Come Home Again (The Donovans)

by Nana Malone

  After thanking Dylan for his help, Nate tossed on clean jeans and a T-shirt before heading for Park and Associates.

  Thanks to Willow, he knew where to find Ross. The assistant he passed on the way to Delilah’s old office appeared flustered when he blew by her desk, but he wasn’t in the mood for the bullshit today. Instead, he barged right into Ross’s office.

  The asshole had the good grace to look a little scared. Good.

  But he recovered quickly. “What the fuck do you want? You’re lucky I didn't file assault charges against you.” He sputtered.

  Nate let the corner of his lip turn up into a smirk. “What were you going to say in the report? ‘I was trying to blackmail him and he gave me what I had coming?’ Go ahead. I dare you.”

  Ross scowled. “What the fuck do you want?”

  “Oh, you know. Since we had such a great time last night, I thought we could talk about Cyrus Monroe.”

  Ross’s right eyebrow twitched. “I don’t know who that is.”

  Nate crossed his arms. “Really? That’s funny. Because you attempted to blackmail me by saying I’d killed him that night.”

  The color leached out of Ross’s face. “You’re full of shit.”

  “See, Ross, that’s what happens when you count on my brother for reliable shit. Cyrus Monroe didn’t die that night. He died three years later in prison.” Nate planted his hands on Ross’s desk. “Let me break this down for you so you understand how it’s going to go. You come at me again, and that pop I gave you yesterday will look like nothing compared to what they do to you in prison. You so much as even think about Delilah again, and I will make it my life’s mission to dismantle your little production company brick by brick. Nod if you understand me.”

  Ross glared at him mutinously, but slowly his head bobbed up and down.

  “Glad we could come to an understanding.”

  Nate didn’t linger. He still had shit to do. Climbing onto his bike, he made his second trip to Hope that month. In the daylight, the streets were even more familiar. As he made the turn onto Clemons Drive, he could almost smell the lasagna cooking and Sarah yelling for him, Dylan, and Derek to put the skateboards away and wash up for dinner.

  He still had to chuckle at the first family dinner with them. He’d thought they’d been a crazy, multicast of the Cleavers or the Brady’s. Everyone had been so polite. Except Delilah. The moment they sat down to dinner, she hadn’t let up with the questions. Like where did he grow up, where were his parents? But more like what was his favorite food? What music did he listen to? Did he like basketball? What was his favorite team?

  He’d been trying hard back then. And hell, she’d saved his life, so he’d been inclined to answer her questions, the ones he could anyway. He’d never watched a full basketball game. He liked the game but had grown up without access to a television. And even then, she’d understood people enough to know when questions were touchy, and she’d immediately changed the subject.

  It hadn’t been until later in the conversation that John had gotten a word in edgewise. He’d begged her to let Nate eat. Delilah’s answer had astonished all of them. “Well, Dad, if I find out all the good stuff now, the more we’ll all feel like we know him a little and stop acting so weird, like we’re at church, or worse, Grandma’s.”

  John had choked on his beer, and Sarah had poorly stifled a chuckle. Dylan and Derik had just laughed with their mouths full of lasagna. After that, everything was normal. Nate had never thanked her for that. There were a lot of things he hadn’t said.

  Nate pulled up to the house with less trepidation than on Sunday, but his palms were still a little sweaty. As soon as he stepped off the bike he heard John’s singing in the side yard where the roses were—tone deaf as always. Singing along to the Rolling Stones. Nate followed the cacophony of sound with a smile on his face, instantly being transported to his childhood.

  As he rounded the corner, he watched the only father he’d ever known prune the roses he loved so much. “You know, you sound exactly as I remember you.”

  John didn’t even startle. Just kept pruning. “I wondered when you’d come back.” Slowly, the older man stood with his basket and turned to face Nate.

  He’d been expected? Unease settled in his veins. “I’m sorry to disturb you. I probably should have called first.”

  Irritation flashed over John’s pleasant features. “Now, I told you the day you moved in here that this place would be your home for a long as you wanted it. Those words are still true.”

