Lissa- Sugar and Spice 1.6 - Final

by Lissa- Sugar

  “What happened?”

  A muscle knotted in Nick’s jaw.

  “We were shooting a movie in Toronto. This guy came along—he was a friend of one of the grips. That’s a guy who—”

  “—works with the lighting and electrical stuff. I know. You can’t survive in La La Land without picking up some of the lingo.”

  “So this guy started hanging around. There was an animal trainer on the set because we were using horses. And this jerk asked the trainer if he wanted to see a really well-trained animal. The guy said sure, and the next day, he showed up with Brutus.”

  “And?”

  “And,” he said, his tone hardening, “Brutus was big and beautiful, smart as hell—and defeated. He kept his tail between his legs. He flinched when anybody tried to pet him. He obeyed what seemed like thousands of commands. His owner was proudest of the feeding thing. ‘He’d starve to death if I weren’t there to tell him he could eat,’ he said, and I wanted to put my fist down his throat.”

  “Oh God, how horrible!”

  “The SOB got busy, trying to cozy up to the trainer. I had some time alone with the dog. It took hours, but he finally let me pet him. Not pet him, exactly. He let me touch his head. The piece of shit who owned him saw it happen. He was furious. He shouted at the dog and raised his fist to him and I—I got between them and… Let’s just say I put a stop to it.”

  “That bastard!”

  “I called him far worse than that. Then I told him he was going to sell the dog to me, that he’d tell me the secret word and he’d see to it that the dog understood that it was going to be OK to let the eating command come from me from that day on.” Nick’s hands tightened on the wheel. “He didn’t like the idea, but I persuaded him.”

  She nodded. She could imagine how persuasive Nick had been.

  “It took me a long time to win Brutus’s trust.” He looked at her and smiled. “You won it in seconds. I’ve never seen him jump up and kiss anybody before. I mean, he’s great with me, but he still hangs back with other people.”

  “He must have known that I fell head over heels in love with him the second I saw him.”

  Nick took one hand from the wheel and reached for hers.

  “You know, I never believed in that love-at-first-sight thing,” he said gruffly.

  Lissa felt her heart stand still. She looked across the cab at Nick. His face was lit by the dashboard lights; he was looking at her, too.

  “No?”

  “No. Not until now.”

  “You mean, until you saw Brutus with me.”

  He brought their joined hands to his mouth and kissed her fingers.

  “Something like that,” he said, and just then, the road merged with the one heading for the town that was just south of Clearwater Pass. It was heavy with traffic and Nick let go of Lissa’s hand, downshifted, and concentrated on his driving.

  * * *

  Their table was very private, and tucked beside a wall of glass that looked out on a grove of delicately-illuminated snow-covered aspens.

  Ivory tapers in crystal holders provided just enough light; the table cloth and serviettes were of heavy ivory linen. The menus were handwritten with black calligraphy.

  Nick had made the reservation under a pseudonym, but though they’d been treated with discretion, he knew he’d been recognized the minute he and Lissa walked in. He knew the signs: the widened eyes, the delighted greeting, the deference that went beyond the way customers were normally treated.

  Identity blown, he’d thought; nothing would be the same after tonight. It scared the hell out of him, but he knew it was time.

  Lissa deserved a life lived to the fullest, not one spent in the shadows.

  She had changed everything, even how he looked at the world.

  Once, he’d have seen Clearwater Pass as just another trendy venue—handsome, expensive, nothing more. Tonight, he saw it through her eyes. Its charm. Its special ambience.

  Or maybe what he saw was her joy. The glow in her face, the way she looked at the menu, the candlesticks, even the heavy silver service. Some of it he recognized as female delight. Some, he knew, was the delight of a classically trained chef.

  When their server brought coffee and a dish of small, exquisite pastries, Lissa asked if he’d be kind enough to wrap two of them for a very good friend.

  “Brutus,” she’d whispered to Nick, when the man happily obliged.

  Nick smiled. “He’ll be thrilled.”

