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Nico

I’ve died and gone to heaven. Angels are prancing around on my back and shoulders, and I swear I feel my muscles shriek in delight when a strong set of hands travel down from my shoulder blades and rub at the knot just above my butt.

“Oh heaven help me, that feels great.”

Liesel, the goddess who’s been with me since I walked into the spa, chuckles huskily and keeps up her magic, rendering me to nothing more than a blissed out puddle of goo beneath her kneading mitts.

“You’re wound tight as a spring, little lady. Tell Doc Liesel what ails you.”

Besides another sleepless night and the almost irresistible urge to strip naked and fling myself at Law for another round of bone melting pleasure?

Try the fact that I spent the other half of my night feeling an extra-strong wave of guilt about keeping him in the dark about Cody. So yeah, this is not something that I want to share with “Doc Liesel” no matter how divine her hands are.

“Nothing. Just missing my kid and wondering how I’m gonna make rent and school tuition at the end of the month since I missed a meeting with my bank manager to come on this God forsaken trip.”

Her palms dig deeper at my shoulder blades, and I let off a renewed groan.

“Tell me.”

For some reason, maybe because my brain is turning to mush along with my muscles, I start telling her everything. At one point her hands leave my skin, but they return seconds later, stronger and definitely more assured.

“I’ve got a pretty good job that pays me really well but my son, Cody, is in a private school for gifted young minds and that is just…exorbitant. Add to that the fact that I have to pay rent, buy food, and I only just finished paying off the loan I took to pay for my husband’s funeral.”

Her fingers dig deeper, going a little too hard, and I squeak out a protest.

“Too hard.”

“Hmmm.”

Relaxing back beneath her gentling hands, I take a deep breath and try to remember what I was saying.

“And then there’s Jude. She’s this really cool old broad who looks after Cody when school gets out. I pay her less than I should but really more than I can safely afford. If I didn’t, she’d probably end up in some old age home since her kids don’t care one way or the other.”

Liesel keeps kneading, and I spill my whole story about how Brody died and left me alone with a one-year-old baby and debt that I had to pay. (I still adore the guy, but his wardrobe came at a high cost to his grieving widow and the baby I had to care for.)

I don’t tell her the whole sordid mess about Cody’s father, or even that it took me almost two years and Brody’s strong-armed support to keep me going.

But I do for some inexplicable reason spill about Law and his tricky hands. And mouth. And the way I’m losing sleep because of his damned flirting.

When my skin starts tingling and I start feeling a spurt of something scarily close to arousal, I tense and become still, feeling so mortified that I can’t speak for a full minute.

Getting turned on by a female? Oh Lord above, if this is what happens every time I talk about that man, I’m going to have to go to a hypnotherapist to get him out of my head.

“Er, Liesel? Um, that’s, uh, fine. I think…” Swallow. “I…my muscles are fine now!”

A deep masculine chuckle greets my ears, and I feel a hand smooth over my ass—where the heck is my towel!—before I can so much as move.

“Relax, babe.”

“Law! Stop it. No, no don’t do that. Get your hand off my…aaaahhh.”

Another chuckle follows, and I feel his hands cup my ass and start a squeezing rhythm that has my mind blinking on and off. Who knew you could carry that much tension in your butt?

“Laaaw, you need to stop.”

Please, don’t stop. Please keep touching my butt as if it’s a prize-winning pie and you want it bad.

I keep telling the hussy in my head to shut her mouth and be sensible, but it’s been so long since I felt anything but pressure and exhaustion that I can’t help but moan and push up into his hands.

“Sooo, you’re not doing so well. Want to tell me why you’re struggling when you could just tell Dad and get a raise?” he asks.

The question banishes any and all relaxation, and I shove off the table, realizing too late that I’m buck-ass naked and putting on a good show for Law.

Too late to dive for cover now, so I just stand there, loud and proud—or as proud as I can be knowing that I’m a few pounds shy of slim and my boobs are less perky than they used to be.

“That’s none of your business, Lawson James.”

His eyes never leave mine though I can see how he’s struggling not to stare at my wares. That’s pretty nice of him—if I do say so myself—but nowhere near as nice as it is when he silently passes me a robe and waits for me to cover up.

“Nic.”

“Law. Please. You weren’t supposed to be here, and don’t even get me started on how pissed off I am that you fooled me that way. My problems are mine, and I don’t want to talk about them.”

