Nash snapped his fingers. “You shut your goddamn mouth.”
Harrison wouldn’t be silenced. “But she is known to stray from a man’s bed so be warned.”
“You bastard,” I hissed.
“You two-faced sneaky bitch,” he shot back.
Roxie barked from inside the house. It was a wonder none of the neighbors had heard all the racket yet.
“Get out of here,” I said. “Get out of here, Harrison, or I swear I’ll make sure you spend the night in jail.”
“Personally I’d rather make sure he spends the night in the hospital,” Nash growled.
I thought it was a small miracle that the two of them hadn’t come to blows yet. But this situation was ready to explode. I needed to get them apart before something did happen.
“I mean it,” I said and pointed to my phone as if I was getting ready to dial 911.
Harrison let out one last sigh. “We’re not done,” he warned, then got back into his stupid sports car and left.
Nash waited in a tense pose until Harrison’s taillights had turned the corner before reaching for me. “Are you okay?’
“I’m fine.”
“What the fuck happened?”
“We were having an argument.”
“And he just happened to knock you down?”
“No. That was an accident.”
Nash paused, put his hands on his hips and studied me with an expression I couldn’t read in the dark. “What the hell was he doing here? I mean, you haven’t seen him in years, right?”
“No, I haven’t seen him in years. He’s been trying to contact me for weeks and weeks though. Calling, emailing. I ignored him so he decided to come to town and confront me in person.”
“Because he wanted to see Emma?”
“I doubt it.”
“Then he wanted to see you?”
“No. I don’t think that’s it either.”
“How do you know?”
“Because he hates me.”
“Why?”
I lowered my head. “I screwed his brother.”
“What?”
I raised my head and said in a clear voice, “I screwed his brother. Randall was his name. That’s why Harrison hates me.”
Nash said nothing. He just stared at me.
I laughed suddenly, aware that I sounded like a maniac. “But that wasn’t the end of it. I got pregnant with Randall’s baby. And then he died. He was battling an addiction to pain meds, trying to get clean. I thought I could help him. But no one could help him and one night he swallowed too many pills and he fucking died!”
I had to stop because I couldn’t breathe properly. There was a pain in my gut, the memory of a wrenching grief that I’d never dealt with properly. And I wasn’t laughing anymore. Tears coursed down my cheeks now.
“I didn’t know what to do, where to turn. So I forgot every plan I ever had and came back here because I had only one thing left that mattered. Emma. I never told anyone the truth. Even Emma’s birth certificate is a lie. I’m not who you thought I was, Nash. And I know you think I’m repulsive now, that I’m this lying, scheming bitch and you’re right.” I sank down to the grass, gasping between sobs. “You’re right.”
“Kat.”
I heard his voice but I couldn’t respond. I was lost in the collapse of my own carefully constructed shield. I was broken. I couldn’t be fixed tonight.
“Kathleen.”
He was right there on the ground with me and I did not resist at all when I felt his arms pulling me toward the solid warmth of his chest. I stayed there until I was finished gasping out agonized sobs.
Hanging out on the front lawn all night was not an option. After about ten minutes of falling apart all over Nash’s t-shirt while the wet grass soaked through my panties, he urged me to get up.
“Let’s get inside.”
He acted like he was prepared to carry me but I was embarrassed enough as it was so I got to my feet and walked across the front lawn while my wet nightshirt stuck to my thighs.
I opened the front door to find a very perplexed German Shepherd waiting but her confusion switched to tail wagging joy when Nash appeared behind me and held out a hand in greeting.
I stood at the bottom of the stairs. “I don’t hear the kids. They must have slept through all that.”
Nash finished petting Roxie and eyed me while I wished passionately for mind reading skills.
“I’ll go check on them,” he said and nodded to my grass-stained wet pajamas. “Why don’t you take a minute and get cleaned up?”
His voice didn’t sound cold or angry although the great Front Lawn Revelation must have shocked him at least a little. It still shocked me and I was the one who’d revealed it.
I took his advice and sought a change of clothes while Nash looked in on Emma and then visited Colin’s room. The baby monitor was beside the bed in Nash’s room so I could hear him in there while I pulled a tank top and loose shorts out of my overnight bag.
“How’s my favorite little guy?” Nash said softly. “Missed you, kid.” A few seconds later I heard the music of the crib mobile and then Nash’s footsteps heading this way.
He appeared in the doorway, crossed his arms and leaned against the doorframe. He looked tired. And damn good, although this wasn’t the moment for me to be noticing that. He must not have shaved since he left the other night. The dark scruff all over his chin suited him.
“Do you know how many nights I would lie awake in this room wishing I was anywhere else?” he asked.
I sat on the edge of the bed. “No.”
“A lot. And now I can’t remember why. It’s a nice room. A nice house. A nice town.” Nash rubbed his eyes. “Do you want to wait until tomorrow to talk about it?”
“No.”
Nash stared at me. I wondered what he saw now, if it was completely different than what he’d seen the last time we were together.
I stood up. “I can go sleep on the couch.”
“Kat.”
“Or I can just wake Emma up and go home.”
“Stop it.” He stepped inside the room and closed the door. Then he reached around to his back and pulled his shirt over his head before dropping his pants. We were in the midst of something serious but I couldn’t help getting turned on.
Nash pulled the covers of the bed down, got settled and patted the sheet. “Get over here.”
He curled his arm around me immediately and I snuggled close to him. He smelled like soap and sunshine and I sighed as my cheek landed on his chest.
“I’m sorry,” I said, my voice catching. “I didn’t tell you the whole story because I didn’t tell anyone. My relationship with Harrison was never great. He was unfaithful and controlling and by the time we broke up I despised him. But Randall…”
My voice trailed off as I thought about the gentle half of the Corbett brothers. Randall was a year older and didn’t have Harrison’s arrogant brand of charm. He was quieter, more serious. Everyone thought he had one of the best chances on the team to go pro. Then a knee injury after a hard tackle sent him to the sidelines and a string of surgeries left him unable to kick a painkiller habit. I didn’t have any romantic feelings for Randall, not then. My focus, my infatuation, was entirely centered on Harrison. But Randall and I were friends. I worried about him. I urged his brother to worry about him but Harrison only brushed aside any concerns with sarcastic comments.