“
We're doing okay," she said slowly. "I've told
you what life was like with Marty so you know that
there wasn't a lot of extra cash each month. I held
down the only steady job in the family, so that made
things tight. When Marty got the inheritance, it
seemed like a miracle."
“
I was surprised when you told me he'd agreed
to buy a house. It doesn't sound like his style."
“
Oh, it wasn't. We had huge fights. In the end,
he gave in, but with a twist. We bought this place
instead of a regular single-family home." She glanced around at the high ceilings of her
third-floor living area. "At first I hated it. The last
thing I wanted was a big mortgage and a lot of re-
modeling. When Marty died, I was furious. I'd been
left with this disaster. But over time, I realized it
was the best thing that could have happened. We get
a lot of tourists up here, and many of them love the
idea of staying at a bed and breakfast. I've been able
to do most of the remodeling myself, which has
saved a lot of money. I make my own schedule, and
I'm here when the boys get home from school. A
regular job would mean day care and that would be financially impossible."
“
Interesting information," he said, "but you
haven't answered the question."
“
We do okay," she told him. "Some months are
tight, some aren't. I did manage to keep a small life
insurance policy up on Marty so when he died there
was some money from that. I put it away. If push
comes to shove, it's my emergency fund. Fingers
crossed I never have to use it." She held up one
hand.
“
If all goes well," she continued, "I'll use it to
pay for the boys' college. So I'm fine. Really."
He smiled. "You're more than fine. You're re
sponsible, giving and a great mom."
His compliment pleased her, which she told her
self was silly. Still, she sat a little straighter and
fought the urge to beam.
“I try.
“You succeed."
She shifted and, still facing him, leaned against
the back of the sofa. "Okay, fair's fair. You got to
ask me a very personal question and now I get to
do the same."
“
All right."
She thought about all the possibilities and settled
on the one that troubled her the most.
“Tell me about your wife." She watched closely, but Nash's expression didn't change. "What do you want to know?"
“Whatever you want to tell me. Whatever..."
Her voice trailed off as a horrifying thought oc
curred to her. Did he not want to talk about the
woman because she still mattered so much? He'd
claimed not to be thinking about her when they made love, but what if he'd been lying? What if
there were ghosts who
“
That's not the reason," he said.
She blinked at him. "What are you talking
about?"
“
I'm hedging because I don't know what to say
about her, not because I'm heartbroken."
“
That's a relief." She pressed her lips together.
"Wait a minute. How did you know what I was
thinking?"
“
It was a logical assumption."
“Uh-huh."
She didn't buy that for a second. But what other
explanation could there be? How strange that Nash
knew her so well after just a short period of time,
and despite all their years together, Marty had never
known her at all. Was Marty's lack of knowledge
due to some flaw within him, or had he never found
her all that interesting?
“
When I started working for the FBI," he said,
"I quickly learned that emotional detachment was
an asset. Nearly every situation is difficult on some
level and leading with your heart is a good way to
make the wrong decision. Staying emotionally dis
tant was something I'd learned while I was growing
up and it served me well at the bureau."
Having heard about his close family, Stephanie
couldn't imagine how or why Nash would detach.
Sometimes he seemed a little distant with his family,
but that could have been shyness or emotional re
serve. Nothing about his relationship with her and
her kids indicated he was anything but emotionally
available, but this wasn't the time to go into that
particular subject. She filed the question away to
spring on him later.
“
I've told you a bit about Tina. She was my opposite. Emotional, disorganized, leading with her
heart instead of her head. I wasn't even sure I liked
her at first." His gaze narrowed slightly. "I'm talk
ing about after she was an agent. I never considered
her as anything but a co-worker during training."
“
Of course not," she murmured, believing him.
Nash would never break that kind of rule.
“Dating led to more dating. After a while Tina
suggested we live together. Marriage seemed like
the next logical step."
How interesting, she thought. Had Tina been the
one guiding the relationship? Nash almost made it
sound like he was only along for the ride.
“
How old were you when you got married?" she
asked.
“Twenty-seven." Okay—the right age for most guys to think about
settling down. So had Tina been in the right place at the right time? Not a question she would be ask
ing.
Stephanie resisted the urge to slap herself upside
the head. She knew exactly what she was doing. If
she could convince herself to believe Nash had mar
ried Tina because it was "time" and not because he
was wildly in love with her, somehow that would
make Stephanie feel better about their relationship.