  The bite of shame tasted bitter on Nate’s tongue. "I know. It's just that after the way I left...I didn’t think I had any right to come back."

  John Donovan placed a hand on Nate's shoulder. "You think you're the first one to make a mistake? To think that they no longer have a home? I'm telling you different." The older man sighed, still talking as he led Nate into the house. "You always thought you didn’t deserve to be here. I could see you struggling with it every day. You trying to be on your best behavior, never rocking the boat for fear we'd kick you out or something."

  Nate rolled his shoulders. "I wasn't a fool, J—Mr. D."

  John laughed. "You’re a grown man now, Nate. Hell, you're even bigger than I am and that's no small feat. You can call me John or Dad."

  Nate's eyes stung. He was not going to lose his shit and cry in front of the old man. "Uhm, yeah, thanks.” He drew in a deep breath before he could embarrass himself. "I wanted to talk to you and Sarah privately.”

  "You want a beer? Sarah should be home any minute. She's at the clinic this morning."

  Nate might have imagined it, but he could have sworn John's eyes narrowed a bit when he said clinic. Did he know? "No thank you on the beer. But I'm happy to make coffee if you want some."

  "If you can figure out the fancy coffee maker Sarah forced me into buying, then it's all yours."

  Ten minutes later, Sarah Donovan walked in as they were drinking coffee and talking sports. It felt like the most natural thing in the world to be sitting there in the kitchen chatting with them.

  "So why don’t you tell us the real reason you're here, son?" Once Sarah was seated with her cup of coffee, John wasted no time. Nate respected that.

  "Things were a bit crazy on Sunday, and we didn't get any time to talk really. So, I didn’t get to say what I've been practicing for the last seven years."

  He knew it would be hard to look them in the eyes, but he had to. The moment his gaze met with Sarah’s, he nearly lost his shit. "I'm sorry I left you. I was a coward, who ran, and I'm sorry. I never wanted to leave. Your whole family was kinder to me than I deserved, and I never should have walked out on you without a word. And I never should have walked back in here without saying that."

  Sarah's sobs broke his heart, but he had to get it all out or he'd regret it forever.

  "Why did you go?” she asked.

  "I—" His voice broke. He’d told Delilah the story, but he’d never expected to have to walk through this truth more than once. "My brother. Trent."

  As he recounted the story, Sarah cried silently, her tears making the softest of thwaps on the granite countertop of the island.

  John cleared his throat. "Why didn't you tell us, son? We would have helped you through this. You didn't have to be on your own."

  "You'd already given me more than I thought I deserved. I knew Trent. He was the reason I almost got killed that first night. I didn't want to bring that kind of hell on this family. For years, I've tried to go over it a million times. I keep telling myself it was to protect all of you, but maybe I was protecting myself too. If I’d stayed, you'd have found out just how screwed up I really was. Trent would have made sure of it. I—" He sighed. "I hated leaving. For years, I didn’t think I could come back...until Delilah."

  Sarah shook her head. "Nate, the door was always open. You just didn’t think you deserved to walk through it. We would have understood." She looked down at her hands and picked at her nails. "You know, Delilah looked fo
r you every day. Even when we tried grounding her, she'd take the car afterschool and take one of her brothers to canvas Carson, looking for you. She couldn’t sleep at night, thinking you were out there all alone. "

  Nate's stomach rolled. He didn't need to hear this.

  "She loved you. We all did. But Delilah most of all. She broke a little when you went away."

  Nate's eyes stung, the emotions making him ache all over. "I'm so sorry."

  Sarah lifted her gaze to meet his. "You should make sure she knows that."

  He nodded. "I can do that."

  "So where did you go?" John asked. "We looked for you everywhere."

  This part of the story was easier to tell. "I headed south. Got odd jobs along the way. I eventually stopped moving when I got to Florida."

  John frowned. "Why did you change your name?"

  "I didn’t want Trent finding me. I didn't know if he'd gone through with the threat to tell you about my past or not, and I didn’t want you to find me if he had. I didn't think I'd be able to look you in the face, so I changed it."