This seems to frustrate him, and I watch a range of emotions play over his face before he sighs and meets my gaze.

“Just because you hate me—”

“I don’t. I never did,” I whisper, giving him and myself the truth for once. “I was angry for a long time, and it took me even longer to stop feeling hurt and numb about it all, but I had more to live for, and I finally just had to let it all go.”

“You don’t hate me?” he asks hesitantly, and I can see how important the answer is to him.

I could backpedal and spew a lot of garbage at him, nine months’ worth of resentment that I’d built up and lived off of before Cody came into the world and I fell so in love it was impossible to hate a man who shared half of my son’s DNA.

Add to that the fact that I am and will always be one of those sad women who falls in love once and never looks at another man ever again. No, I won’t love him again the
way
that I loved him in all my youthful glory, but I can’t deny that he will always hold a piece of me.

“No,” I finally whisper, smiling sadly at him. “I loved you too much once to ever truly hate you, Law. I just can’t ever feel that way again.”

Now I know Law; he’s the type who hates to lose, and to him, not having every piece of a person can be considered a loss. I expect him to get angry at my statement, maybe pull me close and kiss the daylights out of me. Definitely a scowl, or something to show his annoyance.

Instead, I get a dazzling smile and two dimples that remind me so much of Cody that I feel my heart throb.

“I can so work with that, babe. Come on. Let’s go get you changed. We’re having lunch at the bar, and then I want to hear about that meeting you were going to have with your bank manager.”

“Law.”

God, I should have known the guy won’t quit.

Law

She’s struggling to hold onto her composure, and I hate that a part of that struggle comes from my knowing that she’s in financial trouble and working her ass off just to make ends meet.

Nic earns a good chunk of change as VP, so I know that my dad isn’t exactly making her slave for every penny, but like she’d confessed to ‘Liesel’ while I rubbed her sexy body down…it adds up…schooling and rent, not to mention just getting clear of debt.

Odds are good that if my girl was willing to go to the bank and take out a loan at an exorbitant interest rate, especially in today’s economy, she’s more than struggling.

Nic is a smart and sensible woman, and I have every faith in her that she’s not spending her money on crap. No, she’d take care of the necessaries and make sure her kid is taken care of before she even considered herself.

Shit, she’s even paying an old lady to be Cody’s nanny because she loves the old bird. But that’s just Nic. She’s a nurturer. She loves taking care of people and making sure they’re happy.

Once upon a time she’d taken care of me too, a lot of the time doing her best to get me out of the funk I was in after an injury officially killed my impending pro-hockey career.

Yeah, my girl is a good one, and I have every intention of getting her back so she can shine some of that light on me. Only this time I intend to give back, and if I have my say about it, I’ll be taking care of her and removing all her worries for the rest of her life.

“So you were going to tell me about that meeting with your bank manager,” I prompt once we’re sitting at the bar with fruity cocktails and our food has been ordered.

She gives me a long-suffering sigh and starts playing with the pink umbrella in her glass as she starts talking.

“My husband was a great guy, but he was definitely a metrosexual who loved fashion and had a closet that would rival Oprah’s.”

As a man who had to hire a stylist because I really don’t give much of a crap about what I’m wearing, I can’t relate or make any sort of constructive comment, so I hold my tongue and wait for her to continue.

“Don’t misunderstand me; Brody never took money from me and he was a good provider,” she rushes to say, her reminiscent smile turning the screws deeper.

“But.”

“But he liked to shop, and when he just died…he left me holding the bag. I had a one-year-old baby to care for, a full-time job, rent, and then all this debt—that was quite shockingly a lot.”

The thought of her grieving and having to juggle it all leaves me furious at this guy. What sort of real man doesn’t make provisions for his wife and child?

If it had been me, I would have ensured that not only would all expenses have been taken care of but my wife and kid would have been taken care of for the rest of their lives.

But it wasn’t me. Because I hadn’t been there.

I’d felt restless and afraid of the looming future—of growing up and joining Dad in the company. Instead of being a man, I’d run like a coward.

Fuuuck.

I definitely have no room to judge this guy, but that doesn’t make the anger and resentment I feel for the guy any less.

“How much is a lot?” I ask when the server places our plates down and leaves us alone again.

Nic takes another long sip of her drink before turning to me with a tired sigh. “Almost a hundred and ten grand.”

“Jesus!”

