Page 25 of The Meaning Of You (Fisher & Church #1)

Madigan

It took until Monday evening, almost twenty hours later, for the police and medical personnel to send me home. It wasn’t the end of the questioning, but I was done for the time being.

The paramedics who’d treated me at the marina insisted on transporting me to the hospital for chest X-rays and further investigations of my ear and the state of my hearing. My lungs were given the tick of approval with a caveat to be seen by my own doctor within the week. There was no way to tell if I’d stopped breathing at any point, but if I had, it couldn’t have been for long. The doctor suspected I’d probably just taken some water on board after my head inconveniently collided with the boat’s hull, but who knew?

The ear, nose and throat surgeon had ummed and ahhed before muttering something about the ear canal being filled with dried blood and grossly inflamed, but that I’d somehow escaped any major trauma to the delicate internal structures and would heal on my own, given time. He’d then stitched the tear on the outer ear—which hurt like a motherfucker—popped in some drops and slapped on a dressing. I was sent home with various pills and potions, and handed an appointment for further examination down the track.

The bullet graze on my shoulder was a lucky escape that I was still trying to process. If I’d leaped just a little higher, it could’ve caught me under my armpit. I didn’t want to think too hard about what that meant. That close to death was sobering to say the least, and not only for me.

Nick had stared at the shallow wound for a long, long time, and although I itched to know what was going through his head, I didn’t ask. He had his own demons to deal with, and right then I didn’t have the strength to add his to my own. He would do what he would do. We’d been inseparable on the jetty, but since arriving at the hospital, Nick had fallen worryingly quiet, his gaze nervously flicking on and off mine, his expression unreadable. He held my hand and said and did all the right things, but there was an uncertainty in his eyes that I found hard to decipher.

But I couldn’t give it any time or energy either. I was done. Cooked. Exhausted. Spent. There was nothing left in the tank to cope with Nick Fisher’s emotional vacillations. I’d reached the sad conclusion that if, after everything that had happened, Nick wanted to back away, then fuck him.

If that was the case, we’d never had a chance anyway.

The police questioning had been intense, to say the least, and thank God for Samuel. He brokered all the interviews, which thankfully were done at the hospital, acted as a go-between, and made sure I was looked after and comfortable. But he had his hands full with Nick who was ready to pull the head off anyone who showed the slightest inkling to pressure me. In the end, it all went relatively smoothly.

Tobin, or Ross, or Ben as Gazza knew him, had been run down and cuffed before he’d reached the boat, and Gazza had been right there to rip him a new one loud enough to wake half the marina as the guy was arrested. There was even a mention of a well-placed boot in the balls before the arresting officer managed to pull Gazza off.

Ben’s brother was another story. He’d made it to shore in the dinghy and was yet to be located, but the police had some solid leads and an arrest was expected within days. Ben himself wasn’t talking, other than to say he had no idea who the man was I’d seen taking Lee away. That he and his brother had simply been paid to help locate a missing person who they’d been told could be in danger. Yeah, right. After that, he’d clammed up and asked for a lawyer.

I told the police my suspicions about the identity of the guy in the next cabin and that I thought he might be Australian. I learned later from Samuel that a man with a passport issued under the name of Lee Shepherd had left New Zealand for Australia while we’d still been in the hospital. He was in the company of another man and the New Zealand police were in contact with their Australian counterparts.

It was Samuel who drove us home. Nick didn’t say much, but he held my hand all the way. I figured we were both shattered.

Gazza and Jerry had been released much earlier in the day, and when we walked in the front door, I saw straightaway that they’d been busy, along with Lizzie who I hadn’t expected to see there but should have. Nick had warned me about the state of the house when he’d last seen it, but as I looked around, it was spotless. No fingerprint dust. No blood on the wooden floors. Every pillow plumped and chopped. I almost laughed.

Instead, I cried. Big, fat, ugly tears rolling down my face in an emotional blast of disbelief and gratitude.

