For The Love Of Nick

“Maybe.”

“You can’t want to share my life. I don’t want to share my life.”

“I love you, Danielle.”

Her expression shuttered and she turned away. Walking to the window, she stared down at the gardens, so alive with color. “That’s ridiculous. You don’t know me.”

“I think I do,” he said evenly, which was difficult, as she’d cut him deep with her disbelief.

“Okay, then.” Danielle’s shoulders were stiff. So was her neck. Hell, her entire body felt so tight she was going to crack and fall apart, limb by limb. “I don’t know you.”

“Just because you feel like your back is up against the wall,” he said, more quietly now, “isn’t a reason to lie to me.”

She whipped back to face him, a hot retort on her lips, but it died when she saw that while his voice had sounded confident, he was far from sure of himself.

Above all else, his love for her was shining in his eyes. “Oh, Nick.”

His jaw tightened. “You’re thrilled.”

Terrified, more like. How could facing his love be harder than facing Ted’s hatred? “We lead very different lives.”

“So?”

“So…you’ve told me yourself, your job takes you far and wide. You’re rarely home.”

“And I’ve also told you, I’ve enjoyed this break. So much that I’m thinking a little lifestyle change wouldn’t be a bad thing. I can still write, Danielle, and not vanish for months at a time.” His gaze deepened. “If it’s permanence you’re looking for.”

“That’s just it. I don’t know what I’m looking for.” Liar, liar, pants on fire.

“Yes, you do. You just don’t want to admit it. God forbid you share yourself-”

“I’ve tried that, thank you very much!”

“Not with me, you haven’t.” His eyes were hot. “Don’t lump me in with him, Danielle.”

“It’s not that simple.”

“I’m tired of beating my head against the wall to get you to trust me. To want me.”

“I want you, Nick. That’s never been the problem.”

“I’d rather have your trust.”

Her ribs felt too tight. Her stomach hurt. She needed air, badly. “I don’t do trust.” She found her shoes, shoved them on.

“You do at night.”

Damn it, where was Sadie’s leash?

“You trust me when it’s dark,” he said behind her. “When you can fool yourself into believing it’s just sex, it’s just comfort, it’s just temporary.”

The leash was already on Sadie. Grabbing it, she faced Nick, seeing all his anger and hurt, which made her heart clench tighter.

“But it’s in the light of day that the challenge comes,” he guessed correctly. “Well, guess what, Danielle? I’m not like him, and I’m never going to be. I’m never going to shove you into some mold, force you to do things you don’t want to do. I’m not interested in changing you, or asking you to be someone you’re not. I want you, just as you are.” He put his hand over hers on the door handle. “But I won’t have you look at me with that look, the one that says you’re wondering how long before I show my true colors, the one that says that no matter how often you let me make love to you, you’re still going to hold back a portion of your heart.”

“Nick, stop. Please stop.” God, she had to think. Breathe. She hauled open the door.

Sadie whined, not happy with the tension, and Danielle gave a little tug on the leash. “Come.”

Sadie merely ducked her head and used her weight to tug back.

“Running, Danielle?” Nick asked while she played tug-of-war with the dog.

Damn him for not understanding. This wasn’t easy for her, it-

With another whine, Sadie sat on Nick’s feet.

“You’ve run before,” Nick noted, putting a hand on Sadie’s head. “Hasn’t worked for you yet. Why don’t you take a stand and work this out?”

Danielle glanced down at her dog, who-she couldn’t believe it-refused to budge.

“Go ahead,” Nick suggested. “Run. Keep on running. Don’t let me in. Don’t acknowledge how I feel for you. You’ll be happier that way. Right?”

What did he know about it? “Come on, Sadie.” She stepped outside the room, but Sadie didn’t.

“Leave her.” Nick’s eyes dared her. “If air is all you need.”

“You don’t even like her.”

His eyes roamed over her before he shook his head. “Still not seeing me, I see.”

She stared back at him, tough and tense. He thought he loved her. My God. Loved her. She couldn’t breathe again, and dropping the leash, she ran for the trails.

Alone.

As always, alone.

NICK LOOKED DOWN at Sadie.

From her perch on his feet-which were quickly losing circulation-she shot him a reproachful, hurt look, as if this mess was all his fault.

“Hey, you’re the one who decided to stay here,” he pointed out.

Sadie butted his stomach with her head, tilting her face up to blink huge, melting eyes at him.

“Oh, no. Don’t give me that. I’m second fiddle and I know it. You should have gone with her.”

Sadie let out a long sigh. A pathetic sigh. A poor-me sigh.

“Ah hell.” He shoved his fingers through his hair and crouched down. “You know I’ve grown stupidly attached, right? To the both of you?”

Sadie leaned on him, knocking him to his butt on the floor, and something inside him warmed slightly as she crawled into his lap. “Fine mess, huh?” he muttered, trying to be tough but it was hard with a hundred and fifty pounds of dog sitting on him. Giving up, he wrapped his arms around the damn dog-not an easy feat-and gave her a hug.

The big oaf put her head on his shoulder and let out a long strand of drool, right down his back. He hardly noticed. “It’s going to be okay,” he told her. Somehow.

But how? He could still picture the glitter of tears in Danielle’s eyes as he told her he loved her.

His love made her nervous.

His heart cracked at that, and a good amount of his temper drained. But for a man who hadn’t even imagined his own happily-ever-after, not quite yet, he had a lot of expectations.

Like being loved back.

NICK TOOK SADIE out back. They sat on the large deck overlooking the gardens, and beyond that, the hillside dotted with bike trails. Far below lay an open meadow, filled with green.

It was a beautiful spot, and Nick knew if peace was what Danielle was seeking, she’d find it out there on the trails.

Maureen came outside and sat by him. “Two things,” she said in her usual blunt style. “I had a friend at the station run that Ted of yours.”

He could tell by the look on her face she’d found something. “And?” he asked.

“Model citizen. Dedicated worker. Always pays his bills, yadda, yadda.”

“But? I think I sense a but at the end of that sentence.”

“Oh, yeah, there’s a but. Several charges of aggravated assault.”

“Convicted?”

“Nope. All the charges were eventually dropped. But if you take those, along with the fact he was quietly released from two different private investing firms over the past five years for the same reason, again no charges filed, you get a different picture of this so-called model citizen. Do you know this hot-head?”