonable human being, he can rest assured there is no danger. Can you not do something about this bloody twat?”

  I kind of loved how angry he sounded on my behalf. “If you’re happy to let me vent away when he pisses me off, that’s all I need. Fortunately, his one redeeming feature is he’s good at his job, so there really isn’t much point making an issue.”

  “Are you on your way home? It sounds like you’re in the car.”

  “Yeah, how about you? Are you still at work? It sounds like you’re outside.”

  “Actually, yes and no. I’m working but not in the office. I’m in Byron.”

  “Sorry? You’re in Byron?”

  “Yes,” he laughed. “I’m working very hard.”

  I heard a faint voice calling, “Or hardly working!”

  He ignored the voice. “You know we were looking at Rainbow Beach for a new property, but a possible opportunity has come up here, and Eric and I popped up for the day to have a look.”

  “Just popped up to Byron for the day? Okay, umm, so you will still be back before Saturday?”

  “Yes, definitely. We’ll head back home later tonight. What did you have in mind for Saturday?”

  “I’m not sure, but I thought we could do something. Up to you.”

  Someone spoke in the background again, presumably Eric.

  “I would love to do something this weekend. I still haven’t repaid you for cooking for me. I’m not much of a chef, but if I cheat, get takeaway, and assemble it on a plate, does it still count?”

  I smiled. “I would love for you to assemble dinner for me.”

  “Excellent.” I could hear the smile in his voice, almost like my smile.

  Nick’s voice became muffled, as if his hand was covering his phone, but their conversation was too low to make out words. Then the voices got a bit louder. “…then just tell me who it is?”

  Then Nick’s muffled voice. “No one. It’s no one, okay!”

  No one.

  A horn reminded me to pay attention to the road. I changed lanes and indicated to turn into my street. As I parked, I realized Nick was still talking to me, but I hadn’t heard anything over the buzzing in my ears.

  “…but which would you prefer?” There was no background noise now on his end. He had asked me a question, but I had no idea what.

  No one. It’s no one.

  “Umm, I don’t mind. Either… I mean…” I took a deep breath. “Sorry, I have no idea what you were just saying.”

  “Oh, I was walking outside. Maybe the receptions not so good. I’m not sure how much you missed.”

  I wanted to brush it off and just ask him to repeat the question. I knew I was overreacting. Instead I whispered, “Everything after you said I was no one.”

  I heard his sharp intake of breath, and I closed my eyes, laying my head back on the headrest.

  Then nothing.

  I shouldn’t have said it. I should have let it go.

  “Baby,” he breathed. “God, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean it like that.”

  I felt like an idiot for making it sound like a big deal. For sounding needy. I hated sounding needy. And I wasn’t usually a drama queen. So why did my mind freak out whenever I was around him?

  “It’s fine. Don’t worry. What was the question you were asking me? I didn’t catch it.” I tried to make my voice stronger, more upbeat.

  “Please don’t do that.” His voice was still soft but firm. “Don’t say it fine when it’s not. I didn’t mean you were no one. Please believe me.”

  I swallowed.

  “Baby?”

  I took a breath. “I believe you.” And I did. I knew I wasn’t no one to him.

  “I’m sorry if it sounded like I was dismissing you. I wasn’t. Eric has been nagging me for a few weeks about why I was smiling. Apparently, I don’t do it often. He broke up with his girlfriend this morning, so I didn’t think it was the right moment to be gloating about how amazing my boyfriend is. I wanted to shut him up so I could talk to you. I’m so sorry, Ky. I really am. I hate I made you feel that way.”

  I felt myself smiling, truly smiling. I was still sitting in my car, just grinning down at my lap.

  “Ky? Baby?�
�

  Through my smile, I managed to say, “Boyfriend?”

  “Well, yes. I mean, I thought that’s what you are. I know I overreacted to that word before, but I realised how much it fits and it felt good to think of you as that. Perhaps I jumped the gun. Should I have asked you first?”

  “No! Yes. I mean no. Jesus. No, you didn’t need to ask me before calling me that. It was just the first time I had heard you use the word, and it felt kinda nice.”

  “I wish you were here. I miss you.”

  “Mmm. I wish I was there too.”

  “I know we’re having dinner on Saturday.” The anxiety left his tone. “But could I see you on Friday? I have a few things on in the morning with some new contractors, but I should be able to wrap it all up at a reasonable hour.”

  “And what were you thinking of for Friday?” I asked.

  “Well, I’m not sure.” He paused, thinking.

  I laughed a little. “I honestly don’t care what we do. I only asked because I was trying to prolong the conversation. I love your voice. And that accent. It just… I just…” I sighed

  He chuckled. “Baby, I don’t have an accent. You, on the other hand, sound so bloody sexy it should be illegal. I could sit and listen to you for hours.”

  “I really should go. I have been sitting here for a little while, and it probably looks like I’m casing the place. Call me tomorrow when you’re free. Okay?”

  “Okay,” Nick agreed. “Baby?”

  I had never been huge on pet names or endearments. But God, when said in that voice...

  “Yeah?”

  “I am truly sorry.” I could hear the regret in his voice. And perhaps worry.

  “Don’t worry about it. I’m really fine. Really. I was being an idiot, but even with that, I believe you didn’t mean it. It’s forgotten.”

  “Okay.” He didn’t sound so sure.

  “I mean it. Now you need to hang up because otherwise I am going to sit here listening to your voice, and at some point, my neighbours really will call the police. If for no other reason than I have been sitting alone in my car for the past fifteen minutes smiling at my lap.”