I’d been dreading what I’d find. Dreading the reminder of watching Nick crumble to the floor. Of the two men appearing from my study when he’d left to get the iced tea. Of the gun. Of every fucking thing that had happened since. Of my quiet life exploding before my eyes.

Lizzie took one look at my face and caught me in her arms before my knees gave way. “Shirley helped,” she told me. “She wanted to be here when you got home, but the officer insisted on returning her to Golden Oaks once we got the news. She was pissed as hell, let me tell you. Be ready for an earful when you next see her.”

I tried for a smile but it fell flat.

“Come on.” Lizzie pulled me away from Nick’s side and I could’ve sworn I heard him growl. She walked me to the couch and everyone grabbed a place to perch so we could catch up. They plied me with questions and I returned the favour, but it was much briefer and more sombre than I’d imagined. More like a wake than anything else, and maybe that was closer to the truth than I wanted to believe. We’d all lost something over the last couple of days. Faith. Trust. A sense of security. The bubble had burst.

Samuel received a call just before seven and took it outside. While we waited, Lizzie brought hot tea and sandwiches. Nick remained glued to my side as he had since the jetty, hovering dangerously like a protective mumma bear, including snarls. I’d have been flattered if I wasn’t too busy waiting for the other shoe to drop.

When Samuel returned, he looked less than happy. “Melbourne police called the contact number Lee Shepherd gave on his customs documentation. Lee answered the phone and told them he had no idea what they were talking about. He said his decision to return to Australia had been coming for a while and assured them he was there of his own free will. That he didn’t need any help. The detective who made the call said he sounded... nervous.”

Silence filled the room and everyone looked at each other.

My heart felt like a hollow ball in my chest as I remembered the expression of sheer terror on Lee’s face when he’d walked past the galley and up the stairs.

If I’d been faster with the ties. If I’d gotten to him sooner.

“I’m guessing no one believes that bullshit?” Gazza spat the words. He’d been worryingly quiet ever since the jetty, his demeanour reserved, his eyes haunted.

I didn’t like it.

Being lied to and taken in by Ben had done a number on him. He could barely meet my eyes. He felt responsible for the alarm code, and he even admitted Ben had pumped him for information about me. Gazza said he hadn’t given Ben much because he knew how important privacy was to me.

I didn’t want him feeling guilty and we needed to talk. I just didn’t have it in me right then.

Lizzie took Gazza’s hand. “We can worry about that tomorrow, honey. We all need some sleep first.”

Gazza wrapped his hand over top of hers and gave her a grateful look. They’d clearly bonded in a few short hours together, and the thought made me take a second look around the room.

Five people filled my lounge, every one of them a friend... or more than a friend. They’d cleaned my house and cared for me, been there for me, even fought for me. This wasn’t my life of even just a day ago. It wasn’t anything I’d thought I ever wanted. Three months and Nick Fisher had turned my quiet world upside down.

I tried to feel pissed about that, but all I felt was... grateful. Five people in my house at the same time and the world hadn’t come to an end, not yet anyway. I wasn’t even sure I wanted them to leave. Wasn’t sure I could sleep on my own if they did. The mere thought sent me perilously close to panic.

I stole a sideways glance at Nick and our eyes met. He squeezed my hand and leaned close. “I’m shutting this down.” He regarded me seriously. “You’ve had enough, Mads. I’ve had enough. I’m going to put you in bed.”

A small smile crossed my lips. “Oh, you are, are you?”

His cheeks pinked. “You know what I mean.”

I lost the smile. “No, actually, I don’t.” I swallowed the tremble threatening my lips. “I’m not sure I know anything anymore.”

He didn’t flinch, his gaze steady on mine. Then he stood and pulled me up beside him. “This is done,” he told the group. “The rest can wait until tomorrow.”

I wanted to protest that I was quite capable of speaking for myself, thank you very much, except it would’ve been a bald-faced lie. I could barely think, let alone string a line of sensible words together, and the effort required to walk from the lounge to my bedroom suddenly seemed daunting.

