Chapter 32

“What is he like?” She couldn’t believe there was this whole aspect of Nick’s life she knew nothing about. What else was there about him she didn’t know? Had she spent so much time focused on herself she never bothered to find out?

Ouch. The leaf she needed to turn over kept getting bigger.

“Let’s see. Rock musician, heavy drinker, no college, no plans to settle, no financial sense, no discrimination where it comes to women. Shall I go on?”

“He sounds a mess.” She tried not to think how he sounded exactly her type. No, her old type. “Why is he coming to visit? Where does he live?”

“Glemdale. He’s here for a gig at Shank Hall with his band, Imploding Bovines.”

“Imploding…Never mind.” She blew her bangs out of her eyes, getting winded, and embarrassed to admit it with Nick next to her not even breathing hard. “What’s his name?”

“Born Frank, now goes by Stoner.” Nick reached to turn her handlebars; the hydro-bike veered to face the sparkling expanse of the lake beyond their lagoon. “Look at that. Perfect day.”

“It is.” She allowed the abrupt change of subject, understanding that if he hadn’t mentioned Stoner in the two years she’d known him, Nick had a good reason for avoiding the subject of his brother. She wasn’t often anxious to dish about Mom, either.

“I’m glad you made me do this, Michelle. It’s fun being out here with you.”

“It’s fun being anywhere with you, Nick. You always make me feel so good.” She stole a glance and found him staring out into the lake toward the invisible border. His plain face had never looked sweeter or more dear to her. “I know I’ve said this before, but I hope Emma knows how lucky she is.”

“I’m lucky to have her, too.” He met her eyes. His were so blue and sincere, hair blown away from his forehead, skin clear bronze, chin strong; he looked nearly handsome. “But I’m also really lucky to have you.”

Michelle froze, half in delight, half in unexplainable fear. “Me?”

“Emma is the greatest, but she can’t give me everything. Her needs are…simple, and mine are more complicated. It’s really good to have you in my life, as well.”

Michelle blinked away sudden tears and tried to smile. The sun was shining, breezes came softly off the lake. Her best buddy was paying tribute to their strong friendship. She had nothing to be crying over.

“If you leave yourself open, if you let yourself look with other than your eyes and your hormones, you will find someone worthy of you.” His voice was low and sensual, very un-Nick-like. “He may be closer than you think.”

For one very odd moment, Michelle had the impression that he was talking about himself. A certain look in his eyes, was it a trick of the sun? Nick couldn’t possibly…Emma was everything to him. But Michelle would swear he was hinting… Oh, this was unbelievably awkward.

Nick? She loved him but she could never. He was so… He was so sweet and thoughtful, and supportive and caring and intelligent and funny and trustworthy, therefore someone she would never fall for in a million years, even if he was available. It just freaking figured.

“Thank you, Nick. I so appreciate your faith in me.” She wanted to roll her eyes. I so appreciate your faith in me? Already he was pulling back, the light fading from his eyes.

“Should we go back?”

She nodded into the tension, trying to pretend everything was still normal between them, that she’d imagined what he was trying to say, that her reliable instinct had misfired big-time. She couldn’t let anything hurt their friendship. She depended on him for so many things—laughter, great companionship, a sense of fun… All the things she always said she wanted in a man. Sitting right there beside her in yet another surprise package she had no interest in opening.

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Candace woke up with a sinking feeling that something was wrong. She stared at the ceiling, at the window. Beautiful sunny day again; what was the problem? Nolan? Michelle? What was today? Tuesday. Hurricane day.

She wished she’d gone with her instincts and traveled down to Rosehill. It was horrible being here unable to help, knowing Gran and Grandad were in danger and probably afraid. The hurricane had made a slow, steady track directly for Langford, in the center of the state, then suddenly veered north, staying a Category Two. But when Candace had spoken to Gran and Grandad the previous evening, it had already started raining, winds were up, there were reports of an extended storm surge at the coast, and it was still hours until the official landfall.

There was nothing worse than having to worry about loved ones in a situation she couldn’t control. How often had she and Michelle lain in Candace’s twin bed in their two-bedroom apartment, wondering where their mother was, when she’d be coming back. Whether she was getting herself in trouble, drinking too much, being taken advantage of by some jerk. Whether that jerk would come home with her and live with them for a while, whether he’d be nice to them or bring creepy friends around who ate, smoke or snorted various substances and were generally terrifying.

A knock sounded at her door; Candace struggled up on her elbows. “Yes?”

“Are you decent?” Nolan's deep voice.

“Sort of.” Her blush was starting already, as was the adrenaline rush that leapt into action. He’d been gone a good part of yesterday—which gave Candace plenty of time to make minor repairs Michelle had neglected, and to clean more—but he’d come back to help haul stuff to Goodwill that Michelle had tossed into the basement rather than deal with. Candace had managed to avoid being in any intimate situations with him after dinner— and then was so tense and unsatisfied she’d had to take a sleeping pill in order to drop off. Sometimes she felt like a mental case.

“Can I come in?”

“I don’t—Yes, you can come in.”

The door swung open. The white corner of a lap desk appeared, then arms carrying it, then a body. A fabulous body in jeans and a blue-and-white-striped shirt. On the lap table, a dish covered with an inverted bowl, a bud vase with a pink rose from the garden. “Breakfast is served, Madam.”