  She smiled, too. “Our boy deserves the best.”

  Our boy, Nick thought, and reached for her hand.

  “Glad we came here tonight?” he asked softly.

  “Oh, it’s been a wonderful evening!”

  “Good.”

  “Clearwater Pass could stand up to any of the most upscale restaurants in L.A. or New York. Someone took a lot of care with it, from the biggest to the smallest details. And the location! The only one I’ve seen that could better it is the Triple G’s.”

  “You like the ranch’s location?”

  “Oh, Nick, you must know that it’s amazing! The meadows. The mountains. Even the house, now that I’ve gotten to know it better. My sister Jaimie was in real estate for a little while. She’d say the house needs work, but that it has good—”

  “—bones. Heck, I know some of that lingo myself.”

  “And the food here…”

  “Nice?” Nick said politely.

  “Amazing! Innovative! Brilliant! And beautifully presented. Even the service… It’s caring, but unobtrusive.”

  “Caring, but unobtrusive,” Nick repeated gravely. “Exactly what I was thinking.”

  Lissa laughed. He wanted to kiss her, but he had the feeling she wouldn’t appreciate being pulled from her chair and bent back over his arm in a room filled with people.

  “Do I sound crazy?”

  “You sound like what you are. My gorgeous chef.” He laced their fingers together. “I’m selfish, keeping you all to myself at the Triple G.”

  “I’m happy at the Triple G.”

  “Yeah, but you’d be happier with a staff of—what? There must be a couple of dozen people working here.”

  “More than that. In the kitchen alone, there are probably….” Lissa rolled her eyes. “Stop me before I bore you to death.”

  “You could never bore me.”

  “It’s just that, you know, this is the kind of place I’ve always dreamed of.”

  “You wouldn’t change a thing about it?”

  “No. Well, a little. The food was wonderful. But I’d gear the menu to the setting. The mountains, the forest, the elements. Locally produced foods, simple foods, but not simply done. You know?”

  “Sure,” he said, even though he was clueless. The only thing he did know was that all the other women who’d passed through his life only showed this kind of excitement over expensive jewelry and couturier labels.

  “I even have a name for a restaurant like that.” She caught her bottom lip between her teeth and leaned toward him “Sounds silly to have spent so much time building castles in the air—”

  “What would you name it?”

  “Basic Elegance.”

  “I like it.”

  “Seriously?” Her teeth sank lightly into her lip again.

  “Seriously.” Nick cleared his throat. “And if you don’t stop chewing on your lip, I’m going to pick you up and carry you out of here.”

  Color swept into her face, along with a look of abject delight.

  “Promises, promises,” she whispered.

  Nick looked at her. Then he took out his wallet, dumped a stack of bills on the table, reached for his cane and stood up.

  “Nick?”

  “Melissa,” he said, his voice low and hot and filled with an emotion that made her heartbeat quicken. “Melissa,” he said again, and then he held out his hand, helped her to her feet and, to hell with it, curved his arm around her, drew her to him and kissed her.

  A little buzz of ex
citement whispered through the nearest tables, followed them as they walked out the door. Outside, he kissed her again, then handed the valet the ticket for his truck.

  “—Nick Gentry,” an excited voice said behind them as the kid hurried away. “Really, I know it’s him, but who’s the—”

  “Shh!” another voice said.

  A couple stepped around Nick and Lissa, threw them a quick glance, and hurried along a path that led to the main lodge.

  Lissa groaned and leaned her head against Nick’s shoulders.

  “This is going to be everywhere in twenty-four hours. Pictures of you, the fact that you’re in northern Montana, and they’ll surely find out about the Triple G. It’s all my fault. If I hadn’t let you bring me here…”

  “Then we’ll make the most of those twenty-four hours, sweetheart, and coming here was my idea, remember?”

  The valet brought the truck to the curb. Nick thanked him and handed him a bill. Lissa climbed into the cab. Nick got behind the wheel.

