Been There Done That

by Smartypants Romance

  “Let me guess. Something about it being grown folks’ business?”

  A ghost of a smile quirked his lips upward. “He said exactly that. As grateful as I was, as I am still, I hated it. Hated that I couldn’t take care of what we needed, she needed. I hated every time someone walked by us and whispered about my mother, and I hated how the town discussed her buying drugs from the Iron Wraiths, long before I even realized it.”

  Instinctively, I grabbed hold of his hand. “But Nick. You were in high school. You were working two part-time jobs, taking classes at the community college toward your associate’s degree. No one expected you to take on the responsibility for—”

  He shook his head. “You don’t understand. My whole life, I was terrified of being my father. Terrified I’d wake up one day and find myself solving conflicts with my fists, drowning my troubles in beer. Leaving behind the people who were dependent on me.”

  “It’s not the same thing.”

  “I had something to prove to myself. Not just you. I had to prove I could make something of myself, that I could trust myself, that I was better than my father. I told myself I wouldn’t come back, not until I had something to offer you. That gave me the fuel, the fight I needed to accomplish all I did those first two years—”

  “Nick.” I squeezed his hand even harder. “All I’d wanted was you, that was it. That’s all I needed to be happy. If we’d lived in a leaky tin shack with only a bucket to sit on and a single can of Vienna sausages to split between us . . . I would have been overjoyed. Because I would have been with you.”

  “You deserved better than that.”

  “So, why are you back now? What, you figure you deserve me now? Because you have money?”

  He leaned in, pulling my hand farther into the heat of his body. His gaze moved over my face and lost its intensity, softened. “Zora, I’ll never deserve you. Doesn’t mean I’m not going to fight like hell to get you back, though. I just needed to know I had something to offer you, show you I could take care of you—”

  “Have I ever given you the impression that I wanted or needed you to take care of me?”

  “Of course not.”

  “All I wanted was for us to have a future where we could take care of each other.” I met his gaze square on. “But that time has passed for us.”

  He didn’t blink. “It hasn’t. And this has absolutely nothing to do with Jackson James.”

  “You’re right, it’s not his decision. It’s mine.”

  “Can you really look me in the eyes and tell me you don’t feel this, what’s between us?” His voice lowered, but his tone was biting. Urgent. “You’re going to tell me there’s nothing here?”

  “It doesn’t matter what I feel or don’t feel. I’ve changed, too. I don’t let my heart do the driving anymore.”

  “I did what I had to do to keep you safe, and I’d do it again in a heartbeat.”

  “Well, this looks intense.”

  We both jumped, glancing over to find to Walker standing at our table. He frowned down at us in open appraisal.

  “Walker.” Nick stood.

  It was jarring to see the two men standing together after all these years. Walker had always been the older, taller pseudo-brother to Nick. But even at six feet, Walker had to look up to Nick’s towering height.

  Nick stuck out his hand. Walker only looked at it, scowled, then fixed Nick with a grimace, an expression of such startling menace that I was taken aback. Nick’s eyes widened as he took a step back.

  The silence was weighted and deafening.

  “I didn’t cheat on your sister,” Nick said, and Walker glared at him for several more heart-stopping moments before transferring his attention to me. Walker lifted his chin, his eyes traveling over my face as he sought my confirmation.

  “I believe him,” I said weakly.

  “Well, that changes things!” Walker then initiated some intricate handshake that began with him slapping Nick’s palm and ending with them loosely embracing in a one-armed hug. “Good to see you, family! Zora, I’m glad you got things figured out. He’s a little big for me to whoop now using gentleman’s rules. I woulda had to sneak attack him. With a car.” He lowered his voice, stepping in closer to deliver the next line to Nick, but I still caught it. “I still can, too, if the need arises.”

  Nick blanched as Walker cuffed his arm. “Good to see you, brother. We need to catch up while you’re still in town.”

  Nick nodded, clapping Walker back on the arm. I didn’t miss Walker’s wince. “Count on it.”

  I peered at my brother. “What are you doing out here?”

  “Got a date.” Walker inclined his head to a young, smooth-featured woman watching us from the corner of the coffee shop, then looked back at us. “What are y’all doing here?”

  “Work,” I said.

  Nick narrowed his eyes at me, then turned back to Walker. “Yeah, man, we better get back to it.”

  “All right. Let’s do dinner at Zora’s soon.”

  “Why don’t you volunteer your house, Walker?”

  “Because then I’d have to clean it. Now you get to clean yours. You’re welcome. See you both later. Wish me luck.” He threw up two fingers and turned away.

  Nick resumed his seat in the booth, shaking his head. “Wow. It was good to see that guy.” He sounded bemused.

  “I guess so.” I realized I was grateful Walker had shown up when he did. The conversation with Nick had gotten intense.

  A ding sounded from the depths of my purse. I unearthed my phone and found a message from my brother.

  Glad to hear old boy there didn’t cheat, but you may have other things to worry about. A screenshot followed of Jackson at some sporting game, face painted, mouth open with glee. A woman sat on his lap, equally jubilant. And because it was Jackson, he’d left little doubt to the nature of the relationship: his hand was on her right breast.

