Page 19 of Part & Parcel

“What?”

When Nick spoke, his voice had gone hoarse. “It’s just . . . someday I hope you’ll say it back again.”

April 8, 2013

Nick navigated the Rover through the throngs of airport traffic. His phone beeped, and a glance told him that Ty Grady had retrieved his suitcase from baggage claim and was heading outside to wait for him. Nick didn’t bother responding, since he was coming up on the arrivals now.

It didn’t take him long to spot Ty, standing with his bag over his shoulder, phone in hand. He pulled as close as he could and unlocked the doors, not bothering to get out since his knee was still iffy and Ty could handle his own damn bag.

Ty tossed it into the back and slid into the passenger seat. He knocked his shoulder into Nick’s getting in, grinning like the proverbial cat who ate the canary.

“Hey, bud,” Nick greeted, submitting to an awkward, sideways, one-armed hug. “How was the flight?”

Ty shrugged and buckled his seat belt. “Nothing exciting.”

“I’ll take nothing exciting for the rest of our lives,” Nick said as pulled back out into traffic, glancing at Ty again. “Have you let Zane know you landed?”

Ty rolled his eyes, nodding as he settled into the seat and tossed one foot up on the dash. “Yes, Mother. One fucking time I forget, and trust me, I’ll never do it again.”

Nick was chuckling, shaking his head.

“Where’s Doc,” Ty asked, glancing into the backseat pointedly.

Nick’s smile fell and he cleared his throat, wincing. “He went home for a while.”

Ty was silent, and Nick could feel his eyes on him.

“What?” Nick grunted.

“I know he went home for a while. You told me that much on the phone. I guess more pointedly I’m asking, why?”

Nick sighed, glancing in his rearview mirror. “We had a fight.”

“I didn’t think you two were capable of fighting.”

“Neither did we.”

Ty grunted, turning a little in the seat. “You’re either super upset or super drugged. You haven’t even yelled at me for having my foot on the dash.”

“That’s ’cause I don’t really give a shit if your foot’s on the dash.”

“Super drugged, then?”

“Shut up.”

Ty snorted and slid his aviators down his nose so Nick could see him narrowing his eyes.

“I’ll tell you about it between innings,” Nick offered.

“Irish,” Ty said softly, and his voice had lost the teasing note. He took his sunglasses off. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” Nick said with an almost careless shrug. “It was a stupid fight, and once we realized it was stupid, we tried to figure out why it was stupid. We decided it was partly cabin fever. Kelly’d been stuck taking care of me for so long, so we figured a little time apart would do us both good.”

“Been there,” Ty mumbled.

“You and Garrett doing okay?”

“Yeah, we’re solid. He even told me I’m allowed to drink this week, as long as I don’t wind up on the news for doing something stupid.”

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