Page 32 of The Question of Us (Fisher & Church #2)

Things like: So beautiful. So sweet. Let me hold you. I’m here. Let me bring you back. Big breath, baby. Love your body. Every gorgeous centimetre. Love your touch. The way you move. So good. So, fucking good.

At length, Nick pushed me back a way, a wry smile playing on his lips. “You love this fifty-something body, huh? Kind of a low bar, wouldn’t you say?”

I didn’t smile. Instead, I pressed a hand over the owl on his chest and said, “Yes. This fifty-something body. Every grey hair and wrinkle. Every line of experience. Every scar on your skin and all those invisible ones too.” I tapped the owl over his heart.

“There’s wisdom in this heart, and that’s sexy too. ”

He searched my face and then kissed the end of my nose. “So you say.”

I narrowed my gaze. “I do say. The best sex is a lot more complicated than just two young, hot bodies coming together. That’s just wrapping paper.

Youthful sex doesn’t always live up to the hype, something you often don’t understand until you get older and have your eyes opened.

When both your heart and soul kick in and the focus moves outside of yourself to giving and not receiving.

” I thought about my words and sighed. “Not that I’ve had a lot of experience with that until—” I caught his eye. “—well, you, I suppose.”

Nick stared at me, although maybe gaped was closer to the mark. “You think we have that?”

I frowned, feeling suddenly vulnerable. “You . . . don’t?”

He said nothing for the longest time, and then a warm smile danced over his lips. “I do think that. I just didn’t know that you did as well. I’m not sure the under-thirty-fives would agree with your theory, but I know exactly what you mean.”

I swallowed hard. “You had that with Davis, didn’t you?”

Two beats of silence, then Nick nodded. “Yes. Although it’s different with you. Not better or worse, just different. Like a fingerprint. Davis and I together made one fingerprint. You and I make another.”

The bathroom fell quiet as we continued to stare at each other. Unspoken words hovered in the air between us. Monumental words, at least on my part. Words that could and would change everything. Dangerous words that screamed loudly in my brain but could never be taken back.

I grabbed Nick’s hand and steered him toward the bath. “Come on. The water’s getting cold. You first.” He climbed in and I told him to scoot forward. He shot me a curious look but did as he was told, and I slipped in behind. “Did you and Davis ever consider having children?”

Nick stilled in my arms long enough for me to guess it was a touchy subject.

Then he answered, “We talked about it, sure. Davis would’ve liked them but he didn’t push.

I still carry a lot of hangups about my father.

I suppose I’m terrified of becoming like him.

The genes are there, and I didn’t exactly have a lot of alternative examples to follow.

Dad had few friends beyond his drinking buddies.

If Davis and I had met when I was younger, then maybe things would’ve been different.

I would have had time to work things through, maybe go back to therapy.

But by the time I was beginning to understand that I wasn’t my father, we were both a lot older and the subject never really came up again. ”

“Do you have any regrets about that?” I pressed gently.

He thought for a moment. “Maybe. Davis would’ve been an amazing dad, so I regret it for his sake. Then again, Davis is gone, and I’m not sure I would’ve done a great job of parenting on my own after the accident. How about you? Do you miss not having kids?”

I pulled him back against my chest and soaped my hands.

“Sure, I suppose. It’s more that I would’ve liked the choice, I think.

Not that I couldn’t have tried on my own, fostered or surrogacy or something.

But I think I really wanted the whole family package, if it was going to happen at all.

And when the right guy didn’t come along, I set those thoughts aside and got on with life. Now, stay still and let me wash you.”

Nick turned his head for a kiss and I obliged, running my soapy hands over his chest at the same time. “You’re a bossy bastard, do you know that?”

I grinned. “So it’s been said.”

I felt like I was reading Nick a lot better.

Gruff and acerbic and primed for a fight more often than not, it was too tempting to stand back and give him the control he so craved, sensing it was what he needed as well.

But when he’d asked me to fuck him and then proceeded to become putty in my hands, I’d been forced to recalibrate.

Yes, Nick was all those things, but he was also that small boy who’d never been cared for and who’d built Jericho walls to protect himself against being vulnerable.

Trust was thin on the ground in his world.

You had to earn it. But when you did and those walls dropped and he let you inside, it was such a fucking privilege and one I’d never take lightly.

I didn’t know what Davis had done with that privilege, and I didn’t want to.

Not yet. There would be time for the story in the future.

All I knew was that Nick had an aching, parent-shaped crater in his soul, one I intended to help fill in the only way I could.

By caring for him whenever he’d let me. By reminding him that he didn’t have to carry the world and do everything on his own.

That he could let go. That he could share the load.

That I had his back if he’d let me. That I could be trusted with both his pleasure and his pain without running away.

“Mmm, that feels good.” He ran a hand up and down my calf as I set about rinsing him off. “But you might’ve missed a bit.” He looked meaningfully over his shoulder and I smiled.

“You always save the best for last, right?” I soaped my hands once more and then reached around his waist to thoroughly wash his soft dick and balls.

He chuckled and squirmed, sending the water sloshing over the edge of the bath.

Neither of us bothered to look, which told me Nick was as content as I was to linger in the moment.

Once I was done, I lifted the mixer with my toe and welcome warmth sluiced into the cool water. Nick relaxed against my chest and I brushed my lips over the back of his neck. “We haven’t really talked about how you felt seeing Marty and Freddie at the sales,” I reminded him.

