Chapter 18

Tasha opened her eyes almost irritably when she heard the sound of breaking glass from outside the bathroom door. She had just gotten into the tub not ten minutes before and now she’d have to get out to investigate the source of the noise.

Just when her mood was changing from confused to…well, still confused but more relaxed.

She was hoping the bath would rid her of the anger she left the studio with.  Ten minutes barely assuaged the confusion from Nick’s words as well as the exhaustion from the emotionally draining confession.

Tasha sank deeper into the bubbles, drank what was left of her wine and closed her eyes. She’ll deal with whatever it was after her bath, she decided. It can wait.

“I’m sorry for hurting you, Tash. But this can’t go further than friendship. You deserve better than someone like me.”

 Sighing, she bent her neck to the side and tried to clear her head. As much as she’d like to prove Nick wrong, he had too many demons he needed to work through before he can even see her as something other than guilt.

It would’ve been easier to be angry at him if she didn’t understand where he was coming from. She understood all too well the feeling of responsibility, of not screwing up.

But because she knew exactly how he felt: about moving on from Faith, about being the best father to Matty, she couldn’t blame him for wanting to take a step back from her.

What is this attraction she had for unavailable people? Four years in Montreal cured her of her regret over Belinda. But Nick? Wonderful, heroic, strong Nick...this was a whole new playing field.

A part of her really wished they could go back in time and just NOT sleep together. Things would be much simpler and their friendship wouldn’t be...well, ruined. But here they were now, navigating the awkward aftermath of the events in Baltimore.

She heard her cellphone ring from the other side of the bathroom and straightened in the tub. Checking the clock on the far wall, she was pretty sure no one would be calling her at three in the morning. Unless...

Tasha bolted out of the tub, her heart racing, and grabbed her phone in seconds. If it was the hospital, her dad may have had a relapse.

“Hello---”

“Tasha, are you in your room?” She recognized JC’s voice in spite of the heavy breathing.

“Yes, I’m in the bathr---”

The next thing she knew, the bathroom door was shoved open and Nick catapulted in, his eyes wild with alarm.

In surprise, Tasha dropped her phone and grabbed a nearby towel to wrap herself with. “Nick, what the hell...”

“We need to get out of here right now,” he said, not even noticing her state of undress. He lifted her in his arms like she weighed nothing. “Your room is on fire.”

“Wait, put me down. I can walk...”

He silenced her with a rough kiss, his hold on her waist tightening as if reassuring himself that she was really there.

“There’s glass on the floor,” he said against her ear when he pulled away. She felt him grab her clothes from the dresser next to them and ran out back into her room.

And he wasn’t kidding. The fire was blazing from her balcony curtains and had extended to the lounger next to it.

It was too much to take in. She looked at Nick in growing panic and held onto his shoulders for her life.

“Don’t breathe. We're almost out. Hang on.”

Tasha’s eyes closed shut and she hung onto Nick tightly. He headed for the door to the hallway and quickly opened it. As soon as they stepped out onto the hallway, Nick pulled the fire alarm next to her door and set her down gently.

The towel that covered most of her front started slipping and Nick, gentleman that he was, helped her wrap it around her body and made sure it was secure.

It was at that point she noticed his cheeks covered almost completely with soot. She raised her hand to his cheek and he covered it with his.

“Tash, I need you to go to the house right now.” Nick told her amidst the blaring of the alarm. He handed her her clothes. “Before the fire gets worse.”

“What about you?”

He shook his head as he pulled the fire extinguisher off the wall. “I need to try and douse the flames.” He urged her gently to the direction of the stairs. “Go on, JC’s waiting for you.”

“No.” She looked at him straight in the eye. “Either we both stay or we both go.”

Nick shook his head. “Tash, just go so I don’t worry myself to death.” The overwhelming smell of smoke was getting stronger every passing second. “Damon!” Nick called out from behind her, eyes red at the smoke in the air. She turned to see the larger man running up the stairs a few feet away. “Take her to the house, now.”

