Page 77 of Carry On (Love Doesn’t Cure All #4)

NASH

Lunch became an all-afternoon event. Peter and I played pool—rather, Peter kicked my ass at pool—while Mitchell hovered nearby.

It pissed me off, and I wanted to say something, but I held my tongue.

Peter didn’t know why I couldn’t stand being around our father.

Mitchell tried with Peter, and I could respect that.

Just because he’d been a shit father to me didn’t mean I needed to ruin Peter’s relationship with him too.

And while it was great spending time with him, I was grateful to be leaving as we left the bar. After a quick round of goodbyes, Lincoln stepped away to give us space. I immediately missed his presence. Having him there was comforting in ways I couldn’t put into words.

“It was so good to see you,” Charlotte said, moving in to hug me. She squeezed tightly as she whispered, “You take care of yourself, Nash, you hear me?”

“I will,” I replied. I gave her an awkward pat to get her to let go.

You won’t, the voice commented.

“And you take care of Lincoln too,” she told me when she did. “He’s a good one.”

“I know.” I was all too aware of how good a man Lincoln was. “And I will.”

I’d try my best.

You’ll fail, the voice said.

“Nash.” Mitchell offered me his hand. To avoid a scene in front of Peter, I accepted but kept the shake as brief as possible. “It was good to see you.”

“Yup.”

“I’m glad you’re happy,” he continued.

“Yup,” I repeated with a nod. Except I wasn’t.

They don’t care, the voice reminded me.

“Kid.” I offered Peter a hand to shake because I wasn’t the initiate-a-hug type. He knocked it away with a grin and dragged me in close. I muttered, “The height thing is going to throw me off for a while. The girls in Pine Creek must love you.”

“Eh,” He shrugged rather dramatically. “I only care about my heifers.”

The fact that he cared more about his cow than dating wasn’t a surprise, considering how much he loved animals.

“You can’t call women that,” I teased and punched him playfully in the shoulder. He feigned that it hurt all while laughing.

This right here with him… this was nice. I hadn’t known how to connect with Peter when he was a kid—and honestly, I still didn’t—but it was easy being able to joke and fuck around with him like this.

“Can I see your home?” Peter asked, sounding genuinely interested.

He’s not, the voice chimed in.

I did my best to shut those thoughts out.

Here and now. That was what mattered.

He was here.

He asked.

He wanted to.

That meant something.

“Yeah,” I answered slowly, but I glanced over my shoulder to where Lincoln stood waiting. “Give me just a minute to talk to Lincoln, though. I need to give him the heads up.”

I knew Lincoln would be all in for me showing Peter where I lived. That was a very normal thing to do, and Lincoln was all about the normal things.

“Sure.” His grin was huge, damn near breaking his face, and his enthusiasm was palpable. I did my best to return the enthusiasm, but it felt forced.

Leaving him with Charlotte and Mitchell, I walked down the sidewalk to join Lincoln. I shoved my hands in my pockets as I put my back to them, giving Lincoln my full attention.

“How are you?” he asked, stepping closer.

“Um…” I blew out a long breath while trying to put my thoughts in order. They were jumbled and chaotic, good and bad mingled together. “Peter wants to come back and see your condo.”

“Our condo,” Lincoln corrected.

His condo, the voice insisted.

“It’s your home too, Lucky.”

It’s not your home, the voice cut in.

I shut my eyes and counted slowly to ten, trying to organize my thoughts. Fuck, I was struggling. This whole ordeal had my head a mess. I didn’t like it.

“Lucky,” Lincoln began, stepping closer. His fingers toyed with the ends of my hair, and his breath was warm on my face. “Talk to me.”

“Just been a day,” I admitted. “I’ll be fine.”

At least, I hoped I would.

No, you won’t, the voice piped in.

“Do you want him to come visit?” Lincoln asked.

“I don’t know.” That was the honest truth.

“Whatever you decide, I support you.”

It felt an awful lot like we weren’t talking about Peter seeing his condo.

“I don’t deserve you,” I whispered before I could stop myself.

“Well, now that’s just a lie,” he retorted. With a quick smile, he added, “I’m a lawyer. I’m well-versed in identifying true and false statements.”

He’s lying, the voice commented.

“I don’t,” I said instead.

“I know you think that, Nash.” He pressed a soft kiss to my forehead. “But I know that you do, and that’s enough right now. One day you’ll see it too.”

He said the words with such confidence, like he truly believed them. Fuck, I wanted to believe them too.