Nick gave a heavy sigh. “Because I don’t really know what I feel. Can we leave it at that?”

“We can,” I agreed. “Just remember I’m here if you want to talk.”

He tipped his head back to see me. “I know, and I will. Just not right now. I feel like I’m barely keeping a lid on things as it is. Is that okay?”

I kissed his forehead. “Of course it is.”

Nick didn’t respond, but I could almost hear the cogs in Nick’s brain whirring as we fell into silence once again. It was a while, but when he eventually spoke, he was practically shaking.

“I’m sorry.” He turned enough for me to see his face. “I promised that I would keep talking, and here I am shutting down again.”

“It’s okay,” I reassured him. “I understand.”

“But you shouldn’t have to.” He sighed and turned back around. “I wanted to kill those bastards when I saw them at the sale,” he spurted, his voice thick with emotion. “So slick. So arrogant. Living their lives like they hadn’t just spent two years destroying mine.”

I tightened my hold and kissed the side of his neck.

“I wanted to draw out the pain so they understood what they’d put me through.

Take their lives away from them, one little piece at a time.

The urge was so strong, my hatred so intense, it scared the shit out of me.

I’m not that guy, Mads. Once, maybe. But only ever in defence, and I’ve tried hard to change.

I’m rough, yes. Impatient and irritable, yes.

But not violent. Not like that. I saw way too much of that when I was growing up.

I vowed never to repeat it in my own life, physically or verbally.

But in that moment, the first time I looked at them, I wanted nothing more than to end them then and there. ”

“No, you’re not that guy,” I agreed. “And no matter how much you wanted to, I believe you would never have done that. A bit of a dust-up, yes. I’d even join you in that.

Hell, I’m hardly that fond of the bastards myself.

But wanting to do something and doing it are two different things.

And this here—” I put my hand over his heart.

“—is way too beautiful to have ever let you go that far.”

Nick placed his hand over mine. “I’m not so sure. Maybe we all have a piece of that darkness in our souls, the capability for that kind of violence, but I don’t think we’re ever meant to see it. It’s too fucking scary. Because where’s the line between me and them?”

“It’s the line between thought and action,” I repeated, kissing him again.

He huffed. “Maybe. You wanna know what stopped me?”

I rested my chin on his shoulder. “Of course.”

“The realisation that if it hadn’t been for them and what they did, I would never have met you. How’s that for a fucked-up revelation? After that, the anger disappeared and all I felt was guilty.”

I gathered him close and showered his shoulders with kisses.

“It’s a fucked-up thing, isn’t it? And I don’t think there’ll ever be an answer that makes sense.

It’s a one-foot-in-front-of-the-other process.

It happened. We did meet. Davis died. And now we have each other.

It’s how it is. I can’t think beyond that.

You can’t let those animals live in your brain like that.

Don’t give them the satisfaction. They’ve had enough of you already. ”

Nick went quiet for a moment, then he lifted my hand to his lips and kissed the palm. “Thank you.” He kissed it again and gave a soft huff. “Yet another topic to take to my therapist. The list is growing by the day.”

I chuckled and rested back against the bath. “Okay, well, I have another equally awkward question as well, if you’re up to it.”

He groaned. “Go on then.”

I leaned forward and nipped his shoulder. “Are you truly not worried about Friday night? I need you to be honest.”

Nick didn’t respond right away, which I took as a good sign, meaning I’d get a serious answer.

He shuffled ninety degrees, leaned back against the wall, and hung his feet over the edge of the spa bath.

“I’m not not worried,” he answered cryptically.

“There are risks, for sure, but I see it as the best opportunity we might get. Turning up at his house uninvited is pretty much off the table after the supermarket conversation. I doubt we’d get a different answer and could even put him at risk.

But he doesn’t know Gazza, so the party offers a perfect opportunity for another go.

And because Marty and his friends will be there, Lee will likely try to avoid a scene. ”

I frowned. “There’s a lot of ifs involved, don’t you think?”

“Doesn’t stop it being our best chance.” He cupped my cheek. “But if Lee shoots us down a second time, we need to agree to leave it, okay? We can’t help him if he doesn’t want it.”

I bristled at the idea but I knew he was right. “Agreed. But there’s a wrinkle in the plan you seem to be avoiding.”

Nick angled his head. “And that is?”

“Samuel. Your brother-in-law.”

He groaned. “I’m not avoiding?—”

“We have to tell him, Nick.” I jumped in before Nick could go off on all the reasons Samuel didn’t need to know our plan.

“If anything goes wrong and we need help, someone has to have our back. Someone has to know where we’re going and when.

” Nick fell deadly quiet and I could tell he wasn’t happy with me. Too bad. My reasoning stood.

Eventually he nodded, grumbling, “Fine, I’ll call him. But not tonight. I don’t want to give him time to pull the plug on us or set his Aussie cop on our tail.”

“He can’t do that,” I said evenly. “Gazza has a legitimate invite to a legitimate party. No one can stop him from going.”

“What about me?” Nick reminded me. “I don’t have an invite. I’ll be trespassing.”

“Well—” I took a second to remind myself of that inconvenient truth. “—we don’t necessarily have to tell him everything, do we?”

Nick chuckled and settled back against me, his body loose in my arms. “I thought you were a rule follower.”

“I am,” I answered saucily. “As long as they’re my rules.” I pinched his waist while he wasn’t looking and he jumped, sloshing more water onto the floor. “See, I can do subterfuge.”