Solving for Nic (Self Made Men...Southern Style Book 2)

by Lexxi Callahan

  “I like him, Rogan.” She held her breath for Rogan’s reaction. It was wonderfully anti-climactic.

  “I can see that.” He straightened. “I need to pick out a movie before Zachary does.”

  “Things are good?” Lizzie asked, giving him what she hoped was an encouraging smile.

  “We’re getting there.”

  Zachary beat him to it and spent the beginning of the flight dancing with lemurs, and running back and forth between his father and uncle until he stopped and passed out, snoring loudly while Angie tucked him into his travel seat. While they were occupied with their son, Nic pulled Lizzie out of her seat.

  “Hungry?” He pulled her into the surprisingly large galley. He shut the door, backed her up against it. “I’m starving.”

  His mouth sealed over hers and she sighed. Her arms went around him while he melted every bone in her body. He was starving for her. She was for him too and she kissed him back with an intensity she hadn’t known she was capable of but it might be their last kiss, and she wanted to remember the way it felt to be in his arms.

  He lifted his head. “This isn’t a goodbye kiss.”

  His next kiss was brutal, and when he raised his head his expression was worse. Her lips throbbed as she raked her front teeth over her bottom lip to keep it from trembling. “Nic, I—”

  Fingers pressed against her mouth. “We’ve done everything backwards. When I get back, we’ll have dinner and see where it goes.”

  She nodded and let a tiny spark of hope scrape off her heart. “Okay,” she agreed, letting herself believe him despite the warning sirens and red flags going off in her mind. “Dinner.”

  He kissed her again, pulling her deep into his body and turning that tiny spark into a bonfire. It was a dangerous kiss and gave her too much hope and worse, made it seem safe to dream. She poured herself back into the kiss, wanting to leave her mark on him the way he was leaving his on her. She wanted it to resonate through him until he returned to her. Because she wanted him to return. More than she wanted her next breath.

  The sun was high and hot in New Orleans and the humidity was like a heavy wet blanket but it was nothing compared to the suffocating weight settling on her chest. Hitching her bag over her shoulders, she took the first step. Then the next step, then the next until she felt Louisiana under her feet and for the first time, it didn’t help to be back home.

  Nothing was going to help.

  Then an arm slid around her waist and kept her from tipping out of the world. She turned into him, sighing when his arms closed around her. His palm rested against the back of her head and she leaned into his chest. The world stopped and for a perfect moment all the pain was gone.

  Time had no meaning for her when he held her. Reality no longer mattered. The strength of his body and his clean spicy scent were all she needed. She’d been a fool to think she could walk away from him in one piece. She drank in the perfect moment, trying to memorize every detail and hoping they would stay like this forever.

  He lifted his head, the tenderness in his expression warming her in ways nothing else could. Then he started walking her toward a familiar Escalade. Her heart stopped. This was it. Everything squeezed tight inside her and she turned into Nic, pressing her forehead into his shoulder. His hand stroked the back of her head. He kissed her temple. “Don’t disappear.”

  “I won’t.”

  “Promise me, Lizzie. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

  “I promise.” The words escaped from her heart before her brain had a chance to weigh in.

  He smiled, an odd smile she wasn’t sure how to take. Then he opened the car door for her and stepped back so she could get in. Every instinct she had told her to grab hold of him and make him take her with him. Getting in the car was a big mistake. Letting him leave was a bigger one.

  Nic urged her inside. “Dream about me,” he whispered in her ear, then spoke to his sister when she jerked the front door open and slid inside. Angie answered without turning around, waving a dismissive hand at him.

  “Be safe.” Lizzie forced herself not to jump right back out of the SUV as he shut her door.

  “I’ll see you in a week.”

  Then the door was closed between them. She was amazed at how much it hurt. She’d known it wouldn’t be fun but she hadn’t been prepared for the hollowness and dread. A week. She could do a week. A week away from him would be good. Maybe she could get some perspective back.

  “Touching.”

