Falling For Nick (36 page)

A cold March sun shone over the crowd of mourners at the Port Bliss Cemetery. Under their feet a carpet of freshly mowed spring grass scented the air. Overhead a seagull stretched its wings, a brilliant white against the indigo sky.

At the graveside of Senator Bloomfield, Clea sat with John next to her, Nick on his other side. Although John had thought of the senator as his grandfather, it had been a shock for John to learn the truth. Clea had explained Nick's parentage to John, but she knew John had questions, questions she'd hoped Nick would help answer, but he'd been upset and distant since the senator's death. She'd struggled over letting John attend the funeral, but he'd asked to come, and she hadn't wanted to deny him the chance to say good-bye.

Clea glanced over at Nick. His jaw was tensed. Clean-shaven and dressed in a black suit, he looked vulnerable, yet so hard and bitter. She longed to pull him into her arms and give him comfort, but she'd tried that when the senator had died; Nick had pulled away, leaving Clea heartbroken and confused all over again. Would the timing ever be right for them?

In the space of a few weeks Nick had lost his mother and his father, parents who were strangers to him. Clea knew their deaths were as painful for him as they would have been had they been close. He'd withdrawn from her since the boathouse. His rejection of the comfort she wanted to give him stung, but a part of her could understand it. He'd suffered a life altering shock when he'd learned that the senator was his father.

She had no idea how to make things better between them before she left for New York. Her things were packed, her tickets purchased. She should be happy, but inside she mourned for Nick. She didn't want to leave him behind, but he hadn't asked her to stay.

She looked over at Robert. He sat a few rows ahead of them, his head bowed, his expression hidden. He'd been arrested after his confession. Free on bail, he faced charges of concealing evidence, but because the crime was committed when he was a juvenile it seemed doubtful he'd serve any jail time.

To Robert's left sat his mother. A black veil covered Ellen Bloomfield's face, hiding her grief from the small group gathered here. Shamed by her husband's infidelity and her son's part in Danny's death, she'd kept the service small and private. She hadn't spoken to Nick, but she hadn't stopped him from attending the funeral. Maybe Ellen realized they'd all lost too much already.

Clea tried to focus on the eulogy, but her mind kept straying to Nick and Robert and Billy. She had no illusions that Nick and Robert would ever be friends, but she hoped they wouldn't remain enemies. Billy had his own demons to face. He'd gone in for questioning, but no formal charges had been filed. She knew Nick worried about his brother, but the time had come for Billy to figure things out on his own. It was the only way he'd ever be free of his haunting past.

The service concluded and everyone stood. Immediately Robert and his mother were whisked away by a waiting limousine. Clea stood and took John's hand.

"Are you ready to go?" she asked Nick.

"In a minute," he said, his voice hoarse with emotion. "You two go on."

Clea didn't want to leave him, but she smiled at John and they walked to the car. When they reached the car, they waited outside in the sunshine for Nick. He left the senator's grave and walked a few yards away to where Maude was buried. He stayed at Maude's grave so long Clea began to worry.

"When's he going to come?" John asked.

"I don't know. I think he's saying good-bye to his mother," Clea said, her heart aching for Nick. "I'm sure he just needs a few more minutes."

John continued to study his father, and Clea couldn't begin to imagine what her son was thinking. Could he even wrap his mind around the fact that Senator Bloomfield had been Nick's father? She'd explained Danny's death to him, telling him about Billy and Robert's parts in that night. John understood that Nick hadn't killed Danny, that he'd gone to prison to protect his brother. She'd expected him to be angry with Robert, but instead John had withdrawn into himself, increasing her worry over taking him to New York.

John pushed away from her, walking toward Nick. Clea started to call for him to come back, but decided against it.

When John reached his father's side, Nick turned and looked down at his son. John said something, but Clea couldn't hear him. Then the boy reached for Nick's hand. They stood together, holding hands, John and Nick, father and son. Clea's eyes filled with tears.

Maybe they needed each other more than they let on. How could she take John away from his father? Did she even want to make the move permanent, or did she want to come back to Port Bliss after the internship ended?

She'd waited for Nick to ask her to stay. Maybe she'd waited too long. If she wanted Nick she had to fight for him this time. And she intended to do just that.

Nick pulled into the parking lot at the Tacoma Dome and turned off the Mustang's engine. He glanced over at John. The boy had been silent during the ride to Tacoma. So much had happened the past week. He had no idea how to talk to John about the senator's death or about his own plans for the future. How much could the kid really understand? Time was running out.

Nick glanced at the rearview mirror, watching Billy as he pulled into the parking lot.

"This is it," Nick said, his tone light. "Our last ride in The Boss."

"Do you really have to sell the car?" John asked. He fiddled with his seatbelt buckle.

"I want to sell the car," Nick told him. "The money I get from The Boss will be my down payment on the garage. I'll have my own business. I'll be able to take care of you and your mom."

"How can you? We'll be in New York. You can't take care of us there."

"I wanted to talk to you about that."

John cocked his head to the side. "What about it?"

"I have some ideas I want to run past you." He took a breath, praying John wouldn't shoot his plans down.

"What kind of ideas?" John shifted on the seat to better view Nick.

