One in a Million (16 page)

His cell phone rang. Nash grabbed it from the
desk by the window and glanced at the display
screen. He recognized the number and punched the
Talk button.

“Harmon."

“
Tell me you're on a beach somewhere enjoying
the sun." Nash grinned. "Jack, it's a little after five in the morning on the west coast. There isn't any sun."
His boss swore. "Sorry. I always forget about the
time difference. Did I wake you?"

“No. I was up."

“Want to tell me why?"
Nash thought about Stephanie and what they'd
done the previous evening. "Not a chance."

“
Huh. I can't decide if your being cryptic is good
or bad."

“I can't help you there."

“
You mean you won't. Never mind. I'm not calling to mess with you too much. I thought I'd bring
you up to date on what's going on around the of
fice."

“
Right." Nash grinned. "You're calling to check
up on me. Why don't you admit it?"

“
Because I don't have to. Marie's pregnant."
Nash's grin broadened. "Don't sound so broken
up about it."

“
She already has eight or nine kids. Why does
she want another one? What if she doesn't come
back? She keeps my life running smoothly. I don't
want to have to train some other assistant."

“Hold on. I want to pause a moment and feel the compassion."
Jack swore again. "I know, I know. I should be
happy for her."

“
You would be if it weren't so inconvenient for
you."

“Right."
Nash shook his head. "For one thing, Marie only
has two children, not eight or nine. For another, she
loves her job more than most of us do. She's not
going to quit."

“
That's what she says, but I don't believe her.”

“
That's your problem."
Jack called him a name, then brought him up to
date on several projects. "So how are you feeling?"
he asked when he was done.

“
I felt fine before I left and I still feel fine," Nash
said.

“You know what I mean. I worry about you. Too
many hours, no time off. Hell, Nash, you don't even
call in sick."

“That's because I don't get sick."

“
You work late, you work holidays. It's not nat
ural. I don't want you burning out. I need you at the
top of your game."

“So your concern is all about you."

“
Damn straight." Jack was quiet for a second.
"You need to talk to somebody." Nash's chest tightened. "I did."

“You had the required sessions with an in-house psychologist, because I threatened to fire you if you
didn't. I'm talking about someone outside the bu
reau. Tina's death was a shock to all of us. Violence leaves a scar."
The conversation was a variation of one they'd
had a dozen times before. "I've dealt with it in my
own way."

“That's what scares me. Do you still blame yourself?"
Nash knew the right answer. He was supposed to
say that he didn't. That it was just one of those
things. Instead he told the truth.

“I should have known. I should have done something."

“You're good, but you're not that good. No one is." But Nash knew he was supposed to be. He was supposed to be one of the best.

“
So you're having fun?" Jack asked in a change
of subject.

Nash thought about what he'd been doing for the
past few days. "Yeah. I am."

“
Good to hear. Take it easy. Relax. Become one
of the living again."

“I'm working on it."

“
I wish I could believe that. You need to get
laid."
Nash chuckled. "Funny you should mention that.
I was just thinking the same thing myself.”

“
For real?"

“Yup."

“
That's the best news I heard all day. Good for
you."

“
Don't be so enthusiastic," Nash said. "You're
starting to worry me." Jack laughed. "Fair enough. Okay, you go find a
good-looking broad and I'll hold things together
here. See you in a couple of weeks."

“Sure thing. Bye."
Nash pushed the End button on his cell, then
tossed the phone back onto the desk. Jack was old
school, and the least politically correct guy Nash
knew. But he was a good man who genuinely cared.
He wanted Nash to let the past go—not just for the
sake of his team, but for Nash himself.

Nash wasn't ready to let anything go, not yet, but
he was willing to take his friend's advice about find
ing a "good-looking broad." He already had one in
mind.

Nash showered and dressed, but waited until close
to seven before going downstairs. After what had happened the previous night, he wasn't sure what to
expect. At the bottom of the stairs he saw that the
kitchen door was closed and the dining room door
was open. Taking that as a hint, he crossed to the
dining room and found his usual place for one al
ready set. The local paper, along with
USA
TODAY,
sat to the left of his napkin and flatware. A basket
of still-warm scones sat next to an empty coffee cup.
Before he could check the carafe, the door to the
kitchen pushed open and Stephanie entered.

She had returned to her B&B-owner uniform of
tailored slacks, low-heeled pumps and a sweater that clung to her upper body in such a way as to interfere with his brain waves. Makeup accentuated her blue eyes...eyes that were not looking directly at him.

