Silent Hearts (Hamilton Stables 3) (11 page)

Industries wasn’t so cut and dried, but that didn’t keep Nick from carrying the burden of the state of the business.

“Sorry about that.” Greg pushed his phone away from him and threaded his fingers together on the desk. “What can I do for you?”

“That was Trip?”

“Alex, actually.”

“Ah.” The knot in Nick’s stomach tightened still further. Even Alex was turning a profit for the company. What had Nick done so wrong? Why couldn’t he turn things around?

He thought of his visit with California again and that tiny morsel of hope bloomed. “So, I just returned from Cali and—”

“It’s not going to happen, Nick.” Greg’s grim expression registered in Nick’s mind and he wondered why he hadn’t noticed it before.

“But they said—”

“I know what they said. They’re wrong. Foolish and wrong.”

“Their ideas were—”

“I know.”

Nick jumped up, then. “Stop doing that. Stop interrupting me. Stop treating me like the idiotic kid who never had a chance of making the team. We have prospects here. We can’t let the company go without exploring them.”

Eyeing the door and the staff outside, all watching them now, Greg closed the door, and then sat back down as calmly as ever, but his intent was clear. “Do you want to bankrupt this company? Is that what you want? Because it would cost millions in research and development to explore those ideas. To realize those prospects. Is that what you want? Because these people are counting on you. You, not me. You. Are you really willing to risk their livelihoods to save your ego?”

“I’m doing this for them.”

“No, you’re not. Compton agreed to maintain the current staff. And you can have that outlined in the contract. Which you know. This isn’t about them. It’s about you deluding yourself into believing you’ve failed your father. The business was declining well before he died. You know that, too.”

Nick sighed heavily and took his seat again, this time with the weight of defeat on his shoulders. “What do I do? Let it go? Not try to do everything I can? What kind of man would I be if I let it go without a fight?”

“A smart man. You aren’t letting it go. You’re selling it. It’s business, and this happens every day. Your decision to sell isn’t submitting to failure, it’s preventing failure. Why can’t you see that?”

“I need more time.”

“There’s no more time. The deal has to close or they’ll find another company to buy. You know how these things work.”

Nick stood then and started for the door.

“What are you going to do?”

Nick hesitated, his hand on the doorknob, visions of playing in these offices when he was a kid running through his head and hurting his heart. “I . . .” He shook his head. “I need more time.”

“Well, hurry. You’re right—we are counting on you here. Counting on you to make the right decision.”

Nick peered at the controller, who’d been with his father from the beginning, who he’d known all his life. “I know. Trust me, I know.”

B
ecca scattered all the college applications Priscilla had pulled for her onto her bed. She had community colleges, liberal art colleges, giant universities, private schools Becca couldn’t afford unless she won the lottery. And seeing as how she didn’t even play the lottery, that was a long shot.

For as long as she could remember, she’d always wanted to be a nurse. Her mother used to say that doctors flew in and looked like the heroes, but it was the nurses who really deserved the cape. She wasn’t entirely sure if that were true until she caught a bad bought of viral pneumonia when she was ten. She was in the hospital for what felt like forever, and her sister was still at home, so while her parents and grandparents were there all the time, it was mostly Granny and the nurses who kept her company.

That was the day she decided she wanted to be a nurse. She wanted to be the superhero without the cape, because the truth was Becca had never cared much about attention or recognition. The cape would never matter to her. She simply wanted to help people, and nursing would allow her to do just that while also getting to know the patients on a more personal level.

She’d worked herself to the bone all through high school to maintain perfect grades, and it had paid off. She was in the top of her class, narrowly missing valedictorian, and had a full ride to Duke, the school of her dreams.

Everything was lined up, her future laid out before her, bright. She’d managed a semester and a half before she got the call that Granny could no longer take care of herself. Immediately, she thought back to those weeks at the hospital when she was ten, Granny refusing to leave her side, and knew what she had to do.

Packing up her dorm and saying good-bye to Duke had been one of the hardest days of her life. And while it had devastated her to leave, she learned through that experience that dreams weren’t always a reality for adults. And though she felt the loss of what might have been, she was glad she’d had those years with her grandmother. Her conscience was clear, even if her heart ached for something more than the life she now led.

Now, at thirty-three and not growing a day younger, she felt silly trying to go back to school, starting all over again. Pretending she could just reinvent her life. People were set by the time they reached their thirties, habits ingrained and skill sets mastered—or in Becca’s case, not; how could she erase all of that and start again? And even if she was accepted to a school, how would she juggle going to school and working full-time?

It was all too much.

