51. Ways to Get Home Again

FIFTY-ONE

Whatever. I dont care anymore

It took days for us to leave Atlantic City. I never even left the hotel room across the street from the hospital. Kate brought the kids back to Lea's house in Belmont so they could have an escape and also so Lea could have some time to figure out how to talk to them more completely about their father's death. Matthew stayed in Atlantic City to deal with the police reports and other legal matters so that Lea wouldn't have to.

Nathan and I stayed mostly for hugs. Well, and to talk to doctors (at least, Nathan did). And to curl up together in our hotel room, murmur into each other's ears about how we loved each other, and try not to think about all the loss and trauma that we'd just endured.

There wasn't much I could really do to help other than be there, but that I would do. And Nathan wasn't about to leave me.

Eventually, though, the paperwork was finished. Too many statements to count were given, especially after the Coast Guard apprehended the yacht just before it crossed into international waters. Mike's body was en route to New York to be buried, followed by Matthew and Lea in a rental car. We'd been through so much in the past few days that I hadn't even thought about where we were going until I followed Nathan to a rental car in the hotel's garage and saw that the plate was from Virginia.

I stopped in front of it and looked up. "Oh—oh no."

Nathan looked up from where he had just opened the driver's side door. "What's wrong?"

I pointed at the plate. "You're going back to…Nathan, I can't go back to Virginia. I'm sorry, but I just can't."

He frowned. "I never said we were going there. I assumed you'd want to follow your family to New York."

"I–yes. But even after that." Sadness wrapped around me. Why did this have to be so hard? "I'm going to have to stay. I don't know what the future is going to look like, but Lea has no one but me and Kate there to help her. And with the kids, and the shop…" I drifted. The whole situation felt hopeless to me. I couldn't imagine what Lea was feeling. "She's been there for me my whole life. I have to be there for her now."

Nathan examined me for a long moment, then rounded the car to take me in his arms and framed my face with his hands so I had to look up at him. "Of course, you're going," he told me. "And so am I."

"But…but…." I sounded like a broken speedboat. "But what about your family? What about Isla?"

For the first time in days, I finally received a smile. The one that warmed me to the core.

"We haven't talked about it yet," Nathan said. He shook his head, as if embarrassed. It was adorable. "I forgot. I never forget things."

I tugged on the pockets of his jacket—the one from the hotel gift shop with Atlantic City splashed in bright pink lettering over a casino table. He made it look like couture. "Tell me."

"You should have told me you were going to meet with the de Vrieses. I would have gone with you." Nathan shook his head. "I'm ashamed I didn't think of the angle myself."

I bit my lip. Holy crap. Had my plan worked?

"I'm glad you didn't," I told him. "You're not that manipulative. It's one of my favorite things about you."

One brow rose quizzically. "And you are?"

I swallowed and grinned. "Normally, no. But this was a desperate situation."

"It certainly was." Nathan gathered me close again and pressed a kiss to the top of my head. "I was so scared, Joni. So fucking scared I had lost you. When the doormen said you hadn't come home, I thought I was losing my mind. But Carrick pulled some strings with the FBI. They found you take on a surveillance camera. By Shawn. Carrick had already gotten the invitation for the party, and we put the two together."

A shadow passed over both of us at the mention of my now-dead ex-boyfriend.

My feelings about his death at our hands were…complicated. There was some guilt, yes. A lot of it. And some genuine fear that I might be going to hell for what I'd done.

But there was also remorse. Relief, yes. And grief, even, for the girl who had thought she had loved the man, even if that love was just a manipulation of his.

One day, I'd make sense of it all. Or maybe never.

"I still can't believe Carrick found me," I said. "Or even helped you find me too. I thought he hated me."

"He doesn't like you very much," Nathan admitted. "But he said he respects you. And that we deserved a shot at freedom together even if his sorry carcass had to take the brunt. His words, not mine." He chuffed against the crown of my head. "I don't think I've ever heard Carrick say he respects anything, so that's fairly impressive."

I smiled weakly against Nathan's chest. "So long as he leaves us alone, I'll take it."

He tipped my chin up so he could look at me again. "Your plan worked. At least, I think it was your plan. Apparently, the board received a call from Eric de Vries with a proposal for a major project between his company and Huntwell. It was, however, contingent on a member of the Huntwell board remaining in New York as a permanent liaison." He tipped his head. "Apparently my father found it too lucrative to refuse. Even when I told him I wouldn't sign the paperwork unless they transferred Isla's guardianship to me."

My eyes popped open. "And…did they?"

Nathan's smile was like being enveloped in a hug. "They did. Once she finishes at Ferndale, she'll move up to New York. I'm going to start looking for a house in Westchester when we get back."

"Somewhere with horses," I put in.

He nodded, that smile spreading into a grin. "And a dance studio."

"And an…operating table?"

We both laughed.

"I think we can keep that at the hospital," Nathan said, brown eyes twinkling through his lenses.