For a massively muscular man, Damon sure moved fast. But before the other man reached her, she turned to Nick and pulled his head to her. “If you care for me even a little bit,” she said against his ear, grasping the back of his head tightly, “You won’t try to be a hero and come back to me in one piece. Please.”

She heard him draw a breath a split second before pulling away. When she let him go, he nodded solemnly as Damon pulled her further and further away from him.

The last image of Nick she saw was him pulling his shirt up against the bridge of his nose and walking back into her room, at the same time pulling the pin from the fire extinguisher.

In the distance, the sound of sirens failed to alleviate her growing sense of dread.

******

He wasn’t really a baby when it came to pain or injuries. Lord knew he’d been a klutz all his life and endured many a broken bone and ripped flesh. But right now, he wanted to scream bloody murder.

Or in this case, COMMIT murder.

“Damon, you asshole, are you trying to kill me?” Nick muttered through clenched teeth, trying his hardest to not punch the older man in the face as another sharp jolt of pain went through his leg.

Damon looked up from his cursory examination of Nick’s foot and rolled his eyes. “Don’t be a baby. I just made sure your bandage was nice and tight. Chill out.”

“Do you have a medical degree? I don’t think so. Stop touching my foot.”

Damon stood up and unceremoniously dropped Nick’s injured right foot, wrapped in a fresh bandage, making it hit the steely cold side of the examination table.

He jumped up from where he sat. “JESUS F---” Nick bit his tongue as the curtains separating the examination room from the ER waiting room opened.

Tasha smiled knowingly as she walked to them. “Damon, stop torturing the patient,” she playfully admonished, “Even if he IS acting like a baby.”

He didn’t care if his face was all red from trying to keep his painful screaming at bay. Tasha walking into the room just made him forget everything.

Her dark hair was tied in a haphazard ponytail that bounced as she walked. She wore an old NSYNC t-shirt (no doubt from JC) and the shorts that he managed to pull off her bathroom counter. The whole look would’ve made anyone seem younger, more innocent. But on Tasha, no. His thoughts went from pain to ripping the t-shirt off and inviting her to join him on the examination table. Every single thought ended with her naked and in his arms.

Nick swallowed and cursed inwardly as he felt the not-so-faint stirring of an erection. Focus on the blood loss, Carter. Focus on the blood loss.

“Lattes, as requested, for my rescuers.” Handing a steaming cup of Starbucks coffee to Damon, she said, “The detectives are outside looking for you, D.”

Damon nodded as he moved toward the exit. “Is the cop still on the other side of that curtain?”

She nodded. “Guarding us diligently.”

“And he went with you to Starbucks?”

Tasha sighed before nodding again. “You know he did. I had to have a talk with him about personal space. He was breathing down my neck. Literally. Through his mouth. ”

“Good. You two behave. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

As soon as the other man left, Tasha’s attention was on him.

Her brown eyes zeroed in on his and he was a goner.

“You holding up okay?” she asked, her eyes full of concern as she came closer.

He nodded. “I’m fine.”

She grinned. “Girly screaming notwithstanding?”

He couldn’t help but smile back. “Careful now, I can sic the mouth breather on you.”

Her smile widened as she handed him his coffee. “I got you a skinny mocha. I figure you deserved a treat after all the heroics from this morning,” she said as he took the warm beverage. “It’s decaf though. You’ll be getting painkillers soon and caffeine may just keep you up.”

He nodded, his eyes not leaving hers. “You should’ve let the paramedics look at you, just to make sure you’re alright. Or at the very least, make sure you didn’t suffer from too much smoke inhalation.”

Her smile slipped before she shook her head. “Nick, I got out of there in time, thanks to you. You’re the one with the injured foot and burns on your arm,” she said softly, touching the bandages covering most of the tattoos and part of his shoulder tentatively.

He couldn’t help but follow the path her fingers made down his arm with his eyes. Her touch was soft, hesitant and, after hearing a slight hitch in her breath, too damn close. He took a quick drink from his coffee. “Did you, uh, get to call the house?”