Lizzie looked between Nick and me, and a small smile played on her lips. “Well spoken.” She clapped her hands twice. “You heard the man. I’m happy to drive anyone who needs it, home. The rest of you aren’t safe to be behind the wheel.” She elbowed Samuel. “You should know that Jerry and I have become fast friends, so you can explain yourself later.”

Samuel groaned and wrapped an arm around Jerry’s shoulders. “You couldn’t have lied?”

She grinned up at him. “Now where would be the fun in the that?”

Gazza caught my eye and quickly looked away, shrinking back into his chair like a wounded animal. I tugged free of Nick’s grip and stumbled across to take his hand. “How about you crash in one of the guest rooms tonight? You look about as whacked as I feel.”

He searched my face and I didn’t miss the relief in his eyes. “Are you sure?”

I nodded and brushed that pink lock of hair aside. “You saved my life, Gazza. The information you gave. The photo. Without that, who knows if they’d have put the pieces together.”

His face relaxed but not for long. “It hurts, Madigan.” His eyes shone brightly. “All of it. Ben. You. The lies. I let that fucker sleep in my bed. I let him touch me. I believed him and he almost killed you. I’m so, so sorry.”

I leaned in until our foreheads were touching and gripped him around the neck. “You have nothing to be sorry for. You’re not the one in the wrong. He is. I love you, Gazza, and I will always be grateful for what you did.”

He wrapped me in a hug that continued until Nick squeezed my shoulder. “Come on. It’s bed for you.”

Gazza looked between us and got to his feet. “I’ll take the room at the end.”

“You know where everything is.” I gave him a hug and watched him go.

One by one, Lizzie, Samuel, and Jerry also made their goodbyes and Nick saw them to the front door. Before he left, Samuel drew Nick aside. The way Nick glanced my way as they talked left little question as to the subject of the conversation, although I was far too tired to give a fuck either way. I didn’t give a shit what Samuel thought about the possibility of Nick and me. I was pretty sure it was a moot point anyway.

Nick locked the front door and set the alarm as per my instructions and then made his way back. “And then there were two.” He slipped my hand through his arm and steered me towards the hall, turning lights off as he went. “How’s the ear?”

“What?” I couldn’t resist and he chuckled.

“Yeah, yeah, funny guy.” He leaned his head against mine. “But seriously. How are you feeling?”

He turned me into the hall and then left into my bedroom. I barely made it to the bed before I sank gratefully onto the mattress. “Fucking sore, if you must know.”

“I’ll fetch your medication.” He disappeared back into the lounge and returned with a brown pharmacy bag and a glass of water.

I began working my way through the labels but when I’d dropped one of the bottles for the second time, Nick prised the bag gently from my hands and looked himself. I’d have normally chewed him out for the audacity, but I had zero fucks left to give. All I felt was grateful for the excuse to just sit there.

“Here you go.” Nick tipped two pills into my palm and I swallowed them down with the glass of water, not bothering to ask what they were. Then I kicked off my shoes and tried and failed to get my shirt over my head. I cursed at the ripping pain in my shoulder and was about to give up when Nick’s legs appeared in front of me.

“Let me.”

I huffed my displeasure but lifted my arms as best I could and he slipped the top of the hospital scrubs over my head. Then I undid the knot in the bottoms and eased myself back on the mattress so that Nick could pull the things down over my hips. That left me in nothing but a pair of black briefs and a frown. It should have felt all kinds of awkward but it didn’t, and I wasn’t quite sure why.

The bed dipped alongside as Nick sat, our thighs touching.

“There’s a whole bed, you know.”

He rested his head against mine and said nothing.

I caught the drift of antiseptic and whispered, “I didn’t ask how you were doing. Twenty sutures are a lot. Does it hurt?”

“Like a motherfucker.”

I gave a soft snort. “Well, I’m glad you’re okay, even if it hurts. You weren’t moving when they took me away and I—” My voice broke. “—I didn’t know what to think.”

He slid his hand into mine and threaded our fingers together. “Me too. We were taking too long to find you and I was losing my shit. When I saw you on the jetty, it was like I could breathe again for the first time.”

