8. Nick

CHAPTER 8

NICK

When I think of you, it makes me smile. When I’m with you, you touch my heart. We’re in our own little world together and I never want to leave it. - Clara

Sasha was brilliant. This rocking chair was comfortable, and the view from my porch was spectacular.

I felt like shit for how I’d behaved. Morgan knew how to get under my skin, and she’d been in rare form today. I shut down so I wouldn’t fall into our usual argument over her disapproval of my career choice. It wasn’t fair to Clara. I’d acted like an ass. And oh my god, I was so damn tired.

I’d never seen her angry like that before and I was only slightly ashamed that I found it hot. She had always been sarcastic and mouthy when she was mad, but it had never been directed at me. And before, she had an underlying sorrow and vulnerability I had always done my best to protect. Now that she was just pissed, it was sexy as hell. The years had made her strong. She was bold, she was beautiful, and she’d stuck up for me even though we had yet to clear the air between us.

I wanted to know her again. I wanted to know everything that had put that glint of steel in her eyes.

I would figure out how to make it up to her. And I would find a way to make her talk to me about our past too.

After that, who knew? If the feelings she aroused in me were any indicator, we’d end up being a lot more than neighbors.

Did I want another chance with her?

Maybe? Probably.

Okay, yes, I did. But I was nowhere near ready to face the reality of it, of how it would feel to have her be part of my life again. At least not now, when it was so obvious there was some kind of misunderstanding between us. But I had time, proximity, and chemistry on my side. I knew I could fix whatever it was.

She was hurt about the past but interested in me at the same time—that much was clear.

Our almost-kiss this morning on her balcony and the soft press of her body against my arm when Morgan was giving me shit told that tale. She could have stepped in with Morgan without moving so close to me. She didn’t need to get physical to defend my honor. And why had she bothered to defend me at all?

Even if I didn’t get a chance to be with her again, I’d fix it. She had meant the world to me. I had loved her more than anything, and I didn’t want her to think what we’d had together wasn’t real. Because it was, she was everything to me when I had needed her the most. I was lost after my dad died, and Clara had been the one to pull me through it. I sat rocking in the chair, remembering many of the small moments we shared.

I must have fallen asleep, because my text notification went off, waking me from my slumber. I sat forward to pull out my cell, heaving out a sigh when I saw it was Morgan.

MORGAN: I’m so sorry for being such a bitch to you. The wedding plans are overwhelming me and I’m exhausted. I got into it with Mal this morning and I took it out on you. I was horrible. Forgive me?

NICK: I know you’re stressed out. Sasha told me. I get it. It’s okay.

MORGAN: I’m sorry about being rude to your . . . girlfriend? Or is it too soon for labels? Clara, right?

NICK: Yep

MORGAN: Tell her I’m sorry, and don’t forget we agreed to keep our dating lives away from the kids unless it’s serious. Okay?

NICK: Will do. I won’t forget.

MORGAN: I mean, bring her to the wedding, of course. But tell the kids it’s a friend/neighbor thing unless/if you get serious about her and you know it’s going somewhere. Are you two serious?

NICK: Don’t worry.

MORGAN: Again. I feel terrible. Should I send her flowers or a plant? A bottle of wine?

I glanced at the collection of lush greenery on her porch and throughout her yard. She caught me looking so I gave her a wave.

NICK: Send a plant.

MORGAN: A plant it is. FYI, it’s date night. I’ll be incommunicado. The kids already know. Thanks again for keeping them during my time.

NICK: Yep

The slam of Clara’s front door sent a smile unfurling across my face. For the first time in years I felt alive. Anticipation sparked inside me—for what, I didn’t know, but I couldn’t wait to find out.

Maybe I should just ask her out, take her on a date like nothing had happened to make her leave me all those years ago. I didn’t even care what it was anymore. We were young, she had to have been scared. I could forgive her for anything. I wanted her in my life again, that much was clear to me. She didn’t want to talk about what had happened between us, that much had also been made clear—abundantly.

Was moving forward without looking back possible?

My lips shifted into a grin as a truck from the local nursery parked in my driveway and the driver began filling a small dolly with a bunch of plants that could have only come from one person.

“Afternoon,” he greeted. “Sasha Easton live here?”

“Yup.”

“Dad! We get to stay with you extra days!” I smiled as Ethan hauled ass up the street, followed by Sasha who also began running once she caught sight of the plants being delivered.

She gasped, “Is that all for me?”

