Nash (Marked Men #4)(59)

“I’ve never been ice skating with a girl before.”

That made goose bumps run up and down my arms. He had been the first for me in so many ways, I never really thought I could return that for him.

“Good.”

I glided next to him and watched him out of the corner of my eye. Some of the tension that had been around his mouth and some of the darkness in his gaze had lightened.

“You know you can talk to me about it, right? About what went down with your mom today?”

I was doing a pretty good job at keeping him and this thing between us within boundaries I was comfortable with, but I didn’t want him to think that if he needed me to listen I wasn’t willing to do that. Sure, we had some killer sexual chemistry and a really intimate draw that pulled us together, but we also needed to like each other enough to share things with one another if we were going to keep hanging out.

His thumb traced over the back of my hand and I stumbled a little, almost taking us both down to the hard surface of the ice. He was just so good at being distracting.

“Nothing to talk about. She’s just as unpleasant as she always was, which makes me feel awful every time I talk to her. I left today knowing pretty much that I’m done with her. She’s not my family, she never was.”

I sucked in a breath and due to the cold air, it made my teeth hurt.

“That’s really sad.”

“I guess. It’s just the way it is.”

I had a fair amount of resentment built up at my dad, considering the way he had acted and the way he had chosen to leave my mom. But even though I didn’t approve, didn’t appreciate the drama and heartache he had caused, I couldn’t imagine just walking away from him forever. Couldn’t see myself ever just declaring that he was no longer a part of my life or my family. My insides twisted at the fact Nash had to make that kind of call on top of dealing with his father being so ill.

I squealed in surprise as the big body next to mine suddenly pitched forward and went down in a spectacular splay of strong arms and legs. Nash managed to turn before he hit the ice and I ended up hitting his chest with a thump that knocked the wind out of the both of us. He wrapped his arms around my waist and shook with silent laughter.

“Okay, Saint, you win. This is ridiculous. I can’t stay pissed off when my ass is broken.”

I rubbed my cold nose along the edge of his jaw.

“Well, I am a nurse. When we get home I can take care of all your boo-boos in the best way possible.”

I heard him sigh.

“Can you do it naked?”

I laughed because he was such a guy, and when I told him of course I could do it naked, that meant our time on the ice was over. It was nice, made me feel good about myself and about the way I was with him, that not only had I shaken off his dour mood, but I managed to make him laugh and take his mind somewhere else. I wanted to think that not anyone would’ve been able to achieve that, and when we got to the apartment and he proceeded to get us both very naked and very much into the best mood possible, I had to wonder if being with me like that was as special and different for him as being with him was for me. It sure felt that way.

The next morning I was standing in the little kitchen in my apartment making coffee and finger-combing my still-shower-wet hair. I was feeling pretty mellow, pretty languid and satisfied, because I hadn’t been in the shower alone and was still basking in the after-orgasm glow when the front door swung open and my sister came flying in unannounced. She looked harassed and stressed out, tired and so very pregnant. She didn’t have any of the kids with her and there was a high flush in her cheeks.

“Mom just called me.” She stomped across the living room and I shot a nervous gaze to the back room, where I had left Nash getting dressed with the promise of having coffee waiting for him when he was done. I didn’t want Faith to see him here, didn’t want to try and figure out how to explain what I was doing with him, because I didn’t really know and words had never been my strong suit.

“Okay. Is something wrong?”

She huffed out an aggravated breath and plopped her round form in one of the chairs at my little dining table.

“She’s moving.”

I adjusted my robe and kept an eye on the hallway.

“Okay.” I should’ve been asking where Mom was going, but I was too concerned about Nash popping around the corner in all his naked and tattooed glory to focus properly on what my sister was saying.

Faith shot me a dirty look and shoved her hands through the front of her hair. “What do you mean, ‘okay’? She’s leaving Colorado. Is that still okay?”

“I mean she’s an adult and has been acting like a lunatic for two years. Maybe getting away from Brookside, away from where she can run into Dad and any reminders that he moved on, is what’s best for her.”

“But we’re here. The kids are here. She shouldn’t have to pick up and move her entire life to another state … Dad should. He’s the one who messed up.”

She was right. Dad had messed up, the blame for the way our family was divided did fall squarely on his shoulders. Mom would’ve never gone so bonkers, acted so drastically, if he hadn’t sent her into a tailspin. But in all honesty, I was proud of Mom for taking a stand, for taking the reins back in her life and doing something for herself. Blaming Dad for being a jerk, not getting over the fact he had a wandering eye, wasn’t going to put Mom back to sorts, but I really thought a change of scenery and some room to breathe might. It had done wonders for me when I needed it most after high school. Faith was right that Mom shouldn’t have to move, but the fact that she was willing to finally be accountable for some of her actions made me happy inside. This was just the way our family looked now and both of us were going to have to live with it. And trying to tell Faith that she would feel the same way about Dad moving, that he also would miss out on spending time with us, with her kids, was just going to have to wait because I heard movement from the bedroom.