She snorts and starts eating her lobster salad.

“You can say that again. It wasn’t too bad at first because Cody was still a baby, and like I said, my salary was good. But then Cody started hitting milestones way too early, and his playgroup teacher brought it to my attention. By the time he was two, he was writing his alphabet and holding full conversations with people. I had to move him to a more advanced group and the costs…”

Yeah, I can well-believe that having a genus kid would hit her pocket hard.

“So what? You had to throttle back on payments?”

“Yup. Instead of using a big chunk of my check to get it all paid, I made payment arrangements with his creditors. Of course, that tacked on a boatload of interest, too, so…let’s just say that last month’s last payments hit well over the hundred and thirty mark.”

That’s understandable. The slower you pay, the more you pay, and that’s not even considering that bastard known as compound interest.

“You’re done then?”

“Yeah, but I’ve juggled so much that now that I have to catch up with a lot of other stuff and…I just wanted a loan so that I can clear things away and only have one debt in my name,” she says and sighs.

She’s not too happy right now, but at least she’s eating, and enjoying it from the looks of her already half-eaten salad. I’d almost forgotten that my girl is in love with lobster, a meal I doubt she’s enjoyed in a really long time.

A meal I will provide for her three times a fucking day if that’s what she needs to put a smile back on her face.

I don’t say anything more or ask the host of questions running through my head because it’s all moot at this point. Come tomorrow morning, Nic won’t have a penny of debt left in her name.

I’m taking it all on and clearing her plate.

That’s what a real man does for his family, and now that I’ve found the family I want, that is the very least of what I’ll do to give them the life I should have given her ten years ago.

******************************************************************

“Hey Law? What should I do with these ugly ass ponchos?”

I hold up a hand to cut Nic off and continue listening to what Dad’s saying.

“I took care of everything and even settled the tuition for the rest of the school year. That huge ass mortgage her late husband got on their apartment is all that needs to be taken care of now. Swear to God, why people think it’s smarter not to go for fixed interest is beyond me.”

I hear you old man.

“Leave that last one, Pop. It won’t be necessary for much longer if I have my way.”

Yeah, because if I have my way, Nic and her boy will be moving into my wing of the sprawling mansion and staying there for the next fifty years or more.

I definitely don’t want her and the kid living in an apartment that was stamped by another man, and I definitely will not be visiting my girl there and fucking her in her dead husband’s linens.

Naw, I’m a territorial, possessive asshole, so I want her in my bed, wrapped in my thousand-thread-count sheets, smelling like me and only me.

It’s irrational since her husband has been dead a long time, but that’s not seeming to make a whole lot of a difference at all. I want to provide everything they need and that starts with where they live and eat their meals.

“Law, son, I think you should slow down for a minute and consider that maybe Nico won’t be very accepting of this take-charge attitude you’ve got going. You’re moving at the speed of light.”

Once again his tone and the fact that he doesn’t seem to trust my intentions has my hackles rising, and I
just
refrain from spitting out a curse.

Part of me understands that I haven’t exactly fostered a spirit of trust in those I love, but for fuck’s sake, can’t a man change?

“Look, Dad, I know you don’t trust me—”

“I do, son. Believe me, I do, but your actions in the past have left a lot of shit behind in your dust, and I can’t say I blame Nico for her attitude all these years. I won’t lie and sugarcoat that just to make you feel better.”

“What are you talking about?”

The way he’s talking is confusing—and has nothing to do with my future plans. Sure, I’m not winning any awards for the crap I’d pulled, but Nic has no reason to hold anything against me anymore because I’m going to make up for it, and he knows that.

I hear a sigh.

“Give the phone to Nic.”

“What? Why? Don’t go sabotaging me—”

“Shut up and give her the phone, boy. I’m about to do you the biggest favor in the world. Remember to thank me when you get home.”

I just grumble and wave her over, holding the phone out and shrugging when she looks at me askance.

About a minute into the one-sided conversation, I see her go pale and look over at me before she’s nodding and whispering into the phone. I can’t hear a word, but something about the tense set of her shoulders and the way she keeps glancing at me guiltily makes my gut clench.

Another few nods and stuttered breaths later and she disconnects the call and hands the phone back.

“Jack said to tell you that you should shut up and listen.”

I grin and cock a brow in inquiry, but she just shakes her head and goes back to cataloguing and inventorying the clothes.

“Later. We need to talk later.”