“Yes,” she answered, her eyes still investigating the bandages, even though she had pulled her hand away. “Matty is back asleep and staying in JC’s room with him. The fire marshall just left and the insurance guys will be there in a couple of hours investigating the damage. I told JC we should be back by then.”

“And Mike? Is he there?” Nick asked, referring to the label’s head of security.

“Yes and he’s working with the police to figure out who threw that bottle through the balcony door.”

By the time the firemen and police got to the Compound, Nick and the other guys in his security team (who had come right behind Damon) had the blaze under control. It had still cost Nick some stitches on the side of his right foot from all the broken glass as well as second degree burns on his arm from running through the inflamed curtains to get to Tasha.

The police did confirm that the incendiary device tossed through Tasha’s balcony door was a homemade Molotov cocktail: a glass bottle filled with gasoline and a lit cloth wick. As soon as it made contact with the balcony glass door and broke, fire quickly spread throughout Tasha’s suite.

Unfortunately, no one could find the source of the fire. Damon’s team had been going through the Compound security tapes as well as combing the property for any clues to who it was, but it soon felt like Nick had made him up. There was no sign of an unauthorized person, not even footprints. If JC didn’t corroborate the story, Nick would’ve thought he was crazy.

Ultimately, the police decided, whoever it was that started the fire, was after Tasha and in the worst possible way.

Looking at Tasha now, she seemed unconcerned at the attempt on her life and more focused on him. He wasn’t complaining...at least not really. But this whole evening made him worried that the craziness had escalated quicker than either of them had even prepared for.

“Tash,” Nick said softly, his hand curving slightly on her shoulder to get her attention. “Can you look at me for a minute? We need to talk about this.”

She raised her head and gave him a slight frown when her eyes connected with his. “I was hoping I didn’t need to think about this until we got home.”

Nick’s mouth formed a thin line of concern. “Someone tried to burn you alive, Tash. We need to figure out who did it and why.”

She shook her head. “A part of me still doesn’t believe it, Nick. I mean, what did I ever do to warrant that kind of attention?”

“People have done more damage for less, Tash,” he said grimly. “The police are on the case and Leigh is handling the press. In the meantime, I need you to stay with me, at the house, while the investigation is ongoing. Okay?”

Tasha nodded and bit the inside of her lip.

“And no more talk about moving out of the Compound, at least in the next few days. Deal?”

She gave him a wry grin. “Deal.”

“We’ll finish your last few songs in the studio and talk about your show in Vegas next week. And Damon and I are teaching you some self defense moves.” Looking down at his bandaged foot, he gave her a wry grin. “Well, when I’m back on my feet, at least.”

Tasha opened her mouth to protest but Nick cut her off. “Security won’t be around forever. You need to be able to defend yourself if Damon and I aren’t around.”

“What about Matty? If I stay with you, won’t he be in danger too?”

Nick shook his head. “Don’t worry about Matty. Carter men can defend our women.”

That earned him a surprised smile from Tasha. “Barbarians, the lot of you.”

He was laughing as he pulled on her hand and entwined his fingers through hers. “Okay? To everything I said?”

She hesitated for a few heartbeats and nodded. Then she moved closer to Nick and tried to rub the few bits of soot off his face.

“What you did for me today...saving me like that,” Tasha said, her gaze on his cheek. “I don’t know how I could ever thank you. If you didn’t come when you did...”

Nick shook his head. “Don’t. It was purely a selfish act on my part, trust me,” he said, pulling her closer. “After all, there was no way I was going to lose my studio sparring partner that easily.”

Surprised at his playful answer, Tasha pulled her hand away and looked straight into his eyes with a grin. “Arguing turns you on, doesn’t it? Why am I not surprised.”

He returned her smile with his own playful one. He missed this, just the two of them, bantering, joking around...just the easy energy. And he missed having her so close. Right now, he could almost...

“I miss you.”

Nick blinked as Tasha said the same words he wanted to say. His eyes zeroed in on hers while her lips formed a half smile.