  She ignored the sneering comment and watched Nic and Rogan talking. Zachary was on Rogan’s shoulder but he kept reaching for Nic. He threw himself at his uncle who caught him easily then hugged him close to his chest.

  Lizzie wasn’t sure how much more her heart could take.

  Angie turned in her seat, when Lizzie didn’t acknowledge her. “Don’t think for one minute he’s serious about you.”

  “Don’t start.”

  “My brother’s affairs last about six weeks. They end with a beautiful diamond bracelet chosen by his girl Friday, Pam, and delivered with lots of roses and good wishes.” Angie’s eyes flicked over her. “You barely lasted a week.”

  Lizzie sucked in a breath, trying to stay calm. “He had meetings he couldn’t reschedule.”

  Angie laughed. “Meetings? In Hong Kong? Oh, Lizzie.” Angie sighed, false compassion making her smile cruel. “Hong Kong is code for Xia Chang.

  The name pricked at her. Xia Chang sounded familiar. “Who?” she asked before she could stop herself.

  “Who?” Angie pushed her hair behind her ear. “Xia Chang is the only long-term relationship Nic’s ever had. They’ve been together for years, Lizzie. Surely, you’ve seen pictures of her. They hit the gossip blogs and tabloid anytime Nic is in Hong Kong.”

  Lizzie swallowed hard and resisted the urge to dig her cell phone out of her purse. She refused to fall apart in front of Angie. “I’m not listening to you, Angie. Give it up.”

  “You fell for him, didn’t you? He said you would. Why do you think he took you to the Keys? He wanted to get you away from my husband but now Rogan and I are back together and he’s done with you. He’s flying back to her like he always does.”

  Lizzie sucked in a ragged breath as each word hit her like a dart, breaking her skin and shattering her insides. “That’s not true.”

  “Why would I lie? If you don’t believe me, Google her. It’s Xia with an X.” Angie smirked. “I’m sure there’ll be photographs all over the Internet in a few days.”

  Lizzie started to tell Angie to go to hell, but all the hatred and animosity staring back at her stopped her.

  “Now you know how it feels when the man you want wants someone else.” Her voice broke and she turned around. “Or maybe you get a thrill being the other woman.”

  Ice burned through Lizzie but before she could react Rogan opened the back door and strapped his exhausted son into his car seat.

  “Zio Nic,” Zachary pleaded, grabbing handfuls of Rogan’s hair. “Want Zio Nic.”

  It was the same thing Lizzie wanted to yell. Zachary’s cries gutted what was left of her.

  “I know, buddy. He’ll be back soon.” Rogan kissed his son’s forehead, then extricated his hair from tiny fists. Even drowning in pain, Lizzie could see what a good father Rogan was and how much more settled he seemed with his family back.

  Lizzie knew it would take one word, one repetition of the vitriol Angie had flung at her and Rogan’s reconciliation with his wife would be over. She couldn’t do it. She wanted him to be happy. When he glanced at her with concerned green eyes, she forced herself to swallow it all down and smile.

  “Lizzie? He’ll be back in a few days.”

  She nodded and dashed back a stray tear with the edge of her hand. “I know. I’m tired and ready to get home.”

  “You want us to drop you at your parents’ house or Jen and Stefan’s?”

  “Jen’s.” She turned toward the window in time to see Nic going up the stairs to the jet. May
be he would look back.

  He should have looked back.

  She waited.

  The door of the jet shut behind him at the same time Rogan shut Zachary’s door.

  She bit the inside of her lip until she tasted blood and the burning tears backed off.

  He hadn’t looked back. Not once.

  Her hand covered her mouth and she swallowed it all back down. She was not going to fall apart. She leaned her forehead against the window, the glass cool on her hot skin. She needed numbers. She wanted to lose herself in her research and not think about anything but gaps fluctuations.

  Chapter Twelve

  Nic stared at his cell phone for another half second before it went skidding across the glossy wood conference table. It crashed into an abandoned glass of water, which upended and splashed water across the table. He ignored the water dripping onto the carpet and ripped the Windsor knot at his neck loose.

  It didn’t help. He still couldn’t breathe.

