Choices, Loyalty, & Love (Men of NatEx #3): A Package Handlers Novel Read online

  So I steer the conversation back to him. “What business brought you here?”

  It’s obvious how proud Mason is of his work when he talks about his meeting with Launchpad Systems, the local big tech company. His whole face lights up as he talks about how much he loves his job.

  Then his phone rings and he reaches into his pocket, holding one finger up in the air. First, Nic. Now, him. I’m so glad I’m an important part of this dinner.

  “Hello?” he says into the phone. “How soon?” After a beat, he says, “Sure. I’ll be right there.” He hangs up and gives me a disappointed look. “I’m so sorry, but I’m needed at the office. Think we can finish this another time this week? Are you free for another dinner?”

  I nod. “Yeah, sure. We’ll figure it out.”

  He gets up from his seat and goes to retrieve his wallet, but I wave him away.

  “Don’t worry about it. I’ll get it.”

  After a frozen moment, he says, “Then I’ll get the next one. Thanks.”

  Nic returns, her purse slung over her shoulder, and finds Mason standing next to the table. “What’s going on?”

  “I’m so sorry, babe, but Mr. Masters called and we’re having another meeting. We only have this week to figure everything out with the board, so we’re trying to get it done as quickly as possible.” He gives her a swift kiss on the cheek. “You understand, right? We’ll all have dinner another time.”

  As he starts to walk away, Nic frantically reaches out to stop him. “Can you drop me off at the hotel on your way?”

  If she really doesn’t want to be alone with me that much, why’d she tell me that we need to talk? We never got to have that talk, and I’m not going to even press it after what I’ve seen tonight. But I can still help my brother out when I can. Because I should be a gracious host to his girlfriend but also to him. Especially since he looks like he’s weighing the pros and cons of driving her to the hotel and being late to his work meeting.

  “I can take her,” I offer. “We’ll get the food to go and I’ll make sure to send her back with yours.”

  He releases a huge, grateful breath. “Thank you!” he insists before he spins around and heads for the exit.

  It’s the least I can do to help out. Because there’s one thing that man’s face lights up for more than his job. I knew that Nic was back before she even spoke because Mason’s expression turned from I have to rush out of here for work to I am the luckiest guy in the world to be with her. And I know that because that’s exactly how I’d look at her if she were my woman.

  So I’ll make sure she gets back to the hotel in one piece with his food.

  And then I’ll make sure we never see each other again.

  It’s the only way I’ll survive.

  Chapter 5

  Nic

  I thought things were awkward when all three of us were together. But I had no idea how much more awkward they could get with Mason’s absence. Something’s on Aidan’s mind, and he won’t come out and say it. In fact, he won’t say anything. So we’re sitting in silence as we wait for our food to be put into to-go containers. He didn’t give us the option of eating our meals here, which is fine. I can only stand a silent, brooding Aidan for so long before I crack.

  Apparently, that’s right now.

  “Aidan, can I—”

  “No,” he says, cutting me off. “Whatever it is, you can’t.” He scratches his nail against the table, keeping his gaze on his finger. “And don’t say my name.”

  “Why not?” I ask before thinking better of it.

  “Because,” he quietly murmurs, still scratching the wood of the table, “the way you say it makes me wish things I have no business wishing for.”

  I’m not sure if I was meant to hear that, but oh, I did. And my heart skips a beat as it wishes for the same things.

  Maybe this isn’t a lost cause after all. I thought, after he ignored my text three months ago, that he’d moved on and had no interest in what I had to say. And I can’t say I blamed him. I can’t say I wasn’t devastated, either, but that’s a different story. I understood. I’d pushed him away and turned him down.

  But not for the reasons he thinks.

  In any case… “I meant: Why can’t I talk to you? Not…the other thing.”

  Sooner than he can answer, the waiter brings our food in bags. “So sorry you have to rush off, but we understand. Enjoy your food and have a wonderful evening. Hopefully we’ll see you back soon.”