“
Good morning," she said politely as she carried
a full coffeepot over to the table. She unscrewed the
lid of the carafe, then filled it with the steaming
liquid.

“
What would you like in your omelette?" she
asked. "I have several cheeses, an assortment of
vegetables, bacon, ham and sausage. Or you could
have the meat on the side."
She offered him a friendly smile that didn't chase away the air of nervousness.

So she'd decided to go the "all business" route
to deal with whatever morning-after jitters she might
be having. Nash could have wished for something
else, but he understood her decision. She didn't
know him from a rock. She was a woman with responsibilities and they didn't include playing footsie with the paying guests.

“
An omelette would be great," he said. "Ched
dar cheese and whatever vegetables you have
around. I would appreciate a side of bacon, as well."

“
No problem. It will be about fifteen or twenty minutes. The boys are due down any second and I
want to get them fed. Is that all right?"

“Of course."
She nodded and left, all without ever looking di
rectly at him. Nash took his seat and opened the
paper, but he didn't actually see the print.

Was she having second thoughts about last night?
Did she regret the kiss? When they'd parted, he
would have bet she'd been as pleasantly surprised
and turned on as he had been. But after several hours
to reflect, she could have decided it had all been a
mistake.

He didn't want her to think that. He wanted her
to want him as much as he wanted her.

Nash shook his head. Okay—he had it bad. He was on the verge of behaving like an idiot over a
woman and he couldn't remember the last time that
had happened.

The sound of feet clattering on the stairs caught
his attention. The boys were arguing over whose
turn it was to pick up in the family room upstairs.
Apparently they all tried to get in the kitchen door
at once because there were shouts of "Stop pushing
me," and "Get out of my way!"
Nash smiled as he imagined the three of them shoving and laughing and then bursting into the
kitchen. He heard Stephanie's warm greeting, then
the sound of chairs being pulled out.

For the first time in years, he found himself not
wanting to be by himself. As he sat alone in the
dining room, he listened to murmurs of conversation
and explosions of laughter, all the while wishing he could be a part of it. Then, without considering the
consequences of his actions, he picked up his carafe
of coffee, his cup and the basket of scones, then
walked into the kitchen.

Once again, conversation ceased. He could feel
the boys looking at him, but his attention centered
on Stephanie. She had just set a carton of eggs onto
the center island. Her head snapped up and her
mouth parted slightly. Color crept up her cheeks.

“
The dining room was a little empty this morning," he said by way of explanation. "Would you
mind if I joined you in here?" Emotions raced across her face, but they went too
quickly for him to read them. If she hesitated for
too long, or looked too uncomfortable, he was going
to head back to the dining room and keep out of her
way for the rest of his stay.

The corners of her mouth turned up slightly and
her blush deepened. When she finally met his gaze,
he saw a heat flaring in her eyes that matched the
one raging inside him.

“That would be nice," she said.

The twins shifted their chairs to make room for
him between them. He set his coffee and scones down on the table and collected an empty chair.
When he was seated he saw that Brett didn't look
as happy to see him as everyone else did.

Before he could think of something to say to the
preteen, Jason flipped back the napkin on the basket
and peered inside.

“
Whatcha got?" he asked, then wrinkled his
nose.

“Don't you like scones?" Jason shook his head. "They taste funny."
Nash offered one to Adam, who shrunk back in
his chair as if he'd been offered bug guts. Nash
glanced at Brett and raised his eyebrows.

Brett reached across the table and took one.
"They're still kids," he said as he set the scone next
to his toast. "They don't like these yet."

“
Makes sense," Nash said, trying not to smile.
The way Brett talked, he was pushing forty instead
of barely turned twelve.

Nash poured himself a cup of coffee. Behind him, Stephanie cracked eggs into a frying pan.

“
There's a talent show today," Jason announced.
"At school. A girl in my class is going to dance
ballet." He wrinkled his nose. "She's got this
funny-looking skirt thing. A tutu. It sticks out and
is all stiff. But if you throw it across the room it
goes really far."

“
A boy in my class plays the drums," Adam said
from Nash's other side. "And three girls are going
to sing a song from the radio."

“
Sounds like fun.” Adam nodded.

The twins chatted all through breakfast. Brett
didn't say much, but he kept his eye on Nash. Steph
anie slid their scrambled eggs onto their plates, then
whipped up Nash's omelette. While he finished eat
ing, the boys stood and began collecting their back
packs. There was a flurry of activity as each child received a hug, a kiss and lunch money.