  Damn. That was Jackson. Sloppy.

  I glanced up from my phone to find Nick watching me closely.

  “Everything all right?”

  “Yeah. Just fine.”

  I risked a glance across the restaurant and met Walker’s stare. He gave me a nod, his jaw set. Dear God. When Grandma Leffersbee warned us of all that would go awry when we practiced deception, boy, had she been right. I wished I could signal to Walker that it was okay, that he didn’t need to string Jackson up.

  But Nick was sitting at the table.

  And if Nick got confirmation that Jackson and I weren’t together . . . ? And he would, the longer he hung around town . . .

  I didn’t even want to think about it.

  Nick sat back, his expression and body language conveying patient serenity.

  “There’s more we need to discuss, as soon as possible. There’s more you need to know. It’s important. Right now, all I’m asking for is time, Zora. I’m in no hurry to leave. Why don’t we just give it time and see how things sort themselves out?”

  Inwardly, I groaned.

  Time was the last thing this situation needed.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Zora

  The community center was transformed.

  Almost every Friday night, a good portion of the town descended on the community center to take in great music while scarfing down the county’s best barbecue, salads, and baked goods. I’d spent many a Friday here in my lifetime, rotating between different classrooms to hear local musicians produce every variety of country, bluegrass, and folk music imaginable.

  Now, the auditorium was filled with enough equipment and lights to resemble a small television studio. I counted nine chairs ringed in a circle with a videographer and light stands parked outside the perimeter. Several suits congregated at one side by the bleachers. The university’s marketing team huddled on the other side next to a folding table piled high with food.

  I spotted Nick, the tallest person in the auditorium, immediately. He stood, arms crossed, scowling at the suits in a semi-circle around him. I force
d my eyes away from the tousled hair, the close fit of his jeans, the stretch of his white dress shirt over well-defined traps, the furry forearms.

  Damn. Since when did fur do it for me?

  If I’d thought I was in danger before meeting at the coffee shop with Nick last night, I was only sinking into quicksand now. True, there was still the issue of Nick’s abrupt disappearance all those years ago to reconcile. Knowing, believing he hadn’t cheated? Well, it changed everything. The information slowly eroded my defenses and left my traitorous imagination free to riot with scenarios I had no business entertaining.

  It didn’t help that Nick was every sexual fantasy I’d ever had personified, right now.

  I needed to give my vagina a full name. I’d need to use her first, middle, and last names when I finally addressed her about the Nick-induced slobbering.

  I’d intended to skirt around all the activity and find the designated observation space in peace when a familiar voice sounded behind me.

  “Zora! There you are!”

  Nellie. Because that’s all this situation needed, right?

  “Here I am,” I said dryly, forcing the ends of my mouth upward. “And there you are. Isn’t this great? We both know each other’s locations. Guess our eyes are in perfect working order, huh?”

  God, that was bitchy. What was wrong with me? Let her draw blood first, Zora. Sheath your claws.

  Her smile faltered and she frowned. “Okay. We’ll I’m glad you made it in today.”

  I didn’t miss the mild censure in her voice. Yep, that was the Nellie I knew. I kept my expression serene. “It’s good to be here.”

  “What was it, again, that you and Mr. Rossi were doing the other day?”

  “Important things.” I made my voice deliberately brisk. “Which I’m sure you don’t have time to hear about, what with all the little details and everything that could go wrong.”

  She darted an anxious look over her shoulder. “I think Marketing has everything well in hand—”

  “Yes, but’s like you always say. ‘Every impression matters when a sizable donation is on the line.’” I gave her Ellie Leffersbee’s trademarked “I’m-Smiling-But-You-Best-Back-The-Hell-Up” smile.

  She stepped back. “All right then. I’ll see you at the break?”

  “Yep, sounds good.” I’d just made it through the auditorium and rounded the corner when I felt a hand on my arm.

  “Zora.”

  And of course.

  Nick.

  Who was now—Queen Beyoncé, please help me—sporting a full-grown beard.

  All that ink-black facial hair made his vivid green eyes glow in contrast. It emphasized the sculpted planes of his face, the high cheek bones, the full lips.

  I wanted the insides of my thighs to get a chance at this view.

  Don’t stare.

  “Yeah?” I made my voice neutral.

  His gaze moved over my face, then hung heavy at my mouth. “You look good. Amazing, actually. You got some sleep.”

  Yep. The facial, massage, and hundred-and-fifty-dollar haircut I’d gotten the other day hadn’t hurt, nor did the cute black surplice dress that handily straddled both the professional and sexy domains. I was looking good, feeling good, and hopefully ready for whatever came my way.

  Unfortunately, sleep had the unintended consequence of revving up my hormones. Dear God, had Nick always looked this sexy up close?

  “I did, thanks. You look better too.” And he did. Still tired, for sure, but lighter somehow. Freer. I wondered if he’d had a positive development with his work.

  We stood there nodding like idiots, staring at each other. He still hadn’t moved his hand from my arm.

  “Listen,” he said, his voice pitched low. I leaned dangerously closer to hear him, just as he probably intended. He didn’t step back; in fact, he moved forward until I was mere inches away. “We got distracted yesterday, with Walker and all, and you didn’t seem much for talking after that. But I need us to talk again. Today. It’s important.”