  “I wanted to bring you here,” he said again. “I meant what I said. It’s time I moved into the world again.” He stepped harder on the gas. Then he glanced at her before looking back at the road. “And there’s something else.”

  Lissa’s heart thudded. He sounded so serious. Was he going to tell her their idyll, their affair, whatever you called it, was over? If he was, as he’d put it, moving into the world again…

  “What?” she said in a small voice she hardly recognized as her own.

  “It’s time I told you what happened to me. How I fucked up my leg.” He reached for her hand and gripped it so tight that she felt each of his fingers press into the bones in her wrist. “How I fucked up everything.” Nick swallowed hard. “And I’m scared shitless, because it might change how you feel about being with me.”

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  If ever Nick had known a time that called for a good shot of whiskey, this was it.

  But he’d poured all that bourbon down the drain two weeks back; he’d been sober ever since and he knew damn well that was a good thing.

  Brutus gave them a big hello and an ecstatic wag of the tail for the delicate little pastries that vanished in two bites of his massive jaws. They checked on Louie and Peaches and found them sleeping curled together in a basket in Nick’s office.

  Nick let the Newf out while Lissa brewed a pot of tea. Then they went upstairs to his bedroom, to their bedroom, and he lit a fire on the hearth while she poured tea.

  He didn’t have the heart to tell her that he’d always figured tea was what you drank when you were sick. Besides, he had to admit this stuff smelled great, of cinnamon and other spices, and he needed something to warm him.

  He was ice cold with fear.

  He had planned on facing the world tonight, but he hadn’t planned on facing Lissa.

  But he knew the time was right.

  They settled on the love seat before the fireplace, Brutus at their feet. Silence stretched between them.

  Finally, Nick cleared his throat.

  “Great tea.”

  “I’m a big tea fan.”

  “What’s that taste? Cinnamon? Something else?”

  “Allspice. And a little bit of orange peel.”

  “Ah.”

  More silence.

  “Your own recipe?”

  “I wouldn’t call it a recipe. It’s just something I learned to toss together years a—”

  “I was on patrol with three army Rangers in Afghanistan,” Nick said, the words rushed, low, spoken so quickly they ran into each other. “We were in a Humvee. We ran over an IED. I was the only one who made it out.”

  Lissa stared at him. He’d shifted forward, his gaze locked to the orange and blue flames on the hearth, his hands so tightly wrapped around the mug of tea that his knuckles were white.

  “Oh God,” she said softly, “oh Nicholas…”

  “Two of them were nineteen. One was thirty. They called him Pop. He had a wife and two kids. He showed me their picture that morning.”

  She put her hand on his arm. She could feel the rigidity of his muscles before he shook off her touch.

  “The nineteen-year-olds were from the same town in West Virginia. One had a twin sister back home. The other was an only child.”

  Tea sloshed over the rim of Lissa’s mug as she put it down on the small table beside her. She had to say something, but what? This was Nick’s awful secret, that he’d seen three brave young men die.

  “It must have been terrible, seeing that happen.”

  “Seeing it happen?” Nick slammed down his mug and shot to his feet. “Don’t you understand? I killed them!”

  The ugly words seemed to echo through the room, but even as they did, she knew they couldn’t be accurate. Nick, her Nick, was incapable of hurting, much less killing, anybody.

  Lissa stood up. Nick had gone to one of the windows; his hands were pressed to the sill, his forehead to the glass. She reached out her hand, then drew it back.

  “Nick,” she said softly.

  He didn’t answer.

  “Nicholas. Please. Talk to me.”

  “I just did.” His voice was low; she had to strain to hear him. “I told you that I’m the reason three men died.”

  “You said you killed them. And I know that you didn’t.”

  He swung toward her. “You weren’t there.”

  “No. I wasn’t. But I know you. You’d never knowingly hurt a soul.”

  This far from the fireplace, the flames on the hearth limned his face in gold. She saw a muscle flexing in his jaw, saw the set of his lips, the darkness in his eyes. She said his name and put her hand on his arm again.