She glanced at the mirror over her dresser, at her reflection, at the photo of her and Nick in high school framed on the dresser. Of the photo of her and her grandmother beside it. They were the only two people in the world who really understood her, and now she and Nick were starting . . . well, whatever they were starting. Things in her life were changing. If ever there was a time to put herself out there, it was now.

A thrill worked through her, and she sorted the college applications into two piles—the schools she for sure wanted to explore and those that were either too expensive or too far away.

With newfound determination, she forced herself to throw caution to the wind and pulled out her laptop. Which immediately made her wish she’d lived in that moment of high for a beat long.

Apparently, her credits from Duke may or may not transfer, depending on the program, and then she would have to apply to schools almost like she was starting from scratch. This was going to be harder than she’d originally thought, and she was already insanely afraid. The application process was one of those things you were forced to do if you wanted to pursue college, but at least once you were accepted to your school of choice it was over.

Now Becca would have to do it all over again. The likelihood of everything coming together seemed slim to none.

Dropping her head onto one of her pillows, she ordered herself to calm down. Anything worth having required work, or however that saying went. This was just part of the work.

Deep breath
, she told herself. One thing at a time.

Now on to trying other things.

She eyed the dive gear in the corner of her room. They’d made it through all the classwork and the final pool session was that weekend. So far Becca had managed to float at the surface, unable to release the breath she needed to drop. Zac had assured her they would adjust her weight belt for this weekend, but she was nervous that maybe this was just another thing on the Becca-Is-So-Not-Athletic list. But she was close, so, so close. After this session, all they had left was the checkout dive in open waters, and then she would be officially certified. Scuba diver Becca.

Now that was a title she could get behind.

But if she was being perfectly honest, the checkout dive scared the crap out of her. So she set all her dive stuff in the corner, but in the open, so she’d have to look at it every day. Eventually she felt her brain would just shrug and no longer be deathly afraid. That shrug had yet to happen.

The problem was that she struggled in the pool with the freedom of the surface within reach. How would she handle being feet upon feet below the surface, sharks and other crazy things swimming all around her? In the pool, she was surrounded by other students and Zac, who was trained to make sure they didn’t die. And then there was Nick, who she trusted more than anyone else in the world. A part of her wanted to ask Nick to go with her on the dive, but he was already certified and had so much going on at the office. She knew he didn’t have the time.

Still . . .

Walking over to the gear, she pulled on the mask and snorkel and stared at her reflection. “What were you thinking, getting into this mess? Clearly not thinking at all.”

“Talking to yourself again?”

Becca jumped and spun around, yanking the mask off in one fluid motion, only to see Nick in her doorway instead of the serial killer she’d at first feared.

“Not a serial killer.”

Becca scowled. “I didn’t say anything.”

“You were thinking it.”

“I . . . Fine, I was thinking it.”

“You don’t even lock your front door. And anyway, when was the last murder in Triple Run?” Nick asked. “Oh, right, there’s never been one.”

Becca walked over and placed the mask and snorkel back with the rest of her gear. “Yeah, well, you know they’d start with me.”

Nick laughed and she peered over, the sound sending a shot directly to her heart. Their eyes locked. She had no idea how to act around him. Sure they’d kissed—several times. But kissing did not a boyfriend make. And did he even want to kiss her again? Or be her boyfriend, for that matter?

As if on cue, his gaze dropped to her lips, and she smiled a little.

“I missed you,” he said.

“I missed you, too.”

They continued to stare at each other, both unsure of what to do next, when Nick motioned to the dive gear. “What’s all that?”

“Dive gear.”

He rolled his eyes. “I’m tired, not stupid. What’s it all doing out?”

Becca fumbled with the snorkel, dropping it on the floor. Yep, she was going to be a pro at diving. At this point, she’d be lucky if she didn’t get herself drowned.

“Well, you know how we have just the one pool session next and then the checkout dive to complete our certification?”

“Yeah . . .”

“See, I have to go on the checkout dive.”

“So . . .”

“You’re going to make me say it, aren’t you?”

Nick’s mouth quirked up. “You’re scared.”

“Oh my God, scared is like the understatement of the year here. I’m freaking out-of-my-mind petrified. What if a shark comes up and eats me? What if one of those giant groupers eats me? What if my air dies or whatever and I can’t breathe? What if I rush to the surface in a panic and my lungs explode?”

Now he was full-out grinning. “Calm down. It’s simple.”

“Says the guy who’s been on hundreds of dives.”

“And I’ll be going on one more.”

She glanced over at him. “Really?”

“Of course. There’s no way I’d let you go alone with an amateur like Zac.” At her pointed stare, he relented. “Fine, he’s pretty good. But it’s still a little scary your first time. Why don’t you come over and have dinner with me tonight? At my house. I’ll cook and we’ll practice in my pool.”

