Page 53 of The Meaning Of You

Glassy grey eyes shot back to mine and their bleak desolation rattled me. “Then again, it might beexactlywhat I think.” He stared right through me, then looked away.

And maybe he was right. I’d only known Davis through Nick, and I didn’t know Nick that well, not enough to make guesses about his marriage, leastways.

Nick’s gaze dropped to the water bottle in his hands. Crickets chirped in the hedge that bordered the backyard. And two paddocks over, Tony Ferguson’s angus bull bellowed endearments to his group of bovine admirers. And through it all, the cloying summer heat swallowed every drop of energy left in the day.

Nick looked so fucking sad, I couldn’t take my eyes from him. Like someone had ripped his heart from his chest, and I guess in some ways they had. Even if the whole thing wasn’t what Nick thought, Davis had still kept secrets from him and Nick’s belief in their relationship had been brutally shaken. I couldn’t pretend to know how that felt, but I sure read the devastation written clear across Nick’s face.

“So, who hit you, then?” I circled back.

Nick looked up. “What?”

I tapped my jaw.

“Oh.” He rolled his eyes. “Some arsehole jumped me at the caravan.”

“What?” I blinked, not believing what I was hearing. “You were robbed again?”

He waggled his hand. “More like an opportunistic mugging. The jerk was waiting when I stepped out of the caravan. Apparently, Clark’s Beach has had a few issues this summer. Some local walking on the beach saw it happen and scared the guy off. He grabbed the box I was carrying with Davis’s stuff, including the laptop, but that was it. Could’ve been worse, I suppose.”

I stared at him, gobsmacked. “Could’ve been worse? Are you on drugs? What the fuck, Nick?”

All he did was shrug, but the way his gaze slid off mine told me he was more worried than he was letting on.

“So, notthatbox, I take it?” I nodded to the one by his feet.

He shook his head. “No, that was still in the Audi. It’s all the stuff they found during the accident investigation. The guy couldn’t have had time to check the car before I came out.”

What were the odds of so much happening to one man in just a few months? Nope, something was definitely off. I stood, my shirt clinging like a limpet to my damp skin. “I don’t buy the random thing, and I don’t think you do either. But I’m alsonot having that conversation out here.Bring that box into the air conditioning and show me what you’ve got.”

He frowned. “I don’t like air?—”

“Zip it.” I stabbed a finger his way. “I refuse to melt into a puddle just to humour your irrational fear. Get your butt inside or leave. Your choice. Still walking, by the way.”

His jaw ticked menacingly. “What’s in the box is none of your damn business.”

I rolled my eyes. “Of course not. That’s why you brought it from the car to my deck, just so you can refuse to show it to me.Now shut the fuck up and park your belligerent arse inside on my sofa. You can hang your hat on the rack just inside the door.” And with that, I left him standing there and headed inside. He’d come or he wouldn’t. Stubborn fucker.

The cool interior lit up my skin like stepping out of a sauna, and my lungs did a little happy dance in my chest. I was almost to the kitchen when I heard Nick muttering something no doubt rude, and I turned to find him hanging his hat as instructed. I swallowed a smile.

When Nick caught me watching, he scowled. “Jerk.”

I couldn’t help but laugh, which only deepened his scowl. “Take a seat.” I gestured toward the larger of two couches and he collapsed onto its soft cushions with a groan of relief that sparked a warm surge in my belly.

My visceral reaction to the man had passed the point of borderline discourteous and was well on the way to unconscionable perving. But since it wasn’t a button that I could simply turn off, I didn’t know quite what to do about it. Bury it, seemed appropriate, not to mention timely, so that’s what I did.

Or tried to.

But the sight of him spreadeagle on my couch, eyes closed, looking all kinds of hot and wilted and sexy, was hard to ignore. I cleared my throat. “Tell me again how much you hate air conditioning?”

He flipped me off without opening his eyes.

“Yeah, I thought so.” I let him be and headed for the kitchen. “I’ll bring us a cold drink and then you can show me what’s in that box.”

“Make that drink a beer and I might consider it.”

I huffed. “Yeah, I’ll get right on that... not. Water. We’re both dehydrated.”

He groaned and called after me, “How about a coffee?”

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