“Are you Sasha Easton?” the delivery driver asked with a smile.

“Yes!” she squealed.

“Then yes, little lady, these are for you.”

“This is so awesome!” She tossed her backpack on the lawn and helped him carry the plants to the grassy area in front of the porch.

“Can we get pizza for dinner?” Ethan sank onto the padded wicker sofa adjacent to my rocker. “I’m so happy it’s Friday. I’m going to sleep all day tomorrow.”

“You and me both. And yes to pizza.” Pizza meant no cooking, which also meant no cleaning up after dinner—which I was a huge fan of, especially on the weekends.

Why were Fridays always so exhausting?

My phone went off again. It was my mother. Great.

“Go inside, y’all. We’ll sort all of this out later.”

The delivery driver took off with a wave, the kids ran inside, and I swiped to answer the call. “Nicky! I’m calling to see how the kids’ first day of school went.”

“You’re a bit late for that, Mom.”

“I’m at the house in Hawaii. Island time has me all out of sorts. You know how I get.”

“It’s okay. I know.” But I didn’t really know. I didn’t know her anymore.

We were probably seventy percent no contact by now. Then she’d call me or send gifts to the kids, and I’d feel bad about never talking to her. We’d find a time to have dinner and fight about me being a teacher and divorcing Morgan, only to rinse and repeat the cycle a few months later. It was exhausting.

My therapist called it a soft boundary. I’d checked out of my relationship with her and had no expectations left. I should cut off contact completely, but it was hard to let go of that shred of hope, no matter how small it now was. I was still holding on to the idea that someday she would change back to the way she’d been when my dad was alive.

“So, I won’t keep you. Tell the kids hi for me, or should I call Morgan at her place? Is it her week with the kids?”

“No—”

“Why you’d want to get a divorce from a woman like her is beyond me. She comes from a wonderful family, she’s educated, goal oriented, has a good job . . . It’s never too late for a second chance, Nicky⁠—”

“We were never right for each other, you know that. I told you everything after we got the divorce. We wanted different things out of life⁠—”

“She’s beautiful, Nicky. You could have given her everything she wanted. You still can, if you’d quit being so stubborn and take the job with your stepfather. Phil says it’s yours whenever you decide to give your children what they deserve. Think of how you’ll be able to pay for their college when the time comes. Think of their future⁠—”

“Is there anything else you needed? I’ll give the kids your regards.”

She let out a beleaguered sigh, as if every word out of her mouth wasn’t an insult to me and everything I’d chosen to do with my life. “Yes, honey. Sam is heading to Green Valley sometime around Thanksgiving week to open the Bandit Lake house up and get everything ready before we come back to town for Christmas. Invite him for dinner, will you? I don’t want him to be alone on the holiday and I want you to talk to him about his troubles with Ivy. It isn’t looking good for his marriage, Nick. We can’t have another divorce in the family. What will people think?”

“Sure thing. I’ll talk to him.” My older brother had used every advantage my stepfather had offered him. I didn’t hold it against him, but we were no longer as close as we had been before our father died. And as for his marriage? From what I could tell, he was as happy with his wife as I’d been with mine. If they ended up divorcing, it wouldn’t be a surprise.

Sam worked for my stepfather. He vacationed with him and my mother, too. In fact, he was in Hawaii with them right now. If my mother had accepted my choices without badgering and pushing me to do what she wanted, we’d all probably still be close.

“Talk soon, darling.” She hung up before I could tell her goodbye or that I loved her, or any of the other things we would have said to each other before my father died and she had traded up. The fact that she didn’t ask to talk to the kids had not escaped me; it never did.

Sasha, dressed in her bathing suit, poked her head out the front door. “Dad! Let’s go swimming! Come on!”

“Be there in a minute. Wait for me to get back there before you get in the pool.”

“I know!” she hollered.

I didn’t need to take a job with my stepfather to take care of my kids and I’d never trade my integrity for a few bucks.

Being a teacher was what my dad had always wanted to do, but he went to work at the Payton Mill straight out of high school and never got to live out his dream. He transferred that dream to me through our shared love of literature. Our trailer had always been full of books, full of imagination, full of love.

A car accident took his life when I was in high school. It also took my mother’s peace of mind. Over the years, I had forgiven a lot when it came to her. She had been left alone with two teenage boys to support on her secretary’s salary. I could hardly blame her when she remarried right away. Phil was her boss and had been infatuated with her for years. He wasted no time; he asked her out a few months after the funeral, proposed not long after that, she’d said yes, and life as we’d known it had ended.