Crazy but true. She told herself to get over it.
“
You didn't have a chance to have kids," she
said. "I guess she passed away before you got
around to that." He shrugged. "We never talked about it. I always wanted children. I guess Tina did, too. Then she was killed."
“How?" she asked before she could stop herself.
“In the line of duty. A bomb exploded."
She'd been expecting a lot of answers, just not
that one. A bomb sounded so violent. Because it
was
violent, she thought. Violent and unexpected and
shocking.
“
I'm
sorry," she whispered.
“Thanks."
Nash's expression hadn't changed as he talked,
but there was something in his eyes that tugged at
her heart.
“
Want to talk about this more or change the sub
ject?" she asked.
“Let's move on."
“
Okay. So how did a guy with a twin brother and
close friends learn to disconnect emotionally while
he was growing up?" she asked.
He shook his head. "Easier than you might think.
My mom married a guy when Kevin and I were
twelve. Howard and I never got along."
That surprised her. "Still? But he and your
mother are expected the day after tomorrow. Is that
going to be a problem?" She frowned. "Why on
earth did you want them staying here if you two
aren't speaking?"
“We're speaking. And we get along." The words sounded right, but she wasn't sure she
believed them. "You're not going to be yelling at
each other in the foyer, are you?"
“
No. If there's any yelling, we'll do it outside
where it belongs." She smiled. "Fair enough. So is this emotional detachment you're so fond of the reason you haven't gotten involved with anyone else since your wife's death?"
“
No. I've avoided relationships because I loved
Tina and I can't ever love anyone else again."
Stephanie stared at him for several heartbeats, then burst out laughing. "Oh, come on. That's ri
diculous. You can't love again? Did we move from
real life to a TV soap? Are you saying the human heart is capable of only loving once? What about
my three kids? Should I send the twins back because
I already loved Brett when they arrived?"
Nash looked as shocked as if she'd pulled a gun
on him. The charged silence between them made her
wonder if she'd gone too far. He couldn't be serious
about not loving again—people didn't work like
that. But did he believe it? Had she just insulted him big-time?
She waited anxiously as he stared at her. She
couldn't read his expression...not until one corner
of his mouth twitched.
“
You're not buying my best line?" he asked at
last.
Relief swept through her. "Not for a second. Who has?"
“Everyone but you."
“I see. Are these ‘everyone’s' women?"
“For the most part."
“
Then you need to start dating women with
slightly higher IQs."
He laughed and grabbed her around the waist,
then hauled her onto his lap. "I prefer my women
to have a little more respect than you do, Missy."
She settled her hands on his shoulders and
brushed his mouth with hers. "That so isn't going
to happen as long as you talk like an idiot."
“Idiot, huh? I'm one idiot you can't resist."
She leaned in to kiss him again. "You're right
about that," she whispered and gave herself up to
him.
Chapter Twelve
“
Batter up," Brett called, as he tossed the base
ball in the air and caught it. "Adam, it's your turn."
Adam walked to the square marked on the grass
in front of the house and clutched his bat. From what
Nash could tell, Adam might be the quieter twin,
but he was the better athlete. So far he'd been the
one to hit the ball every time Brett pitched it.
Brett pitched a slow ball and Adam swung. There
was a
crack
as the bat connected, then the ball flew directly back to Brett who had to jump to catch it.
“
Good hit," he called to his brother.
Nash stood at the end of the porch, leaning
against the house. The boys were playing in the side
yard to, as Stephanie put it, "Avoid as many win
dows as possible."
The late-morning was warm and clear—the per
fect weather for the start of summer vacation.
The boys had tumbled out of bed surprisingly
early, apparently too excited by the thought of no
school to sleep late. Stephanie had predicted their
behavior, which meant she'd left his bed around four
in the morning. He'd slept until he'd heard not-so-
quiet footsteps on the stairs about quarter to seven.
He was tired and his eyes felt gritty, but lack of
sleep was a small price to pay for spending the night
with a woman who defined female beauty and sex
uality.
He quickly checked his thoughts, knowing that if
he dwelled on all they'd done together while in bed,
he would end up in a very uncomfortable state. It
didn't seem to matter how many times they made love; he always wanted her more. Last night had
been no different.
He heard the front door open, then the sound of footsteps on the porch.