  He’d cleared the conference room a few minutes ago when he couldn’t listen to any more reports, projections or labor issues. It hadn’t occurred to him to step out of the room. He’d abruptly ended the meeting and kicked everyone out. No one had protested. They had calmly gathered their things and left him alone to brood.

  He should have never let her off the plane.

  He retrieved his cell phone, then opened his photos. She smiled at him, blue eyes dancing straight through him. He’d snapped the photograph of her when she’d been sunbathing, careful to only get her face. He pushed the heel of his hand hard against his forehead and tried to shake off the falling sensation.

  He should never have let her leave the house. He should’ve kept her in the Keys.

  Why wasn’t she answering her phone?

  There was a soft tap on the door before it opened halfway, and Xia appeared. “Nic. We have a reception in an hour.”

  Nic dropped the phone on the conference table and went to stare out at the crowded skyline. The stunning view was lost on him. Everything was gray. “You’ll have to apologize for me. I’m not up to another party. The fundraiser the other night was enough.”

  Her smile was mild as she straightened an imaginary wrinkle from the white jacket she wore. “What should I say?”

  “Tell them I have jet lag.”

  “Nic.” She surprised him when she joined him at the window instead of slipping out discreetly. She held out the phone he’d left on the conference table. Lizzie’s picture was open on the screen. “Is she the reason you’ve been in such a black mood? Oh, don’t answer, I can see it all over you.”

  “She’s not answering her phone,” he admitted gruffly. He shoved his hands in his pockets and glanced back over his shoulder at her.

  She was fighting a smile and it surprised him so much he turned around. “You think this is funny?”

  She shook her head slowly, letting the smile take over her expression. “Have you looked in the mirror? When was the last time you shaved?”

  One hand left his pocket and he was surprised his normal scruff was a lot fuller than he normally allowed. “You’re taking this rather well.”

  Her smile widened, revealing her rare sense of humor. “You wanted me to tear my hair out and cry?”

  “Maybe,” he admitted, turning to gaze out at the city that had always been his refuge. Now it was overwhelming. Too busy. He should never have left the Keys.

  “Oh.” She brushed his concern aside. “I did two years ago. But I could have refused the job offer and everything would have stayed the same.”

  Nic chuckled. “I made you the offer because I knew you were tired of me.”

  “You were getting too old.” Her smile was indulgent and clearly amused. “If this girl is different, you may want to make some adjustments in how you approach relationships. In fact, whatever your first instinct is, you should do the opposite.”

  “I’m that bad?”

  Her smile never flickered. “At some point, you are going to have to let your walls down. Not everyone is waiting outside for a chance to steal part of you.”

  “She’s not waiting for me.”

  “I find that hard to believe.” She waved a hand at him. “Go home. If she’s not waiting, find her.”

  “Chase after her?”

  “What is your first instinct?”

  Nic’s jaw tightened as he realized his first instinct was to say the hell with her. If she didn’t want to talk to him, fine. Anger burned in his gut and the excruciating hole in his chest expanded.

  She shook her head, before he could answer. “Do the opposite.”

  “You want me to crawl on my knees and beg?”

  “Will it make you feel worse than you do now?”

  Nothing could feel worse than this black despair clawing at him. “I hate when you make sense.”

  “Go home. Everything is under control here. You can fly out tonight.”

  When the door shut behind her, he checked his phone. No texts. No missed calls. Nothing. He started to hit redial and stopped himself. Calling was doing no good. Instead, he called Pam to see if she could get the next available flight time for his jet. With any luck he’d be in the air before morning.

  “Every slice of cheese doesn’t have to be straight, Lizzie.”

  Jen stepped up to the kitchen island where Lizzie had a line of bread slices spaced across the island. She blinked back tears. She couldn’t put cheese on sandwiches right.

  “Lizzie,” Jen whispered, moving to hug her again. “You can’t keep up like this.”

  Lizzie backed up quickly, her arms going up in the air, palms out. “You knew better than to ask me to help. I’m hopeless in the kitchen.”

  Jen’s shoulder’s sagged. “That isn’t what I meant.”