After changing into my swim trunks, I found Sasha and Ethan out back. “Cannonball!” I ran around them and jumped into the pool with a huge splash.

“Throw me!” Ethan yelled as he jumped into the pool to land next to me.

I grinned and grabbed him under the arms to throw him into the deep end, glad that at almost thirteen, he wasn’t too cool to still have fun with his dad.

“Do not get my hair wet,” Sasha told us. She was lounging on a huge pink floatie with a Dr Pepper in her hand. “I’m not in the playing mood today. School is exhausting and I’m tired. I want to float.”

“You heard her, Eath. Don’t even think about splashing her. What are the rules of the pool?”

“Um, don’t go in without you and don’t be a jerk,” he answered. “Oh! Hey, Miss Clara, come over and swim with us!”

I almost drowned myself spinning around to find her on the other side of the fence, watering the multitude of plants she had on her back deck.

“I’m good over here, sweetheart, but thank you.”

“We have more floaties and Dr Peppers,” Sasha informed her. “I can get you one. It’s nice and cool in here and I need you to tell me how to take care of all those pretty plants you sent me. I also need to say thank you.”

“You’re welcome, honey. I’m happy you like them.”

It was hot out—one of those sunny, late-summer Tennessee days where all you wanted to do was jump in a pool or relax inside with the AC running. Not putter around the yard with a watering can. A droplet of sweat trickled down her temple and she bit her lip.

“Come on over, Clara. My pool is your pool. Ethan, run inside and grab Miss Clara a Diet Coke with way too much ice and a slice of lemon from the fridge. Grab me one too, while you’re in there.”

Clara’s eyebrows shot up. Yeah, I remembered what she liked to drink because we had always liked a lot of the same things.

“Just like you, huh, Dad? How interesting.” Sasha sent me a smirk from her floatie. “Come on, Miss Clara, you have to at least tell me about that one with the shiny pink and green leaves. Please?”

I could almost see Clara’s wheels turning as she struggled for an answer. “The rex begonia. It’s one of my favorites. You know what? I think I will join you and we can talk plants. It’s so dang hot today.” She set the watering can down. “I’ll go change.”

Ethan ran into the house for the drinks, and I floated on my back, doing my best to avoid looking at a smug Sasha.

“You like her, Dad. Don’t bother telling me you don’t, because then you’ll have to ground yourself for lying, right?”

I dove under the water and swam across the pool to the deep end, chagrined because my eleven-year-old daughter had my number and I didn’t know how to deny my feelings for Clara without looking like an ass or a liar.

I popped up in time to watch Clara gingerly open the side gate and tiptoe rapidly across the hot cement. My eyes bulged as they traveled up her long, slim legs, over the deep swell of her hips, up her taut stomach, and across her gorgeous tits to end up on her stunning face. Her bathing suit was a modest one-piece—deep purple with white trim—but it did nothing to prevent my mind from running wild. Not when I knew the stunning paradise under it. I’d touched and tasted every square inch of her body inside and out and it was all I could do to keep my composure and prevent my dick from getting hard.

“I should have worn my flip-flops, y’all.” She rushed to the steps at the shallow end and sat on the first one. “Much better.”

“I’ll get you a floatie.” Sasha climbed out and headed to the small shed at the side of the house where I kept the pool supplies.

“Got your pants caught on your pitchfork a bit, didn’t you?” I decided to tease her. Flirting was out of the question and reminiscing was dangerous.

She rolled her eyes and waded into the shallow end. “I have no idea what you mean. And in case you didn’t notice, I’m not wearing pants right now.” She did a little jump before going under the water to swim up to my side with a smirk.

“Believe me, I noticed.” I mock-glared at her through squinted eyes. “You wanted me to have to figure out how to deal with that jungle you bought for Sasha on my porch. But you can’t help yourself. You’re stepping in.”

“Whatever. Sasha is a nice kid. I don’t really mind.” She backstroked away from me. “The water feels so good. Thanks, Nick.”

“Anytime. I’m sorry. About before, I mean. I was a jerk.”

“Eh, I guess it’s okay. We’ll call it a truce for now. This dip in your pool makes up for a lot. Being around an ex can be stressful, right?”

I let out a laugh. “Right.”

She was in my pool, and she had a smile on her face—but I couldn’t help but think this truce was temporary.