I blinked back a tear, my emotions so close to the surface my skin was humming with them. The tiniest slip and I’d be exposed to the world. To him. And I’d be undone.

He elbowed me gently. “You still awake, sunshine? I mean, your eyelids are open, but I fear there’s not much happening in here.” He tapped my forehead.

I rolled my eyes and pushed his hand away. “Your bedside manner could use some work.”

He fell quiet, the two of us sitting there like a pair of mismatched bookends.

“You want me to leave?” he whispered.

And there it was. Did I want him to leave? For a simple question, it seemed monumentally difficult to answer, and perhaps that was an answer in itself. I turned sideways on the bed and he did the same.

I met his troubled gaze. “I think the more pertinent question here is, do you want to?”

Nick frowned and studied my face for far too long. “I think we both know the answer to that.”

I gave a put-upon sigh, because really? It seemed he was having as much trouble answering the simple question as I was. “Indulge me, please.”

I expected him to dredge up all the reasons this wasn’t a good idea like he had so many times in the past, but instead he surprised me.

He took both my hands in his, those serious grey eyes travelling my face with something close to wonder.

I turned his left hand over in mine and lifted the words tattooed there to my lips. Will you? I pressed a kiss in place.

His eyes met mine, the significance of those words not lost on either of us. Then he leaned in, stopping just shy of my mouth. Close enough for his warm breath to brush across my lips and send a jolt of electricity crackling down my spine.

“What I’m starting to feel for you is something I never thought I’d feel again.” His gaze intensified. “And I can’t deny it scares me. You scare me.” He pressed a butterfly kiss to my nose and my heart took flight.

“You scare me too,” I admitted, reaching up between us to rest my fingers on the dense scruff of his jaw. “You’re not the only one struggling here, Nick, even if for very different reasons.”

He turned his head and pressed his lips to my palm. “I know.” He kissed it again, then turned back. “We’re past the naivety and ignorance of youth, and I think that can make things harder in some ways. We know what it takes to make relationships work. The sacrifices. The compromises. We know the chances of the other person changing are pretty minimal. And we know that you can fall out of even the strongest love if you don’t look after it.” He licked his lips.

I nodded. “It seems easier to not take that risk, right? Safer?”

Nick squeezed both my hands. “It does, as cowardly as that sounds.” And yet he was still sitting there. Still holding my hands. He’d kissed me. He hadn’t left. He hadn’t moved. And he hadn’t answered my question.

I dropped my hand and pulled away just enough to see him clearly. “I don’t like needing another person, Nick. I’ve spent my entire life avoiding that very thing, keeping a firm grip on my boundaries. I don’t like waiting for someone to call or look my way, or to decide whether or not they’re willing to take a chance.” I met his solemn stare with one of my own. “I won’t trade down to something purely physical, not with you, and I won’t wait forever. Not even close. I have a good line in self-preservation, and I fully intend to use it. You have the power to hurt me more than anyone before you.”

He cupped my cheek with one hand. “I wouldn’t?—”

I slipped from his hold. “What happened this weekend opened my eyes to a truth I’ve been running from for a long time, and now I can’t go back.”

Nick stilled, his gaze fixed on mine, his expression suddenly uncertain.

I took a breath and steeled myself. “I want to live a lot more than I have been, Nick. I want to love a lot more too. And I want the chance to be loved by someone who feels the same. Maybe that’s you. Maybe it’s not. But I’m not about to settle for less. Not anymore.”

Nick said nothing for a moment, just closed his eyes and took a deep, slow breath. When he opened them again, he lifted his hands either side of my face and paused. “Can I?”

Against my better judgement, I nodded. It might be the last time Nick Fisher ever touched me.

He cradled my face, thumbs brushing my cheeks. “My turn.” He shot me a brief smile that could’ve meant anything. “I thought I’d lost you, Mads, which is crazy since I never really had you. But it still frightened me, maybe as much as the idea of us being a thing .” His smile was warmer that time. “Until that moment, I wasn’t sure if I could survive losing someone so precious to me ever again. Then yesterday happened and I realised it was too late. You already mean too much to me.” He swallowed hard. “It’s been confusing to say the least, having those kinds of feelings so close to—” He stopped mid-sentence.