  Jen was getting fed up with her because she wasn’t telling her about Florida. Lizzie couldn’t talk about it yet. Not without her skin peeling off.

  Jared leaned over her shoulder and started moving cheese slices so they were uneven again. “They’re like Stepford sandwiches.”

  “Who are you again, you bald-headed freak?” Lizzie meant to sound snappy and sarcastic but snappy eluded her. She sounded tired.

  Jared rubbed his super short hair and grinned. “You don’t like it?”

  Lizzie sighed. She was so tired. She couldn’t get enough sleep. “I didn’t say that. I don’t know why you cut it.”

  “He lost a bet.” Jen snickered. “He won’t say which one.”

  Jared grinned and went back to disrupting her carefully placed cheese. It should have all felt familiar, despite Jared’s freakishly short hair, but Jen and Stefan’s home didn’t feel like her home anymore. Jen and Stefan were married. The knowledge kept ringing through her with a sharp edge she hadn’t expected.

  Everything was different. They were different. Closer. Lizzie wasn’t used to feeling like a third wheel with her best friend and brother but they weren’t a trio anymore. Jen and Stefan were best friends and she was the little sister. She’d wanted Jen to be her real sister all her life, another one of her childish dreams had come true and bitten her on the ass.

  She was never going to learn. She dashed back a stray tear and realized the room had gone quiet. Jared and Jen were watching her too closely. Concern softened their expressions and it undid Lizzie. They felt sorry for her? Could she be any more humiliated?

  “The cheese will melt anyway,” Jen reassured her and finished piling turkey and roast beef on the bread. “Here, you can have extra smoked gouda.” Jen added another slice to Lizzie’s cheese sandwich.

  “Why don’t I get extra smoked gouda?” Jared snatched a slice when Jen wasn’t looking.

  “You can have extra.” Jen added extra cheese on Jared’s sandwich.

  “If he’s getting extra cheese, then I’d better get some.” Stefan stepped into the doorway, caught the upper jam with both hands, and stretched.

  Jen shook her head and added more cheese to Stefan’s. Lizzie couldn’t work up a smile
when Stefan grabbed one of the sandwiches off the pan and bit into it before Jen could get it back.

  “Those aren’t finished!” Jen yelled at him, surprising Lizzie.

  It was strange seeing Jen so unguarded with Stefan. He’d gotten a lot more than he bargained for with Jen. He was enjoying it too if his expression was any indication.

  Lizzie smiled as Stefan held his sandwich over his head. “Tasted good to me,” Stefan insisted, waving the sandwich before taking another bite.

  Disgusted, Jen dropped her arms and went back to finish the others. “I was going to toast them.”

  “I’m starving and you’re making me two, right? The hippie’s sourdough is better untoasted.”

  “See.” Jared smirked at Jen. “What did I tell you?”

  Jen eyed them with disgusted amusement. “I liked it better when you two hated each other.”

  “I still hate him,” Stefan assured her around another mouthful of sandwich.

  Jared batted his eyelashes at Stefan. “Not as much as I hate you.”

  Stefan rolled his eyes and ate his sandwich. What planet was she on? Stefan hated bread. He never ate carbs. Now he swallowed down a sandwich and grabbed a handful of homemade potato chips.

  “What did I tell you, Lizzie?” Jen smirked. “Total bromance.”

  Jared made gagging noises while Stefan almost spit the food out of his mouth. Normally Lizzie would have enjoyed their banter. She normally would say something like have you two picked out your china pattern yet?

  Now, she was too tired and all of it seemed to be happening at a great distance. She was so disconnected. Panic slicked up her throat as she realized it wasn’t everyone else. It was her. She’d changed. She was the one who was different.

  It took her a minute to realize they were all staring at her again. They were concerned and sympathetic. Lizzie couldn’t stand much more of it.

  Stefan broke the strained silence. “So you got nothing?”

  “What?”

  “This is the part where you back up Jen with some smart-ass comment we all pretend to understand.”

  “Oh.” She tried to think of something to throw him off but wasn’t quick enough.