  Progress.

  He flinched, but he didn’t jerk away.

  “Please,” she said softly. “Tell me what happened.”

  She waited while seconds became minutes. Just when she’d almost given up hope, Nick went back to the love seat and sat down.

  “We were in India,” he said. “On location in the foothills of the Himalayas, shooting a movie about an infantry unit that gets pinned down in a firefight outside Kabul.” He paused, leaned forward, his elbows on his thighs, his hands knotted, and stared into the fire. “The guy who wrote the script had been a Ranger. He still had buddies in the service. A couple of them were stationed in Afghanistan. We were halfway through shooting when he said he’d been in touch with this one old friend and how much it would mean to all the guys in his unit if we paid them a visit.”

  “A visit? In the middle of a war?”

  Nick shook his head. “The war part was over. That was the official word, anyway. We’d go in by chopper, no announcements ahead of time, no fuss, get dropped at a small base camp, I’d shake some hands, that kind of thing. Others had done it. Comics. Actors. Some with fanfare, some without.” He rose again, began to pace. “The director liked the idea. The producer didn’t. They joked about it, said I had the winning vote. And I voted to go.”

  Lissa felt a coldness seep into her bones.

  “Nick. You had no way of knowing things would go bad.”

  “We got the necessary clearance, picked a day, a time, helicoptered in.” He looked at her. “There’s no way to explain what it felt like to meet those men. Some of them were on their fourth or fifth deployment. Just seeing a face from home that had nothing to do with the fucking war… You’d have thought I was Santa Claus.”

  “A famous face,” Lissa said softly, “somebody running a risk for them the way they’d been running a risk for all of us.”

  “One guy said as much. I tried to explain that what we’d done that day was zero compared to what they’d been doing, what they were still doing. They said it was too bad we hadn’t come in sooner. They’d gone out on patrol and I could have gone with them. And then one of them said, hey, what about going out again? What about me going with them?”

  She knew it all now. She could see the awful predictability unfolding ahead of her like a road leading straight to hell.r />
  “And I said…” He choked. “I said that sounded great. All they needed was their CO’s approval and it turned out he was just heading over to meet me. They told him their idea and he said, hell, he was my biggest fan and he only wished he didn’t have a meeting or he’d go with us. So we climbed into the same goddamn Humvee they just driven and headed down the same goddamn dirt road through the same goddamn field toward the same goddamn burnt-out village…”

  “Nick. Don’t. Please. You don’t have to—”

  “I don’t even remember it happening. Just a lot of laughter and music blaring, and then this huge WHAM and a spear of flame and then—and then, they were gone. Two boys and a guy with a wife and kids waiting back home.”

  Blind instinct took her to where he stood. If he tried to push her away, she wouldn’t let him. He needed her now, and she needed him.

  But he didn’t push her away.

  He broke down, sobbing, and she took him in her arms, and there was no way of knowing where his tears began and hers ended.

  * * *

  The fire had died to glowing coals.

  It was late. Very late, that time of night when darkness swallows the world.

  It was cold in the bedroom. Lissa had drawn an old patchwork comforter from the back of the love seat; they sat wrapped within it, and within each other’s arms.

  “It wasn’t your fault, Nicholas,” she said quietly. “You must know that.”

  He gave a long, weary sigh.

  “If I hadn’t gone there in the first place, if I hadn’t said yes when they suggested going out again—”

  “Life is filled with ifs. That’s what life is all about. The ifs. Taking a step off a curb or not taking it. Turning a corner or not turning it. Getting out of bed at seven instead of at six. All those ifs, and you can’t quantify them as right or wrong because that’s the thing about ifs, they aren’t right or wrong, they just exist.”

  Nick gave a choked laugh.

  “You sound like the legion of shrinks who marched through my hospital room.”

  “It’s the truth, Nicholas, and you know it.”

  “Yeah.” He shrugged his shoulders. “Part of me does—but it’s hard not to think how things would have gone had I made a different choice.”