Page 72 of Carry On (Love Doesn’t Cure All #4)

LINCOLN

Waking up to find a note on the island didn’t sit right with me—not after our decision to make a real go at it.

His leaving was worrisome, but not knowing where he’d gone? Well, that didn’t sit right with me. I wanted to believe everything was okay, but something in my core told me it wasn’t. As I hurried through getting dressed to leave, I texted him.

Are you safe?

NASH: Yeah.

Will you tell me where you are?

It was a loaded question. I knew where he was. I had the location on his phone turned on. What I wanted to know was if he’d share it with me. Would he let me come sit with him as he worked through whatever was bothering him?

NASH: Across the street.

The park across from my condo had a little pond with a walking path. In the early hours, it was serene and calm. Sometimes there would be a dog walker or two, but for the most part, it was empty. And maybe that was why Nash picked the park bench near the pond to clear his head.

He sat with his arms crossed and his feet stretched out in front of him.

That pensive expression on his face as he stared out at the pond made my heart ache.

He looked exhausted with bags under his eyes, his expression fraught with some kind of war I had no hope of understanding.

He didn’t move or even look up when I sat down next to him.

If he had slept, there was no sign of it. What time had he left the condo?

“How long?” I asked quietly.

“All night,” Nash replied.

“Do I need to worry, Nash?” Even as I said the words, I knew the answer.

In my heart, I knew. There was no reason for him to sit out here all night.

No good reason anyway. What darkness was creeping in that he felt he couldn’t be around me?

And how did I make him understand that it was okay to stay?

I wanted all of him, and I did mean all.

“I don’t know,” he whispered.

“Okay.” I nodded, slow and uncertain. I didn’t have a clue what to do with that. “How can I help?”

“I don’t know,” he said once more. The emptiness in his voice was heart-wrenching. “I’m just so tired, Linc.”

“I know.” That I did know. His exhaustion was etched into every inch of him. It wasn’t the kind of tired that could be fixed with sleep. He bore the weight of his wars heavily on his shoulders, crumbling under it. “Are you going into work today?”

I glanced at him in the pending silence.

His head gave the tiniest of shakes. I would’ve been lying if I said I wasn’t disappointed.

It wasn’t about the money. I didn’t give a fuck about that.

I had more than enough and then some to keep us both comfortable for a very long time.

It was about him finding a new normal that wasn’t park benches and protein bars broken into pieces.

Maybe it was all too much, too fast. Almost a decade disconnected from the world wasn’t easy to recover from. It wasn’t easy to come back from. Maybe I was pushing him too fast or expecting too much out of him. I didn’t really know the timeline for all of this.

“Breakfast date?” I offered. Pancakes were a good way to distract from the bullshit. It was also a prime real first date option.

“Sure,” Nash said with a slight shrug that oddly tugged at my heartstrings.

It was as if he was so defeated by the world that it was easier to give in than anything else.

Standing, I offered him my hand. His fingers slipped easily through mine without hesitation as he stood.

At least that was something, a little thing that eased my mind.

As I started to leave, he pulled me back, and his lips touched mine. The kiss was heavy and poignant, spilling over with the emotions he struggled to say.

“I’m sorry I’m so fucked up,” Nash whispered, his forehead pressed to mine.

“I knew what I signed up for,” I said.

The words were a lie. I’d signed up for insurance fraud. I hadn’t signed up to give my heart to a man teetering between life and death with no clue as to how I could save him. I kissed him again and silently begged that he could feel how much I loved him.

Because I did.

I loved Nash Calhoun, and my heart told me that was a dangerous thing to do.