  He threw a look over his shoulder into the gym, then led me farther around the corner. We settled against the cool tiled wall. I was trapped in his gaze, unable to move as he edged even closer.

  “There’s more that needs to be said. There are things I need to tell you.”

  Jesus, there was more?

  He glanced over my shoulder. I turned to see what held his attention.

  We’d turned out of the auditorium’s double doors and into the atrium of the building. His attention was riveted to the massive bulletin board where community members advertised babysitting services, posted fliers for lost pets, and advertised work sites for day laborers.

  “It hasn’t changed.” He gave a short bark of harsh laughter. “None of it. Seems like nothing changed around here.”

  I eyed the board, unsure of how to proceed. “I’m not sure if that’s exactly true. But I’m hardly qualified to judge. I’ve been back a while.”

  He turned in a slow circle, taking in the arteries of hallways branching off the main corridor. “It feels the same. Looks the same. It’s like stepping back in time.”

  Observing the rigid set of his massive shoulders, I sought to bring levity to the moment. “Oh, so you’re saying you remember dropping a whole plate of brisket on this very spot when we were in middle school?”

  The tension around his eyes relaxed. He advanced toward me, only stopping when he was so close I had to crane my neck up to see past his whisker-covered jaw. A knowing smile sat on his lips as he captured an escaped curl at my temple, sliding it slowly through his fingers. I didn’t want to back away. I wanted to step forward, into him, to rest my breasts against the solid wall of his chest.

  I was a smart woman. A thinking woman. A take-no-shit woman.

  And my hormones were betraying me in the fight for my dignity.

  We who are about to die salute you.

  “Are you referring to the incident in which a certain person jostled my arm and knocked said plate to the floor?”

  He was so close. Greedily, I inhaled clean skin, expensive musk.

  I shook my head, swallowed back a smile. “That’s not how I recall it.”

  “Of course that isn’t how you recall it.” His hand released the curl. His arm dropped, but those green eyes stayed on my mine. “We had a lot of firsts in this building, didn’t we?”

  My heart tripped into a dangerous rhythm. I looked away.

  “We did.”

  Oh Lord.

  Celeste. That was as good a name as any for a vagina, right?

  Celeste Solange Leffersbee, you will stop your slobbering right now.

  He smirked down at me as if he knew exactly what Celeste was up to.

  Was I breathing fast?

  “Which one of these rooms did you fall in? Opened up a whole gash on your chin. Didn’t someone pass out from the sight of all the blood?”

  I grinned, releasing a pent-up breath as I took a single, life-preserving step backward.

  Away from temptation.

  Celeste whimpered.

  “Thirteen stitches, thank you very much. The guitar player propped up the bass player.” I lifted my chin, proudly showed off the scar underneath. “Men. So weak.”

  “God, you were a menace then.” Pure appreciation shone in those wicked eyes. “You’re even worse now.”

  “I do what I can. I like to keep people on their toes.”

  He closed the space between us. I jumped when his fingers slid between mine until our palms met. “I’m glad you’re here, you know.”

  Danger. Danger. “Okay.”

  “Mr. Rossi?”

  A young woman approached, almost running in sky high heels and a formfitting suit. Her hands were pressed into anxious fists.

  “Mr. Rossi. Here you are.”

  I smiled at her hushed, worshipful tone, half-expecting her to genuflect. Her blue eyes widened as she chewed on her lip.

  Nick frowned, slid his hands from mine.

&nbs
p; Why the hell had we been holding hands?

  “Samantha.” Nick nodded to the woman. His tone was formal, professional. “Are we about ready?”

  “Yes,” she chirped, and I saw she was wringing her hands now. “They’ve already started, actually.”

  “I’d better go, then.” I attempted to walk past Nick, but his hand shot up and caught me, rested right against my stomach, slowing my progress.

  My not-flat stomach.

  “Where are you going? Samantha, this is Dr. Zora Leffersbee. She’s been kind enough to consult with us during the developmental process.”

  “Call me Zora.”

  “Oh!” She pumped my hand enthusiastically. “Nice to finally meet you in person. We’ve heard a lot about you.”

  “Nice to meet you too.”

  “Samantha heads our San Francisco-based R&D team. She’s running point with Marketing at the university.”

  We nodded at each other like marionettes, neither of us finding anything else to say.

  I glanced up at Nick and found him watching me with an odd expression.

  “Dr. Leffersbee and I grew up together in this town.”

  Her eyes widened. “Really? You grew up here?”

  Nick and I both laughed at the incredulity in her voice.

  “Yes, he did.” I laughed. “Hard as it may be to believe now.”

  “I’m sure it’s very nice,” she said, already back-tracking to the auditorium door. “It’s certainly very pretty.”

  “Everything is handled,” Nick said to her, and it wasn’t a question; it was a statement.

  “Yes. There’s a live feed in the next room where we’ll all sit since we don’t have two-way glass. It will all be recorded, so you and Dr. Leffersbee can take your time.” Her voice lowered. “Fourth door to the left.”