"I love you, John. And I love your mother. I want to marry Clea, but I wanted to ask your permission first. It's important to me that you approve." He paused, his heart beating so hard he thought it might come right out of his chest.

John didn't reply. He glanced away, out the window.

Nick's heart sank.

"How can you marry us if you live in Port Bliss?" John asked, his voice small.

"I've got a couple of different plans in place, but I need to talk to your mom about them first. You have to trust me. We will all be together. I promise," Nick said. "Do I have your permission to ask her to marry me?"

"I guess."

Nick could see the hope in his son's eyes. For the first time since he'd come home, Nick could feel a bond between them, a small bond, but one he felt certain he could build on.

Nick gave John a smile of encouragement. "Everything is going to be all right, John."

John's teeth sunk into his lower lip. "Things will never be the same. Robert's in trouble. Billy's in trouble. Senator Bloomfield is dead."

"Robert and Billy will be fine," Nick said. "I know you're sad about the senator. I'm sad too, and that's okay, but we have to move forward. We have so many years to make up. I want to spend the rest of my life making you and your mother happy. It's all I've ever wanted."

John nodded. Nick reached over and squeezed his son's hand. John didn't pull away. For one sweet moment he felt a connection to John, the kind of connection he'd always wanted to have with his son.

The sound of an approaching car pulled their attention away from each other. Billy drove up beside them, rolling his window down. Nick opened his window.

"He's not here yet?" Billy asked, referring to the buyer.

"No," Nick said. "Park your car. We're going to go on one last ride before he gets here." Nick turned to John. "What do you say, John? Let's take one last wild ride."

*   *   *

Clea ran the packing tape across the top of the box. She took a look around the apartment. Tears pricked her eyes. All her things were boxed up and ready to be moved into storage. Everything was happening too fast. She couldn't get her breath, didn't know what to do. Yesterday, Mitzi told Clea that she'd rented the apartment. It was what Clea had wanted, but it made the move seem final. Her home here would belong to someone else. She kept telling herself she would still have her half ownership of The Coffee House. She could come back to Port Bliss whenever she wanted. Focusing on her dream should be a priority, but Clea knew in her heart her dream was no longer her photography.

Nick's return had changed everything. Making love with him had changed her. She didn't want to live without him, or raise John without him. She loved him too much.

Port Bliss was her home. Her mother was here. Her son's friends were here. Nick was here. More than anything she wanted to stay, to be a family. But if Nick didn't ask her to stay, if he didn't want to be with her and John, did she want to come back? It was so confusing. She couldn't leave town with things unfinished between them. Nick had called her a coward once, and maybe she had been, but not any longer. Somehow, she'd fallen for Nick all over again, and this time she intended to hang onto him with both hands.

The sound of a car pulling up out front brought her to the window. She watched as John and Nick got out of Billy's car. When they were clear, Billy drove off. Nick had asked to spend some time with John today. While she thought it was a good idea, she'd been surprised when John had agreed. Something had happened between the two of them at the funeral. They'd made a connection in spite of the sorrow and anger they both felt.

Clea turned as they came into the apartment. "Hi," she said, smiling. Just seeing Nick in her apartment made her feel better, lighter. She'd missed him this week.

"Hi," Nick said softly and there was something in his tone that told her they'd be okay.

"Mom, is it okay if I go over to Toby's now?" John asked, running by her and into his room.

"Yes." She had a million questions for Nick, but first she had to deal with John. She followed John to his room, surprised that he didn't seem upset like she'd feared. "Toby called when you were out. I think he has a surprise for you."

"I'll walk him over," Nick said, joining them, "then I'll be back."

John flew out of his room, his backpack slung over his arm.

"What do you have there?" Clea asked.

"Stuff I want to show Toby," John answered on his way to the door.

"Did you remember the card?" Clea asked. She'd gotten Toby a phone card so he could call John whenever he wanted to.

John gave her an exasperated smile. "Yes, it's inside."

"All right then." She went to the door. "Call me when you are ready to be picked up."

"I will." John exchanged a glance with Nick, a glance that said they had a secret. She wanted to question them both, but instead she let John go.

The door closed behind them. She could hear John's chatter as he walked down the stairs. In a minute, Nick would return. It was their last chance to talk, to be together for a long time. Tears filled Clea's eyes and she bit down on her lip to stop the flow. What if Nick didn't say the words she wanted to hear? No, she refused to think negatively. If Nick turned her down this time, it wouldn't be for lack of trying on her part. From the beginning they were destined to be together. Fate wouldn't be so cruel as to pull them apart again.

* * *

Nick paused outside of Clea's apartment door. Inside she waited for him. They had a lot to discuss and not much time to do it. He wasn't a praying man, but right now he prayed for things to work out between them. He knew she thought he'd withdrawn from her, but he hadn't. He'd needed every minute of the past few days to set his plans into motion. The senator's death had slowed things a little and sent him into a tailspin of self-doubt. The funeral had been tough, but after the service concluded he'd known it wasn't just his father he had to make peace with. He'd gone over to Maude's grave and made peace with his mother. An incredible sorrow had filled him, making him question every choice he'd ever made, then John had joined him, taking Nick's hand, telling him it was okay to be sad. John's words and caring touch had pulled Nick out of his funk, and made him more determined than ever to get his family back.