Page 38 of Right Next Door (Stone Family #3)

Ian

I arrive at Cuppa Jo fifteen minutes early to meet my brother and sister because I’m a sad sack of shit after everything that’s happened, planning on staring at my cell phone, waiting for Nicole to text me.

She’s been gone exactly three days, and while I know she promised she’d come back to me, I’m doing my very best to give her the space she asked for, even if it’s killing me.

Between the few messages and nightly calls, I should be satisfied, yet I’m not.

I’ll never have enough.

I’m insatiable when it comes to that woman.

Especially with her sending me selfies every morning, proof she’s drinking water. I could use a few more, naked, and then another video or two, but it’s nothing compared to having her in person.

Having her in my arms soothes my stress.

A smile, and my day is better.

Hearing her voice, and I’m reminded all over again of why I love her. That soft-spoken yet cheerful tone is a cool lake on a hot day, the first snowflake in winter, shelter from the rain. She is comfort and beauty and my sanctuary.

A memory hits me as I sit at our usual table with the order of coffees, and I close my eyes to sink into the vision playing out in my mind.

It was a long time ago, when Nicole was probably just out of college and working for her aunt next door at Chapter and Verse.

We almost never spoke then; I was newly divorced and she was so young, but there was one day she met me out front on the sidewalk with my mail—an occurrence that happens sometimes when our envelopes make it into each other’s piles.

I remember her standing there, dark brown hair catching the sun, a timid smile slow to grow on her face. I don’t recall what she said to me, if anything at all, and I certainly don’t know if I had any words for her, but I do know my mother witnessed the brief interaction.

She was there to pick up June, and it’s as if it happened yesterday. The way I can see Mom tip her head in curiosity as she watched Nicole turn back to the bookstore. “I like a girl who reads,” she said offhandedly. “She seems sweet.”

I thought nothing of it then, but my heart lurches when I hear my mother’s voice in my head, her bright smile when she looked at me. “Pretty eyes too. Matches my necklace.”

She lifted the small pendant. My siblings and I put our money together to gift it to her when we were younger, a simple chain with an aquamarine gemstone because it was her favorite color. She wore it every day after.

I don’t know why that memory stands out to me now, except it wasn’t long before she passed, and there were so many times this summer I wished Nicole and my mother could have met. But I guess they kind of did. And Mom liked her.

Goose bumps rise on my arms, and I scrub my hands over them as I think of the box I have Mom’s jewelry stored in.

When we went through her belongings after the funeral, each of us took something—Griffin pictures, Taryn I Love Lucy baubles, and Roman a blanket and pillow.

I chose the few pieces of jewelry she wore, including that necklace, some bracelets, a ring that belonged to her father, which he brought with him from Persia, and her mother’s wedding ring, a thin gold band inlaid with tiny diamonds.

Mom had sold the engagement ring my father had bought for her, but she kept her family heirlooms.

They’re mine now.

To do with what I’d like.

And I believe my mother wouldn’t mind seeing her mother’s ring on Nicole’s finger.

“Hey,” Taryn says, breaking me out of my thoughts, and I move to make room so she can sit next to me.

Griffin follows, taking a seat opposite us, and accepts his coffee with a nod. “We thought we were gonna be early.”

I eye my siblings. “Why were you coming early?”

“To make sure we understood the gossip before we asked you about it,” Taryn says, completely unrepentant.

I roll my eyes. “There is no gossip.”

“Okay,” my brother mumbles sarcastically. “Even I heard it, and I don’t usually hear anything.”

I rub the heels of my hands against my eyes. “Clara’s got a big mouth.”

“She’s trying to protect Nicole,” my sister points out, and I know that, but she also doesn’t know how claustrophobic being in the spotlight makes Nicole feel.

“It would be better if everyone stopped talking about it. Nic hates being the center of attention. She’s had some bad experiences in her past with rumors, and I don’t want her traumatized any more than she already is.”

“So you know about those past bad experiences?” Taryn asks, alluding to a second unasked question. Why do you know about them?

Since I told my kids, and it feels like the entire town watched what happened the other day, I guess it’s time to set the record straight. “Her husband is an asshole.”

My brother and sister don’t argue. In fact, they have no reaction whatsoever, as if I’m stating a fact.

“And before he went away on a work trip, he told Nicole he wanted an open marriage.”

That earns a tic of Griffin’s brows and a narrowing of Taryn’s eyes.

“Nic and I…we were always friends, but then…”

“Come on, man,” Griffin says after a sip of coffee. “You’ve always liked her.”

“Yeah. You didn’t hide it especially well,” Taryn agrees, and maybe I did always like her. But I never let myself imagine anything could ever actually happen.