  John nodded. "And school?"

  Nate smiled. “Turns out you unlocked a gift inside me. I'm pretty good with computers. I started over in a place no one knew me. But I never forgot about you. When I moved back to New York, I thought about seeing you a thousand times but hadn’t worked up the nerve yet."

  Sarah’s voice was quiet. "So, instead, you donated to the clinic?"

  His gaze snapped to hers, then to John's. "How did you—"

  Sarah put up a hand. "You kids were never as slick about your exploits as you thought you were. When the clinic started getting an influx of money from an anonymous donor who refused to be named or found, I always suspected it might be you."

  John nodded slowly. "We weren’t certain until you walked in here with Delilah. Then we figured it out."

  Sarah gave him a soft smile. "She doesn’t know you love her yet, does she?"

  Nate could only blink as his brain tried to catch up. "I-I-uhm." His gaze slid to John.

  The older man laughed. "You can relax, son. You all are grown. I've known from the get-go how our girl felt about you. You two were young then. Now you're adults. But she loved you even then."

  Lila? She loved him? Absently, he rubbed a hand over his heart, trying to quell the burning sensation. "I don’t know what to say."

  Sarah smiled at him. "You need to stop overthinking it and listen to your heart. Only then will you see the truth.”

  As he was leaving, Dylan’s car pulled into the driveway. Dylan gave him a wide smile. “Hey, man. I didn't know you were coming up here today. I would have suggested we ride together.”

  Nate shrugged. “I had to talk to John and Sarah about some stuff.”

  Dylan studied him closely. “How did things turn out with Michael Ross?”

  “Let’s just say he should be leaving everyone alone from now on.”

  Dylan flashed a grin that was all teeth and no mirth. “Glad to hear it. You on your way to see Delilah now?”

  Even though he steeled himself for it, the mention of her name made his heart squeeze. He missed her. He still didn’t know how he was going to fix things with her but he wasn't giving up. “She’s not too eager to see me right now.”

  Dylan chuckled. “Let me guess. You’re not going to let that stop you?”

  Nate shook his head. “Nope. I’m just working on a strategy.”

  “She should be easy to find. She and Willow started working for themselves, using Delilah’s loft as home base.”

  Good for her. At least she wasn’t giving up after Park and Associates had turned their back on her. “I’m glad to hear that. I know she was worried about what she was going to do.”

  “Not that it’s any of my business, but I know she misses you. Maybe you should do something about it.”

  “I’m already way ahead of you.”

  Chapter 31

  Delilah pulled back the heavy drapes as she checked on the workers laying the floor. The white shiny tile wasn’t what she normally would have chosen, but she loved the design her architect had come up with, so she'd go with the flow. That was her new motto. Oh, she was still fixing things, just not her life anymore. She left that to Willow.

  And in the past week Delilah had been nearly able to make it through a whole hour without thinking about him. Crap. She dug out a dollar and shoved it into her cleanse-my-memories jar.

  Willow looked up from her laptop. "Errant thought?"

  Delilah sighed. "Couldn't help it. I was thinking about how great I was doing by not thinking about him."

  Willow chuckled. "Do you know what you’re going to buy with the money?"

  "Yes, I'm going on vacation. Like an honest to God vacation. To somewhere warm and tropical where I can kick my feet up and have cabana boys bring me fruity rum drinks that make me giggle."

  "Sounds like a plan. Don’t forget my ticket."

  Delilah laughed. "You’re riding in my carry-on."

  "Ouch. And I thought economy class was tough.” Willow studied her closely. "Honestly, I think you’re doing great. And the loft is already coming along. Once they're done, this will be a really awesome live and work space. And we have more clients than we can handle on our own, thanks to your contacts."

  Delilah had to smile. She'd been lucky. As soon as folks realized she'd handled the Manning scandal and people had seen the Today Show press coverage, the calls hadn't stopped. Several management companies and sports and entertainment agencies had contacted her about having her on retainer. She already had six months worth of work. If they kept this up, she and Willow would have to hire someone. Either that, or Willow was going to have to start fixing.