“I’m still...disappointed in everything that happened, don’t get me wrong. But I miss you. This. It used to be so easy between you and me.”

He nodded in understanding, touching her face. “Uncomplicated.”

“Fun.”

“And flirty. And fantastic.”

Tasha’s grin widened. “I always knew you were a poet.”

Nick laughed out loud and added, “You bring it out of me, Tash.” With a smile, he pulled her into his arms and dropped a kiss on the top of her head, briefly, softly. It was a kiss of apology, of promises. It said everything he couldn’t, at least for now.

*********

“I’m fine, Dad. Nick got me out just in time.” Tasha said as she sat down on the bed in the Marilyn room. The alarm company had just replaced her windows temporarily with bulletproof glass and kept it locked and secured. Mike and Nick had inspected signed off on the work as well as supervised the sealing of the other windows and doors to the house.

“Ashy, look!” Matty pointed to the big blue blob he had drawn on her iPad and smiled proudly. “Is puppy. Is blue!”

She smiled down at the toddler, who had promptly crawled next to her from his spot in the middle of the bed. “Wow, that’s a cool puppy, Matty. But who’s the puppy going to play with?”

He gave her a thoughtful look and nodded. “Make more puppy!” he said, before going back to his drawing.

“Are you staying somewhere safe? Maybe you should come back home. It’s safer here and...” her dad said over the phone, concern evident in his voice.

“Dad, Nick and I have it under control. And besides, I’m on a tight schedule to finish my album before I start my shows. I will see you in a few weeks though. Hang in there for me? In the meantime, Mike spoke to the Baltimore police and they have a plainclothes officer guarding you for the next little while. Just in case.”

“I’m worried about you, pumpkin.”

“Daddy, I promise I’m fine. I’ll call you everyday and keep you posted, okay? You focus on getting better.”

“You’ll be here for my next physical?”

She knew he was nervous in spite of the fact that he was getting better. The results of the physical will determine the next course of medication and treatment he was going to receive, and if it was good, that meant he only had a few weeks of maintenance medication before he was allowed to go home. If it was bad, then it meant possibly another three months of treatment.

“I wouldn’t miss it for anything, pops.”

As they talked for a few more minutes, she kept an eye on Matty’s new masterpiece. This kid really had Nick’s creativity, no question. At two years old, he was already drawing landscapes (at least she thought they looked like landscapes).

“Is Nick around anywhere? I need to update him on my conversation with his lawyers earlier today,” her dad asked, his voice shifting to professional mode.

“I think Nick’s downstairs, Dad, I can get him to---”

“I’m right here,” Nick said, walking into the room looking way too tired. He gave her a nod. “Is that your dad on the phone?”

“Yes, he has an update for you from the lawyers.”

Nick took the iPhone from her hand and collapsed on the bed next to Matty. “Mr. Callaghan. It’s Nick. You had some--oh of course. Jeff. You had an update for me?”

As Nick and her dad spoke, Tasha observed distractedly as he raised his bandaged foot slowly up the bed. He gave a slight frown, she assumed from the pain, but he remained focused on his conversation.  His normally tamed hair was standing on end, presumably from him running his fingers through it all day. Most importantly, his face reflected exhaustion. They’d been home for ten hours now and while she had a chance to catch up on some sleep, Nick had worked through the day with the police, his own security and the alarm company to make the beach house a veritable fortress.

She doubted he even had a chance to eat all day let alone take some pills for the pain.

“Do I have something on my face?”

Tasha snapped out of her reverie to see Nick wiping his cheeks of imaginary dirt as he put the phone down. “Oh. No. Sorry. I was just thinking.”

“About?”

“Erm. What did Dad say?”

Nick’s mouth slowly formed a knowing smile. “Really? You weren’t just thinking that. You had your ‘Nick’s going to think I’m meddling but I’ll say it anyway’ face.”

Tasha blinked and tried to look offended. “I don’t make a face like that.”

“Oh like you’re not making the ‘Jesus, I’m lying through my teeth’ face right now, huh?” His smile had blown into a grin.