“So, you two got together, and now her husband is home, and he’s pissed,” Taryn guesses.

“He confronted Nicole at work because she asked him for a divorce, and that’s what all the rumors stemmed from.

And so you both know the truth, I love her.

I love Nicole, and we’re going to be together.

I know it’s messy, but I’ll deal with whatever comes my way.

I don’t care what people say about me, though I do care what they say about her.

I’m not asking you to defend me, but if you hear anything about her, I am asking you to speak up on her behalf because she doesn’t deserve it. She is a good woman.”

I aim that last bit at my brother because of the tiff we had at his picnic, saying I was ruining her life, and he turns a bit sheepish, curling his hand around the bill of his cap, sucking air through his teeth.

“I know I apologized already, but I didn’t realize it was so complicated, and I’m sorry. You are a good man, and I’ll always have your back. Nicole’s too.”

Taryn knocks her elbow into my side for my attention. “And I wouldn’t be worried about what people are saying, because it’s basically all about how much they love Nicole and her store and how Bryce was the biggest dick for screaming at her like that.”

The reminder of it makes my blood boil all over again. “I wish I’d been there. God… I would’ve liked to…” I mime wrapping my hands around his neck.

Griffin agrees with a nod, though he says, “It’s better you weren’t. Because I’m not sure you would’ve listened to reason, and it would’ve been like a bear versus a raccoon. I’m glad I didn’t get a call to attend some kind of mauling downtown.”

Taryn raises her coffee cup in a silent cheers. “I rather like having you around and not in prison.”

“Yeah. I guess the trade-off is better.” I release a tired sigh and scratch at my beard before leaning back against the booth. “So… Now that we got that out of the way, one of you tell me something good.”

After a sip of her coffee, Taryn tells me that her pitiful ex-husband has stopped fighting her and has given her full custody.

I throw my arm around her. “Holy shit! Why didn’t you say anything before?”

“Because you’re going through stuff.”

“Yeah, but this is amazing. He’s finally out of the picture.”

She winces. “Not quite. He’s still their dad, and I told the kids I won’t keep them from seeing him if they want to.”

Griffin huffs. “They don’t want to, and I don’t blame them. We know what it’s like to have a piece of shit for a father.”

We go quiet after that, the happiness about Taryn’s win dimmed a bit, even as we chat about the day-to-day events of our lives. Plans for the fall and the kids going back to school, and after we all finish our drinks and say goodbye, I’m still feeling uneasy and decide to take a walk.

My limbs buzz, and it could be the afternoon hit of caffeine or my impatience at Nicole not returning my text, asking if she’s decided when she’s coming home, but either way, I’ve walked two miles before I’m conscious of it.

My mind a million miles away—or, more accurately, 608 miles away in Bar Harbor, Maine.

I want Nicole to stay there as long as she needs. I want her to be happy.

And I also could probably walk from here to there without stopping for how badly I need to be by her side. Feel like I’m doing something other than sitting on my fucking hands.

She didn’t want me going to talk to her motherfucker of a husband, fearing it might turn into a physical altercation, and that’s fair, but asking me to simply wait is like asking a wolf to stay on a leash.

Nicole is my girl, my family, and she’s hurting. Yet I’m supposed to let her handle it. She can—I know she can—but she also knows that I will always give her anything she asks for. And by making me stand on the sidelines, she’s taking me out of the fucking game.

Cutting my knees out from under me.

As much as I hate the toxic alpha bullshit, I don’t know what to do with all this pent-up energy from not being able to defend her. To protect what’s mine. So I walk another mile and imagine Bryce Kelly’s head on a spike.

And suddenly, I’m out front of my childhood home, the house where I spent the first fifteen years of my life.

The one my parents bought together and the one my mother eventually sold to pay off all the bills.

We moved in to a tiny apartment, where I slept on the couch so Taryn and Griffin could share a room, while Roman slept with our mom.

I stick my hands in my pockets and rock back on my heels, taking in the run-down ranch with the cracked driveway, dirty siding, and ugly brown paint on the window frames. The grass is patchy, the garage door is dented, and the rain spout is missing.

But there is a For Sale sign stuck in the yard, and I snap a picture. Roman wanted to know what became of our house, which holds a lot of good memories despite the bad ones, and I send it to him, along with one single line.

Come home.

Then I spin on my heel and head back the way I came, toward Aster Street, where I make a stop at the pet store to buy more treats for Mr. Darcy since he’s running low and my newly adopted son has taken a liking to the homemade ones in the shape of fish.

I plan on spoiling that little dude like I spoil his mother.

Till death do us part.