  Aidan says his thanks before snatching the bags up and heading for the door. Outside, I follow him to his Jeep, which he doesn’t unlock until we’re both right outside the passenger’s-side door. Then he transfers the bags of food to one hand and opens the door for me.

  I go to get in, but he puts his free hand on my arm and stops me.

  “Because nothing you can say to me will change the way my brother feels about you, Nic.” He lingers, letting his fingers rest on my skin for too long. And I don’t even think about moving out of his grip. But he lets me go with a sudden movement, like touching me burned him somehow, and gazes up at the sky. “I saw it all over his face tonight. That man has eyes only for you, and the last thing in the world I want to do is get in the middle of that. And I have a feeling that’s exactly what it might look like I’m doing if you open that pretty mouth of yours.”

  With that, he effectively shuts me up—but again, not for the reasons he might think. It doesn’t matter what Aidan says. I still want to have a discussion with him. A few of them, actually. But those words—the ones about Mason’s eyes being only for me? They’re like a crowbar to the backs of my knees. I’m glad for my grip on the inside of the door because, without it, I might have fallen to the asphalt of the parking lot.

  Those words couldn’t be further from the truth, and if Aidan knew… Well, that might change things.

  But I’m locked in my own personal prison as I recall the night I found out how untrue Aidan’s assessment is. Sure, it might be true now. Though, honestly, I don’t know. The man isn’t dumb and won’t give up easily. He knows what he has and how badly he screwed up. But that doesn’t mean it hurts any less. Or that I trust him anymore.

  I get in Aidan’s Jeep and swallow all the words I wanted to spill.

  Aidan follows suit, silently getting in on the driver’s side and putting the food in my lap. I gladly accept it if only to have something to do with my hands.

  “Where am I taking you?” he asks as he starts the car.

  “It doesn’t matter,” I answer, staring straight out the windshield. “He’ll probably be gone for a while.”

  He grips the steering wheel, his knuckles turning white with the effort. “Where are you two staying?”

  I take a deep breath, trying to inhale some patience. Some sense of being present in this moment. This could be one of the last I get with Aidan and I’m too busy worrying about the past. About the choices I’ve made. About the loyalty I’ve placed in the wrong people. In the love I’ve wasted for too long.

  “We’re at the Hilton on Third,” I finally answer. This isn’t a battle I’ll win tonight, and if I’m interested in winning the war of my life, I have to learn when to surrender. Now is one of those times. “You can just drop me off out front.”

  I feel his exhale of relief more than I hear it. Or even see it. I keep my gaze out the window as we fly down the streets of the town Aidan calls home. I try to see it through his eyes, as a place of residence rather than a place to visit. And I can visualize it. With the caring, nice people I’ve met so far and the gorgeous summer weather, I can see why this place ended up being home. Plus, his house is beautiful. Big and spacious.

  He’s done well for himself. And I have to be grateful for that. When you love someone, you just want them to be happy. That’s what I want for Aidan. Though something tells me he’s not, and something else tells me that has something to do with me. I can’t dive further into that tonight though. Between being with strangers—even though they ended
up feeling like family—all day and then being ditched at dinner, I’m exhausted. I wanted to be up for that conversation, but I don’t think we’re going to have it now, so all I want to do is put this food in the fridge and go to bed. It’s been a day. A few of them.

  I yawn as we pull into the parking lot of the hotel. Instead of putting the Jeep in park out front, he finds an open spot and kills the engine. Then he gets out of the Jeep before I can think twice about what he’s doing. When my door opens, he gathers the bags of food in one hand and holds the free one as if to help me from the car. But, before I grab it, he smoothly puts it on the top of the open door and gestures with the other arm for me to get out.

  At this point, I don’t even care if he’s trying to avoid touching me. I get it. But it only makes my desire to talk this out with him—and, if I’m honest, do a whole hell of a lot more with him—even stronger. The fact that he doesn’t want to touch me for fear of…what? Losing control? Failing to touch only my hand? Taking things too far?