We got in the car, and I fiddled with the new phone Nathan had gotten me while he adjusted things like his seat back and the radio.

To my surprise, he didn't immediately put on whatever station he wanted or connect it to his phone for whatever he was in the mood for.

It was funny, but in the time we'd spent together, neither of us had really put on much in the way of music.

"What kind of music do you like?" he asked.

I blinked. "What?"

Nathan frowned. "It's a simple question. I realized I don't know, other than your dad's interest in Billy Joel." He tapped on the car's audio interface. "Just picking some driving music. Unless you'd prefer silence, in which case I'll listen to an audiobook on my headphones. I don't want to fall asleep at the wheel."

For some reason, I could barely speak. "I—you want to know what kind of music I like?"

Nathan peered at me curiously. "What's that look?"

I swallowed my shock. "I—it's surprise. A weird, unexpected type of surprise."

"You're surprised I care about your musical taste?" He frowned again. God, he was cute when he did that. "Isn't that something a good boyfriend should do?"

My surprise faded. And eventually, I found myself smiling again. So hard my cheeks hurt, and my chest hurt, and I could barely think, I was so happy. So, instead of speaking, I undid my seatbelt and crawled over the console into his lap, eager to convey with kisses what I couldn't quite put into words.

"Yes," I told him after I finished sucking on his bottom lip hard enough to make him groan. "It's what a very good boyfriend should do. I guess I shouldn't be surprised at all, since you are the best."

That dimple appeared again. I licked it, just because I could. And then lost my breath when Nathan kissed me again.

When he was finished, he looked up at me, his question still in his deep brown eyes. "Well? What do you want to hear?"

I bit my lip. "I don't know. What would you pick?"

Was this what it felt like to want to please someone more than yourself?

Nathan shrugged. "Like I said, probably an audiobook for a drive like this. When I'm in surgery, I have a classic rock playlist. I like Fleetwood Mac. Some Steely Dan."

I cringed. I couldn't help it. "I…I mean, those are all right, I guess. It's probably more stuff my dad would have listened to. I would guess, anyway. My brother says he liked some hip hop too, but?—"

"Joni," Nathan interrupted as gently as I could.

I stopped babbling, cheeks heated. "Sorry."

He cupped my face and smiled. "It's all right. You can tell me more about your dad if you want, but I want to get on the road. So…music or not?"

I tipped my head. "Everyone likes Adele."

Nathan's chuckle warmed my very soul. "But do you?"

Just the way I was. It was in everything he said. Even now.

"Not really," I admitted as I slid off his lap and into my seat. "I'm more of a Rihanna fan, honestly, but I don't really feel like a power ballad right now. How about Drake?"

Nathan shook my head. "Not my favorite. Kendrick Lamar?"

At that, I grinned all over again. Compromise. Of course. "Now we're talking. I have a playlist you're going to love."

He started the car while I connected my phone to the stereo. But before he backed out, Nathan turned to me once again. "Before we leave, I do have another question to ask you. A more serious one."

"What's that?"

"When I buy the new house in Westchester, will you be my roommate there too? Actually, will you still be my girlfriend who lives with me? For real, this time? Not fake?"

I turned, wondering if he was actually serious.

But the twitch in his mouth told me different.

A joke.

Nathan Hunt was telling me another joke.

And my God, it made me love him even more.

"I'll be whatever you want me to be," I told him as I pressed my lips to his. "Just as long as we can be those things together."

Nathan kissed me back, giving me one of his patented whole-hearted, forceful-yet-gentle, just-like-the-first-time kisses that stole my heart completely. It wasn't a kiss that negated the sadness I knew would hang over me like a shroud for a long time to come. But it told me he was there with me, ready to steal that sadness away for a moment or two anytime I needed.

Like a pirate. Or a surgeon. A roommate. A boyfriend. Maybe even one day a husband.

But none of it mattered now.

He was just Nathan. And with him, I was just Joni. Together, we were perfect.

"What about fiancée?" he murmured against my lips. "Do you think you could be that one day too?"

I couldn't hide my smile. I found I didn't want to. "Maybe one day. When we're ready."

Nathan nodded, though his dimple didn't disappear as he started driving. And didn't for a long time.

"We should start another list," he said sometime later as he turned onto a freeway heading north. He pulled out the little black notebook that was always in his jacket pocket. A new one, I realized. The old one was probably at the bottom of the Atlantic.

He opened to a new page and balanced it on the steering wheel so he could write across the top:

HOW TO BE A GOOD FIANCé

I took the book, looked at the title, and thought for a moment before I scribbled down something and handed it back to him.

"That was quick."

"I only had one thing to add."

Nathan looked down at rest the list as I'd written it. It only had one item.

HOW TO BE A GOOD FIANCé How NATHAN Can Be A Good Fiancé

1. Just be your incredibul self and remember: your one-day wife-to-be loves you just the way you are.