“So close to Davis’s death?” I cupped his jaw. “You can say his name, Nick. You can talk about him. We can talk about him. I want to talk about him. You think he’s not in my head every time we’re together and even when we’re not? I’m struggling with what all that means as well. With what you mean to me .”

“I know. I know” He pulled me close and brushed his lips over mine.

It was all I could do, exhausted as I was, not to throw all my caution to the wind and melt against him, begging for more.

He rubbed his nose against mine. “And I want the chance to be loved by you as well. My heart knows it even if my head can’t imagine it. Come here.” He pulled me down with him onto the mattress, so we were lying face to face. “What I do know is that when you dived into that water, when I thought you might be dead, it felt like I was being ripped in two. Like you were taking me down with you. Like there was nothing left. Davis and then you. And I knew I didn’t want that. I knew I wanted more... with you.”

A tear broke my lashes and rolled down my face. Nick leaned in and kissed it away. I pressed our foreheads together. “When we left the jetty last night, I thought you were pulling away.” I leaned back and stroked the side of his face, fingering the bruise along his jaw. “And in the hospital, it felt like you couldn’t look at me. I thought you were having second thoughts.”

His mouth quirked up in a sheepish grin. “Does it suck to admit I wanted to at first? My default position, right?”

I chuckled. “It doesn’t suck. I get it.”

His gaze wandered my face like he was seeing me for the first time. “But then I asked myself—” A fingertip trailed across my lips. “—what bonehead walks away from a second chance at happiness just because he’s too fucking scared to believe in it? I didn’t have a lot of love when I was growing up, certainly not the kind you can trust. But I’m not that kid anymore. Davis taught me that. And I think he’d want this for me too.”

A grin spread over my face. “So, I guess the only thing left is for you to answer the question. Do you want to stay, or not?” My heart galloped against my ribs.

Nick wriggled forward and pressed his lips to mine, on and off, barely a peck. “Yes, I want to stay.” He stared into my eyes, our lashes almost tangling. “There’s nothing in the world I want more. We take it slow, but we take it, agreed?”

I nodded. “We take it slow.”

His hand slid around my neck and he drew me forward, his mouth finally covering mine, his lips moving in a slow, languorous kiss. A soft moan broke the stillness of the room as his tongue slid into my mouth, hot and greedy, searching, tasting, delving deep like he couldn’t get enough.

I groaned and hooked a leg over his hip, deepening the kiss, my fingertips digging into his back, his thick cock pressed against my belly, heat radiating through my groin and into my balls, my dick plumping despite the exhaustion that threatened to drown me.

He kissed his way down my throat, sucking the indentation at the base before nipping along the length of my collarbone, avoiding the dressing on my shoulder. Then he made his way back up to my ear, suckling on the soft lobe before running his tongue around the shell to pepper my skin with goosebumps.

His hand cupped my arse, and I groaned and arched into him, looking for friction, for anything to drive the feeling deeper.

“You are so beautiful,” he murmured between kisses. “I’ve wanted to do this for a long time.”

“Stop talking and keep kissing,” I grumbled, cupping his balls through the pair of hospital scrubs he’d also been given. “And you have way too many clothes on.”

“So do you.” He found a spot just below my ear and drew it into his mouth.

“I’m only wearing briefs,” I pointed out, my head falling back to give him better access. “Oh, god, right there.”

“Exactly,” he whispered, redoubling his efforts on my neck. “Too many clothes.”

I snorted and began grinding against him. Then just as I was about to chuck all our stupid resolutions to the wind, Nick slowed everything down. He released my arse, sucked in a shuddering breath, and let some space form between us.

His hands moved to my face and he kissed me softly. Then he arched a brow. “I want you too badly and this is too important to rush. Slow and steady, right?” He angled his hips so that our still-solid cocks brushed against each other and gave me a wicked grin. “Anticipation is everything.”

I tweaked his nipple, making him jump. “Spoilsport.”