  God, I wish he would. For more than one reason, I just wish he would.

  He won’t though. He could have a long time ago and didn’t. And he could have done a number of things after I texted him—but he didn’t. So maybe I’m not worth it. Maybe I deserve what Mason did to me. Maybe I—

  “Which room are you guys in?” he asks as we walk through the front doors.

  In my shame spiral, I didn’t even realize we were moving. But we’re inside the hotel now, nearly to the elevators. He pushes the up button as he waits for my response.

  “You don’t have to—”

  “I’m not dropping you off and leaving, Nic,” he says like it’s the stupidest thing he’s ever heard. “I’ll make sure you’re safe. Mason will hand me my ass if I don’t.”

  Part of me wants to believe him, but another part of me isn’t sure that’s true. With everything going on between Mason and me, I’m so fucked up. And, with how exhausted I am, I can barely tell which way is up. But I do remember the hotel room number, luckily.

  As we enter the elevator, I tell him, “The seventh floor.”

  So he pushes the 7 button with his free hand and then drops the hand to his side. The part of me that’s always drawn to him notices how close our hands are. In fact, if I reached my pinkie out, I could probably touch him. And I almost test that theory. But then his fingers twitch, his hand forms a tight fist, and he puts one of the bags in the free one, bursting that idea completely.

  The elevator doors open and we both exhale as though we’d been holding our breath for the whole ride up. Maybe we were. I certainly feel like I was. And he looks like he was too as he checks down the hallway to figure out which way to go.

  “Left,” I say.

  He takes up the whole hallway as we walk toward the room. When we get close to 727, I tell him which one it is. Then I pull the keycard from my purse and open the door. When I go to grab the bags of food, though, he doesn’t give them to me. Instead, he sneaks past me and goes inside.

  I let the door close behind me and follow him in. I figure, as soon as he’s done doing whatever he’s doing, he’ll go and I can go to sleep. Once the food is on the table, he digs through the bag, and when he finds his food, he removes it. He puts the rest of the food in the small fridge. And then he takes swift, sure steps to the door.

  So I toss my purse onto the table and go to my suitcase to find clothes to change into for the night. And, if I’m honest, I watch him as he walks away from me for the third time in my life.

  However, when he gets to the door, his hand fumbles on the handle and he presses his forehead to the wood.

  “What’s wrong now, A—” I swallow his name before it leaves my lips, per his command. “What’s wrong?”

  A deep sigh releases from his lungs. Then he slowly turns around and faces me. After letting his head fall back against the door, he grumbles, “I just can’t leave you. Not again.”

  ***

  Aidan

  “Then don’t,” she says, sighing too. She looks as tired as I feel, but I don’t think it’s for the same reasons.

  I’m exhausted from loving her. Not because she’s tough to love—just the opposite. It’s too easy to be in a love with a woman like Nic. Which makes it hard as hell to stay away. And fucking exhausting. Because I care way too much, and my mind’s stuck on that phone call she took earlier. It seemed like it was upsetting her, stressing her out. Whatever it was, I want to be here for her.

  But the last thing I should do is try to come between them again. It didn’t work the first time, and I’ve now seen with my own two eyes how much my brother appreciates their long-term relationship. Though why he hasn’t married the woman is beyond me. That part doesn’t matter. What does is that it’d be a shit thing for me to do.

  Yet I can’t seem to stop myself. Not when it comes to her.

  Especially when she tells me not to.

  “Nic,” I start, lifting my head away from the door.

  “Hey.” She waves a finger at me, clutching a change of clothes against her chest. “If I can’t say your name, you shouldn’t say mine, either. It’s just as distracting, you know.”

  I know? Do I? I don’t know what the hell I know.

  “You’re the only one who calls me that,” she tells me as she smooths the top of her ponytail back. “Well, besides all the people here who know me through you. Though I set the record straight and asked them to call me Veronica.” Her hand falls to her side. “They seem like good people.”