She rolled her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest. “You’re a poopie head.”

Beside her, Matty started giggling.

“You agree, don’t you, Matty?” Tasha pulled the toddler onto her lap and hugged him tight. “Daddy’s a poopie head?”

“Yes!” Matty burst into a renewed fit of laughter. “Daddy poopie!”

Nick raised his hand. “Hey hey. Come on now. In this family, we address each other with respect.” He sat up on the bed and tried to look menacing, his arms on his waist.

Tasha raised an eyebrow.

“That’s MR. Poopie head to you.”

Matty’s giggles were contagious. Pretty soon Tasha was laughing at the sheer happiness in the child’s voice and Nick soon followed.

“Poopie daddy,” Matty said in between giggles, burrowing himself against Tasha, as Nick pretended to growl menacingly at his son, pretending to have claws, ready to attack. “No, Daddy, no ticko!”

There was a glint in Nick’s eye as he crawled toward both of them, his eyes zeroing on her. She scrambled to move away, Matty’s squeals of glee from her lap distracting her temporarily from her mission. She wanted to keep as much distance between her and Nick before she drowned in those dangerous eyes again, and do something she’d ultimately regret.

As Nick got closer and the edge of the bed stopped her from moving any further, Tasha made the mistake of looking straight into Nick’s deep blues. Her breath caught in her throat as he gave her a wolfish grin. “Oh no, no, no. No tickles for me, you evil evil man,” she said -- breathed -- as she gave him the sternest look she could’ve ever managed, considering the circumstances.

Underneath her skin though, her pulse was racing.

Just as Nick sprung forward to grab both of them (for tickles, presumably), Matty chose that time to launch himself off her lap and back onto the bed to avoid his father, making Nick fall straight onto...well, HER.

She yelped as both of them fell off the bed, from the sheer force of his playful “attack”, in the process bumping his injured foot on the bedpost.

As they landed--on the carpet thankfully--she heard him suck in a breath and tighten his hold on her. Quickly rolling to his back and taking her with him, he effectively lessened the impact of the drop on her shoulder and made sure her weight was on him and not the carpet.

Tasha scrambled off him as soon as she could, understanding clearly that he could’ve jostled his bandages as well as landed on his burns.

As soon as she sat up, she touched his bandage covered right arm, and looked at his foot for any obvious sign of blood and...

A blur in green and blue pajamas, Matty decided at that point to jump off the bed and land on his father’s stomach, bottom first.

Nick released the breath he’d been clearly holding and opened his eyes wide in surprise.

Oblivious to his father’s discomfort, Matty continued laughing, settled on Nick and announced, “Ticko fye!!” before proceeding to jab his little fingers on Nick’s sides.

“Oh, Matty, baby,” Tasha started, trying to pull the toddler off Nick, “Daddy can’t...”

“Oh Daddy definitely can,” Nick said, his evil grin identical to Matty’s. To her amazement, Nick’s initial look of pain had turned quickly into mischief as he treated his son to the most enthusiastic tickle fight known to man.

Tasha blinked and wondered if he DID have his painkillers after all. This man had the same energy as his 2 year old. He can’t be sane. Or at least off meds.

And really, would they have spared Tasha? She was still trying to wrap her head around his quick recovery from the fall when the duo turned to her and launched an arsenal of tickle torture tactics that had her collapsing on the floor, protecting her sensitive areas from attack, scream-laughing while they did it.

“You guys, I’m going to pee my pants, stop,” she begged breathlessly, as she tried--unsuccessfully--to roll away from Nick and Matty. Nick’s hold on her hip was solid.

Nick’s smile was all teeth. “Are you crying ‘uncle’? Because clearly,” he said, his fingers snaking up her side, inadvertently touching a sensitive part of her waist. “You’re no tickle ninja.”

Busy as she was trying to get away from him, she caught the playful glint in his eye and laughed in spite of herself.