He smirked, then frowned and fingered the dressing on my ear. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

I shook my head. “I’ll survive.”

He smiled and kissed me again. “So, that leaves us with the most important question of the night. Left side or right?”

I reached for the sheet and turned it down. “In my bed, you take the left. We can argue the rest later. And lose some clothes. I feel underdressed.”

“How many clothes?”

My turn to smirk. “As many as you’d like.”

He slid from the bed and dropped his clothes in a pile on the floor, making no effort to hide all that lean sexy muscle covered in grizzled hair. My gaze tracked shamelessly over his body, down his chest, the dark buds of his nipples hard in arousal, his belly soft and flat, that silver happy trail thick and tempting. All the way down to his glorious plump cock, thick and gently bobbing, slick around the head, making my mouth water.

I rolled my eyes. “Because of course, you’re commando.”

He gave an innocent shrug. “I couldn’t stand wearing those damp briefs longer than I had to.” He moved to get on the bed but I stopped him.

“Nope. I haven’t finished looking.” I ogled him brazenly for a second time.

And he let me. Mature and confident, weathered and comfortable in his own skin, Nick let me look my fill without a shred of self-consciousness.

“Why the owl?” I pointed to the tattoo on his chest.

His expression became distant and he fingered the design. “It was my mother’s favourite bird. Silly, I know, but I like the reminder that there was more to her and to our relationship than just her leaving me. She’d have taken me with her if she could, I know that now. She was a good mother caught in an impossible situation and she had a choice to make. Who knows if she didn’t make the wisest choice after all?”

I studied the soft expression on his face. Nick meant the words, I knew that. But there was a lot of healing still to be done.

A sly smile stole over his mouth and he arched a brow. “You still have your briefs on, just saying.”

I glanced down. “Huh. How about that? Are you saying you want them off?”

He waggled his brows. “Seems only fair since I’m standing starkers here. Perhaps you’d let me do the honours?”

I wriggled up until my head was on the pillow and opened my arms. “Be my guest.”

He took hold of my ankles and pulled me toward him. Then he slipped my briefs down over my hips and onto the floor. “Gorgeous.” He ran a finger down the length of my very interested cock. “Hi there. I’m looking forward to getting to know you.”

I chuckled, then gasped in shock as he bent over and pressed a tiny kiss to the head of my dick, the effect rippling through my body like a goddammed earthquake.

When he straightened once again, I shivered in the wake of those hungry eyes. Every inch the silver fox and looking at me like he wanted to eat me alive. “Damn. You’re gonna be fun. Now roll over.”

I switched off the light, then scooted under the sheet and turned to face away.

Nick slid in behind and wrapped an arm around my waist, holding me close as he kissed the dressing on my shoulder, the rough of his stubble sending little bursts of joy over my skin. “You feel good.” He pulled me closer, careful to avoid my shoulder and groin.

“You too.” I nestled back, smiling at the way his cock twitched against my arse.

He grunted and shuffled back. “Fucking tease.”

I lifted his hand to my lips, then settled it back on my stomach. The room fell quiet, bar the sound of Nick’s breathing at my back, heavy with a lingering arousal, much like mine.

“I keep thinking about him.” I broke the silence.

Nick moved at my back. “Who? Lee?”

I nodded and drew the sheet under my chin. “I can’t sit back and do nothing. I know we’re not responsible for that notebook, but I still feel guilty about giving them his name. God knows what’ll happen to him.”

Nick tucked his legs behind mine and tightened his hold. “I know. I feel it too. But right now, I just want to enjoy holding you in my arms. We can talk about the rest in the morning.”

I nodded and snuggled down, relishing the feel of Nick’s arms around my body. Safe. Wanted. No guarantees but it was a start. A good start. Maybe the best.

We lay that way for a long time, still and silent, the heat of his body at my back, his hand heavy on my belly, the soft brush of his legs against mine, our breathing in synch, a silver wash of moonlight striping the bed.

It should’ve felt strange.

I should’ve felt awkward.

It had been so long.

But all I really felt was . . . home.

THE END