  I reply immediately. “They are. Really good people.” Even if they’re nosy and they give me a hard time sometimes. “It was just Matt for a while, but then he got with Cadence, and his brother and his sister moved here. And then his brother started dating Amelia…” Before I know it, I’m halfway across the room, close to her again.

  “I’m glad you’ve found family here.” Her grin is genuine and warm—everything I’ve always loved about her.

  “You’ve got family too, you know.” I set my food on the table as I tick names off on my fingers. “You’ve got my mom. Your brother. Mason.” It takes a lot of strength not to flinch when I mention my brother’s name.

  Though her flinch is telling. Of what, I don’t know, but there’s definitely a story under the surface, and I keep telling her not to tell me. Part of me still doesn’t want to know, so I try to lighten the moment instead.

  “And your knitting club, it seems.”

  At that, she cracks a smile, visible relief relaxing her shoulders and the skin of her face. “I suppose so,” she laughs lightly.

  “Hey.” I decide that it’s time to see what I can get out of her regarding dinner. “That phone call you took at the restaurant. Everything okay?”

  That must have been the wrong thing to ask. After her throat works up and down from swallowing, she holds her clothes in the air. “I’m just going to change really quickly, okay? I’ll be back in a second.” Then she disappears inside the bathroom, the door softly clicking shut.

  I take too many steps forward, my feet padding across the carpet to the room she just entered. A foot away from the door, I stare at it like I might be able to see through it. Not because I want to be a creepy asshole and watch her change, but because our time is limited and I don’t want her out of my sight. As soon as she gets on that plane to go back with my brother, I fully plan on never seeing her again, if only for self-preservation.

  For now though… I don’t want to take my eyes off her.

  So I watch the door, intent on standing here until she opens it again. I’ll do what I do best and wait. I’ve waited six years for these moments, so another few won’t kill me.

  Until I hear soft crying on the other side and decide I’ve waited long enough for her.

  As soon as I open the door, I find her crying, one hand covering her mouth. The other is holding her body up as she braces it against the sink. Her eyes are squeezed shut, and she doesn’t even react to the fact that I’ve barged in here like it’s somethin
g I’m allowed to do. With her sobs, her shoulders shake and her ponytail sways across her back.

  Her nearly naked back.

  Which leads to the nearly naked rest of her body.

  She’s midchange, down to a nude bra and her light-pink underwear, and I have to force myself with all of my might not to focus on the fact that I’ve never, not once, seen her this way. And everything about her is even better than the dream. But I shove all the fantasies, wishes, and desires down and rush over to her.

  I wrap her up in my arms and hold her tight, knowing full well I may never get a chance like this again. Not to hold her while she’s almost nude, but to comfort her when something’s upsetting her this much. Well, okay, both, but really the latter. Nothing in the world should ever make her cry. And that thought makes me hope I’m not the root cause of this. I never want to be the reason this woman cries.

  Ever.

  “Hey, what’s wrong?” I ask softly, spinning her so her head goes against my chest. My large palm covers the back of her head as I cradle her in my arms. “Why are you crying?”

  She sobs and sniffles, trying to get ahold of herself. But, as much as I want to know what’s wrong, she doesn’t need to hold it together for me. She can let go. And then we’ll get to the bottom of this.

  “It’s okay,” I tell her. I rub her back and smooth her hair down, hoping I’m bringing her at least a little comfort. “Whatever it is, it’ll be okay.”

  Then I stay silent as I let her cry as much as she needs to.

  We stand here for a while. Minutes, maybe twenty. I can’t tell. Time practically stands still for me as I hold the woman of my dreams in my arms. This isn’t how it was supposed to be because she should never be this sad. I’ve pictured our reunion too many times to count, and this was never a scenario. But I’m glad to be here for her, even if I was planning on never laying eyes on her again.