Page 115 of It's Not PMS, It's You

Screw the speed dating.

Taking matters into my own hands was the only way to go.

Smiling, I walked past a cute girl building a sand castle, while her mother took pictures.

“Who are you?” Nick asked, finally catching up with me at the edge of the water.

I laughed, walking past a couple of teenagers playing catch with a football, stepping into the ocean up to my ankles. “What are you talking about?”

I knew exactly what he was talking about.

He walked into the water up to his calves, and then turned around to face me. “I invited you to have some fun and spread your wings, but honestly I was skeptical that you would actually do it.”

“Ahhh . . . did you underestimate me, Nicky?”

He chuckled. “By a mile. And I think I’ve created a monster.”

I placed my hands on my hips. “And does this monster scare you?”

Nick grabbed a piece of seaweed floating next to us and tossed it. “Not even a little. I like what I see.” He glanced down at my body, then looked back up and held my gaze. “A lot.”

I got those goosebumps again on the back of my neck.

“Well, looks like that makes two of us.” I returned the favor, running my eyes over his body and enjoying every inch of it.

Nick was in great shape.

No six-pack abs or ripped muscles, but he definitely took care of himself.

Glancing at the scar on his chest, I couldn’t help feeling lucky that he survived the heart attack and surgery and was standing with me here today.

I quickly looked away, so he wouldn’t feel self-conscious.

“It’s okay,” he said. “You can look.”

I nodded, glancing at the scar again.

Sympathy and compassion filled my senses.

I wanted to reach out and touch the scar, but I resisted. “What happened exactly? You mentioned stress was involved, but I don’t know the whole story. Would you mind telling me? I really want to know.”

Nick thought about it before he spoke. “I don’t mind. It happened back when I owned a different landscaping design company before the one I own now. My ex, Crystal, pushed me into growing the company. I resisted at first because the business at that time was in my comfort zone. I could easily control everything, especially since I enjoy getting my hands dirty.”

I nodded, letting him continue.

“I had no stress. I could be selective with the clients I wanted to work with because my services were in demand. I could take time off whenever I wanted. It was an ideal situation, although the time off wasn’t as fun as I had hoped since all my wife ever wanted to do was work. I ended up having days off by myself.” He gestured to me. “You know what the life of a workaholic is like.”

I nodded again, feeling a little embarrassed. “Yes . . . I do.”

“Anyway, she kept pushing me, saying I could grow the company to a size where I would be able to let someone else manage it for me, butIwould still make good money. She said that could easily pay for Lindsey’s college and lead toward an early retirement for both of us. I ended up expanding the company, not because of Crystal’s reasons, but because I was tired of arguing with her. I took on more employees, other designers, a bigger office, labor workers, etcetera. The company was getting huge and big money really started coming in. Deep down it didn’t feel right, because I was never motivated by money, but I kept moving forward. Part of the problem was that I never did like the business side of things. The money, the numbers, the paperwork.”

I nodded, letting him continue.

“I loved designing and seeing my creations come to life before my eyes. But I was doing less and less of that as the company grew. I no longer enjoyed my job. With more responsibility came more stress, which led to me working way more than I wanted to on things I didn’t like, which led to more stress and eating unhealthy foods. Then came the high blood pressure and abnormal cholesterol. Andthatled to even more stress because I was worried about my health, too. Everything just kind of spiraled out of control and my body finally said enough is enough. That’s when I had the heart attack.”

“Wow.”

He nodded. “Yeah. Five days in the hospital and I gotthisas a souvenir.” He touched the scar on his chest. “Andthisafter I fell from the heart attack.” He pointed to the scar on his chin. “It wasn’t a fun time in my life.”