“Seriously? That would be amazing. I was hoping to go on the checkout dive with the group next weekend, but I’m freaking myself out.”

“Don’t bring all that gear, just a swimsuit and the mask and snorkel.”

“Swimsuit?” Becca thought of the only bathing suit she had, aside from the damp, chlorine-scented one-piece she wore to dive class—a tiny black bikini that showed way too much skin, and that was years ago, when she didn’t have all these extra curves.

Heat filled Nick’s eyes as though he realized the same thing as she had—them together, alone, next to no clothes on, in his heated pool. This could get dangerous and fast.

“New fear?”

“You have no idea.”

 

Twenty minutes later, Nick and Becca were in Triple Run Market and More to grab some food for their dinner, Nick’s thoughts still on Becca in a swimsuit and whether he’d be able to contain himself once he saw her.

It wasn’t the first time he and Becca had been swimming together, but the last time was when they were teens, and though he’d had issues resisting her then, it wasn’t the same now. Adult Becca was curvy in all the right places, and his brain was having a hard time concentrating and—

“Nick?”

His head snapped up and he realized he’d been studying those curvy goods right in the middle of the produce section.

Becca grabbed a carrot, and suddenly, Nick was picturing a very different long, hard thing between her hands, and good God, he needed a cold, cold shower.

“Are you all right?” Becca reached out to touch his forehead and he grabbed her hand, threading his fingers through hers, and tugged her toward him. His head tilted toward hers, a smile on his face.

“You are tempting me into oblivion and you’re not even doing anything. What the hell am I going to do with myself?”

“Nick, is that you?”

Nick closed his eyes and took a step back from Becca. So close yet so far away. He turned to face Mayor Phillips. “Yes, Mayor. What can I do for you?”

“The trustees and I were just curious whether you planned to attend the festival next weekend?”

“Yes, sir.”

“And your brothers?”

“Likely, yes.”

“Great.” The mayor rocked back on his heels, his gaze traveling between Nick and Becca. “The Square would be a fine choice, just saying.”

Nick shook his head. “Just saying what?”

The mayor eyed Becca, and something on her face must have given him pause because he cleared his throat and waved it off. “Nothing. See you Saturday.”

“What was that about?” Nick asked as the mayor skirted off, and then his gaze searched around the small grocery story to find every set of eyes on them. “Good God, this is ridiculous.”

“You have no idea.”

Nick focused on Becca. “What did they do?”

“More what they said. Just that I was lucky to find you and I should get you in a nice suit in front of God and all of Triple Run at the Square.”

“Ah, that was the Square comment.”

“Yeah. They want a spring wedding.”

Nick scoffed. “Wedding? Are they insane?”

“Yeah, clearly. Insane.” But Becca’s voice didn’t quite match her words, and Nick peered over, a hint of fear dripping into his happy mood. Did Becca want this to go that far? Surely not; they were just starting whatever they were starting. They hadn’t even talked about what this was, where it was going, or any one of a thousand other conversations they should have.

“We’re good, right?” he asked, stopping her before she went on to the meats.

A smile took over her face. “We’re great.”

Then, before anyone else bothered him, he leaned in to press a quick kiss to her lips, and instantly, he wanted to do it again, take it further, see if he could drive her as crazy as she was driving him. He tucked her hair behind her ear and trailed his fingers through the long strands. “I like this.”

“Me too.” She smiled again, and then, town be damned, he took her hand and they continued their shopping that way, sure the whole town was getting a show, but for once, Nick couldn’t care less.

They decided on steaks, baked potatoes, grilled zucchini, and salad, because Becca could out eat a linebacker. It was one of the things he loved most about her, and though he caught the apprehension on her face at the idea of being in a swimsuit in front of him, he knew at heart she was okay with who she was. Becca was Becca, and he never wanted her to change.

“Swim first?” Nick asked as he parked in his garage.

“Sure.” Becca stepped out and went around to help with the groceries, but Nick waved her off.

“No, ma’am. You go get changed and ready yourself to become the best scuba diver on the planet. I’ll handle this.”

“Are you sure?”

“Absolutely.”

With obvious reluctance, Becca grabbed her tote and disappeared inside his house. He knew it took effort for her to let go, to allow someone else to take care of her, but she deserved it. Becca had spent her whole life taking care of others—her grandmother, her sister, her niece and nephew. It was time someone took care of her, and though Nick had tried to help where he could over the years, they were different now—more—and he was going to take care of her whether she liked it or not.

Setting down the bags in the kitchen, he went to work putting everything away, until his gaze caught Becca walking around the pool, already changed, the mask and snorkel dangling in her hand, and the tiniest excuse for a bikini he’d ever seen on her body. And suddenly Nick was very, very thankful for whoever designed that bikini, because holy hell.