“Tashy need diapo!” Matty declared, crawling in between her and Nick and playfully started jabbing her just under her arms in a move that was classic tickle mastery. “Matty ticko king!”

She tried to squirm away, she did. But when that failed, she gave up the fight and pulled Matty off her, sat up and dropped a raspberry on the little boy’s tummy.

His squeals were like music to her ears. And Nick’s apparently, as he collapsed next to her and smiled at the picture the two of them must have made, trying to catch his own breath.

“Tashy inna wowa,” Matty gasped as he laughed, clearly overjoyed at the turn of events, he didn’t care if he was understood.

“Right back atcha, dude,” Tasha said, putting Matty down and back on her lap. Turning her head to Nick, she was just about to make a sassy comment about his weak ninja skills when the look on his face took her breath away.

His gaze was on her, intently, almost as if he was having an internal monologue with himself, his eyes searing into hers. He’d never looked at her this way before, not with this much...longing.

“Well this looks cozy,” JC drawled from the doorway, making the three of them look up in surprise.

“Unca C! Matty ticko king!” Matty raised his hands in triumph.

“Tickle king, huh? You get that from me,” JC answered with a smile. “And as for you two losers, break it up. Mike and the Doroughs are here and they need you two downstairs. There seem to be new developments.” He also cocked his head, indicating he wanted them to hurry up. “Also, Howie brought dinner, and I’m hungry, bro.”

Tasha felt Nick stiffen against her as he sat up. “Good developments or bad?” he asked JC.

He shrugged. “I’m not sure. I guess that’s why they want to talk.” He turned to Tasha who had hopped up and was now helping Nick on his feet. “Leigh said she bought some ‘Whole Foods approved vegan shit’ for you.” JC grinned. “Her words, not mine.”

She smiled at JC but saw Nick wince then grit his teeth as he straightened and picked up Matty, who wanted to be carried.

“Come on,” Nick said, any trace of playfulness gone and in its place a seriousness that she’d come to know as his stubborn determination to get his way. “We shouldn’t keep them waiting.”

As he led the charge out of the Marilyn room, JC pulled Tasha aside, making sure Nick was well beyond earshot.

“What was that?”

Tasha looked at him, confused. “What was what?”

Nick came back into the room, realizing, she guessed, that they weren’t following behind him. “Are you guys coming?”

Nodding, JC said, “We’ll be down in a minute.”

Nick gave Tasha a quick glance and nodded. “Don’t be too long,” he said curtly before disappearing with Matty.

JC turned back to her with a look that could only be described as curious. “That smoldering look Nick was giving you. Are you two back on?”

Tasha shrugged and refused to meet his eyes. “I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she replied, walking back to the bed and grabbing her abandoned phone.

Leaning against the bedpost, JC raised an eyebrow. “Liar liar, pants on fire,” he sang with a knowing grin.

“It was just a look, C,” she answered, rolling her eyes at him. “It doesn’t mean anything.”

JC crossed his arms over his chest. “Tasha. Please. It’s me you’re talking to. I call bullshit.”

“YOU’RE bullshit,” she said, sticking her tongue out at him, at the same time collapsing on the bed, betraying her casual answer.

“Tash?” he asked, concerned as he sat next to her.

“Today was confusing, JC. I’m just trying to wrap my head around it, that’s all.” she said quietly, her gaze focused on the hands on her lap. “He says he can’t be with me but today...today he saved me.”

She looked up at him with uncertainty. “What if he changed his mind? What if he---”

JC shook his head and took her hands in his. “Baby. Listen to yourself. Do you really want someone who’s still in love with someone else?”

She sighed and fell back on the bed. “What if he doesn’t really love her? What if he’s hanging onto her because he doesn’t know anything else?”

“Tasha...”

She shook her head and closed her eyes. “I know. I’m being ridiculous. I just...” She opened her deep brown eyes and stared at JC’s concerned blues. “He deserves to be happy, JC. He makes others happy...why can’t he take that for himself?”

She saw JC nod, and frown. It seemed like hours but he spoke again, this time, as he stood up and offered his hand to her. “I need to show you something. Will you come with me?”