  "So who's the next client?" she asked.

  Willow clapped her hands in glee. "That teen star who posed naked with the male model then took the selfies of them screwing after the shoot. Well, she's trying to get studios to buy her as legit, and she wants your help. Needs it really. She got fired from her last gig, and everyone in entertainment circles have labeled her as a pariah."

  Delilah chewed the inside of her lip. She'd snubbed her nose at these types of assignments before, but the truth of it was that these people needed her help, and she had a knack for it. Besides, once she stopped worrying about making a name for herself and stamping her name all over something important, once she stopped competing with herself, she started having some fun. That, and Willow had instituted a strict no working after six policy.

  As long as she didn’t think about Nate, she could function. Walk around, talk to people, even fix shit. She had complete clarity of mind about problem solving. But when it came to her own life, she couldn’t really get it done. The pain was still there. Some nights it was so bad it had her curling up in a ball to cry. But she wasn't telling Willow that. Her friend thought she was getting better. And she was....better at hiding her pain.

  The mopey depressing thing was so last year anyway. She shook her head and focused on the work in front of her. "Okay, book me an appointment to meet with her. But I want everything you can dig up, down to an ex in high school she could marry on a whim. If we decide to take her on, I don’t want any unpleasant surprises.”

  "Done deal."

  She'd just turned back to her laptop when one of the workers called out her name. "Uhm, sorry to disturb, Miss Donovan, but you have a visitor."

  Delilah glanced at Willow.

  "Don't look at me. I haven't invited any hot lovers over. It would ruin the mystery that is me."

  Delilah rolled her eyes. "You’re ridiculous, you know that?"

  "When are you going to learn that all that sharing is caring crap is doom in a relationship? I like to keep an air of mystery. Keep my men guessing."

  "Just a sec, I’m on my way." Dee closed her laptop and slid off her bunny slippers replacing them with sneakers. One of the advantages to working for yourself with your best friend...comfortable footwear.

  She pulled back the heavy curtain to
find him on the other side.

  "Nate?"

  From her living room, Willow called out, “You owe a dollar to our vacation pool. I mean, I can't believe you made that one so easy. It's like you want to get a suite at the Four Season—" Willow glanced up, and the flow of words stopped.

  Nate’s voice was low. "I'm sorry to disturb you. But can I talk to you for a minute, Delilah?"

  Delilah froze in place. Every instinct she had told her to run into his arms and never let him go. At the very least not until he gave her several orgasms to make up for every night she'd been without one. Then she'd let him go.

  Then her brain took over and reminded her that he wasn’t good for her. That when push came to shove, he would always choose to shut her out. "What do you need, Nate?"

  From behind her, she heard the soft click of Willows laptop, then her friend called out, “I'm going to head to the bakery around the corner, pick up some cannoli or something that bakeries have. I probably won't be back for a while. Maybe all day even. Consider this my day off."

  Dee glowered at Nate. Now he was running off Willow? "Well, we still have work to do."

  "Yeah, but we're way ahead of schedule. Besides, I think you need to talk to him." She assessed Nate, her moss green eyes narrowing. Apparently, she found him lacking.

  Once Willow scooted past them without even a backward glance, Delilah gave Nate her full attention. Okay, fine, so maybe she stared at a spot just past his head to avoid looking at him and falling into those aquamarine eyes. "So, now that you've run off my business partner, why don’t you tell me what you need from me."

  “May I come in?”

  She stepped back. But not because she wanted to feel the heat of him brush past her or take a moment to savor the intoxicating woodsy scent of him. Nope, she wanted him gone. "Okay, say what you have to say, then I'll go find Willow."

  “I want to hire you.”

  Delilah’s brows snapped down. “Are you kidding me right now? After everything, you walk in here, and you want to hire me? I’m sorry, Nate. My dance card’s full.”

  A hint of a smile crossed over his heartbreakingly handsome features. “I can understand that. You’re in high demand. But I won’t take no for an answer.”