Tasha hesitated for a few heartbeats then took his hand and allowed him to pull her up. Clasping her hand tightly in his, they walked out of the Marilyn room to the other end of the hallway...to Nick’s bedroom.

She hesitated at the dark doorway. “JC, I don’t think Nick would like this.”

JC tightened his hold on her hand as he pulled it closer, just as he pulled her through the darkness.

The first thing that assailed Tasha’s senses was the smell of Nick: the musky, woodsy scent that wrapped around her when he was near, the smell of fresh soap and sweat when they were together in the dark.

Then, JC turned the lights on.

And what she saw was the last thing she expected.

The massive master suite was filled with comfortable, soft furniture: the fabric chaise by the window, the printed headboard, the tall four poster king sized bed.

But that wasn’t what surprised her. What surprised her was the amount of feminine touches that seemed to be everywhere, from the floral throws on the chaise, to the light lacy curtains to the pastel tinted duvet that covered the bed.

And atop the headboard was a massive photograph that spanned the entire wall: Nick and Faith’s wedding photo.

God they were a beautiful couple. Faith’s flowing blonde hair was done up in a loose updo but a few curls hung on the side of her face. She was laughing at something off camera, leaning into Nick as her eyes shimmered with glee. Nick had an arm around her waist and his head propped on her shoulder, nuzzling her neck with his eyes closed in loving ecstasy.

He seemed happy, the happiest she’d ever seen him. As Tasha walked over to the side of the bed hesitantly, feeling her heart sinking, she realized that whatever delusions she had about Nick being her hero...he was Faith’s first.

“He hasn’t changed anything in here, Tash, since Faith died.” JC’s voice was quiet but carried throughout the whole room. “He’s just living, suspended in time.”

“Nothing? Not even--”

JC shook his head pretty quickly. “You see that pile of paper on the dresser there?” he asked, pointing to the other end of the room. “That was a pile of receipts Faith had taken out of her purse the last time they were here. And that book open face down on the bedside table? She had been reading that before they left.”

JC walked to the chaise near the window. “And this?” he said, touching a silk robe draped on the back. “This was hers. And it hasn’t moved in two years. NICK hasn’t moved it in two years.”

Unbidden, Tasha’s eyes filled with tears. She gritted her teeth to keep them from falling but her heart was aching for him, for this pain that was clearly still in his life.

“He blames himself, you know.” JC said, looking out the window, not noticing the torment that Tasha was going through. “For her death. He’s never forgiven himself.”

“Why?”

He turned and his sad eyes connected with her own.  “I don’t know. You’ll probably need to ask him yourself.”

As he walked toward her, she asked, “Do you miss her?”

“Every day. But right now, I miss Nick more,” JC declared quietly. “Sometimes, when he’s with you, I see his old playful self and wish to God that he’d let himself go and be happy.”

Tasha looked around and then back to JC. “But he’s not ready.”

He clutched her upper arms. “That’s what I’m trying to tell you, Tash. I don’t want you waiting for him to realize he loves you. Because he’s stuck in a time warp and nobody can take him out of there but himself.”

Her heart hurt. It was tough facing the truth but here it was. Her hero, the man she thought she loved, was still grieving and until he forgave himself, there was no chance at all for the two of them.

“Baby, Nick is a good guy. He will never intentionally hurt you. But you need to move on from him, for your own good. He will fight for you when he’s fought his own demons.”

JC was right, of course. JC was always right. She collapsed against his chest as he pulled her into a rough embrace.

As a tear rolled down her cheek, JC ran her hand up and down her back, a small comforting gesture.

“But I’m right here, Tash. Always. Okay?”

She nodded and held him tight. She should be grateful for having such a good friend in JC but right now, all she could think about was how, after tonight, everything in Baltimore made sense: his rudeness before he left, his discomfort at running into his in laws...the ring that was back on his finger.

Her chest tightened with emotion. Not for her but for his pain and hoped to God that he found the strength to heal.