Secrets Of The Heart (Book 1, The Heart Series) (7 page)

An hour later, Bree, clasping the precious locket to her chest, leaned her forehead against the cool pane of glass. She looked out into the dark night from Sydney’s second floor bedroom window.

Her breath steamed on the glass, fogging her view. Her daughter’s faint snoring in the bunk bed behind her comforted Bree, assuring her at least Sydney seemed at peace.

Hugging herself, Bree trembled. Her hands did little to heat her bare, icy arms. The thin T-shirt she now wore held no warmth or protection.

“You’re not a virgin, silly,” she scolded herself softly. It did nothing to still the quivers. “You might as well be for all the shaking you’re doing. And for all your lack of experience.”

That little remembered tidbit only increased her nervousness. Nick would discover that glaring fact soon enough, hence the problem.

She knew Nick waited for her on the front porch; he’d warned her when he came in to kiss Sydney goodnight. She shifted her stare to the roofed porch below and to her left, seeking him out.

The crescent moon cast silvery light across the yard. An arch of yellow widened as the door opened. A shadow moved restlessly, merging with the buttery luminosity, next swallowed into the darkness, and then materializing once again.

“Nick,” she whispered, realizing he prowled the wide, wooden planks. He acted as jittery as she felt. That little bit of knowledge forged a lasting kinship with him.

After all, we’re in this together, she reasoned. Her instinctive withdrawal from Nick splintered, and then peeled away.

Gathering her courage, Bree stood, straight and tall, ready to face the inevitable. Wiping her damp palms on her faded jeans, she marched out of the small room and down the stairway.

She slowed when she neared the big, wide opening to the porch. With each step, her heart crashed against her ribs in a wild tempo.

Gulping hard, she pressed on toward the threshold. She gasped in alarm as Nick came into view. He filled the frame, tall and broad-shouldered.

Lord, he looked handsome in his dark blue UCONN sweatshirt, a hint of white underneath revealing his T-shirt, and tight well-worn jeans. “I was just coming out…” her voice trailed off.

He stepped back, giving her room to pass. A wave of his body heat and his scent attacked her, causing her to stumble. He caught her easily, pulling her close. She held herself rigid for long, drawn-out moments, and then, in spite of her mental opposition, she succumbed to the irresistible man cradling her. Time stood still for Bree. Enveloped in his welcoming, comforting embrace, she drank it all in. His warm, large hands splayed on her back, reminded her of much needed balm to a raw wound.

Here she discovered a serenity she felt nowhere else. Here, in his strong arms, she received no harsh judgments, only solace from the guilt and shame she heaped on herself. Here she found a safe haven.

Tucking her face into the side of his neck, Bree inhaled the intoxicating combination of his tangy after-shave and his male scent. Bree leaned into him more, pressing her aching breasts to his rock solid chest, bringing an answering thrill to her blood.

Suddenly, he clamped his hands on her shoulders, pushing her away. “We need to talk.” His words rang with strained determination.

Hurt, she pulled back. She berated herself for her fanciful notions; she had grave doubts he’d ever see her in a favorable light. The humiliation of her actions burned in her cheeks. “I owe you an apology.” The stiffness in her voice could have starched a shirt.

Nick sighed, his hot breath fanning her face.

Twisting away, she turned her back on him. As she made her way to the porch steps on shaky legs, she heard him close the door with a definite click, stemming the stream of light.

Now only silvery moonbeams washed the landscape and the porch. Bree plopped down on the top stair, circling her knees with her arms. “I’m sorry. I thought that’s what you wanted.” That’s what
you
wanted, she said silently, her body still humming with delicious delight, her heart still thumping in her chest.

“It is and it isn’t,” Nick said, confusing her even more. He took a seat beside her. A mere four inches separated them.

“You’ve…lost me.” She shivered. From the chilly night or from him, she couldn’t say.

He yanked his sweatshirt off, and then handed it to her. “Here, take this.” When she hesitated, he put it on her.

Some strange, invisible thread tugged at her heart as he tenderly smoothed the garment over her, making certain to cover her fully.

“Thank you,” she whispered. The heat from his body clung to the fabric, surrounding her in badly needed warmth and sandalwood after-shave. Something low and deep tightened in her core, sending an ache mushrooming through her soul.

Why did she always want what she couldn’t have? She knew Nick held fast to his loyalty to Vinnie, to his distrust of her.

Silence reined, blanketing Nick and her in a shared moment of awareness.

The peep frogs sang to each other in a song of loneliness, strumming a similar chord in her.

Bree looked on in wonder as stars twinkled in a rhythm all their own. The sweet scent of pine on the cool night air swirled around her, heightening her senses.

The world went on as it always had and always would. And Bree realized how strange life turned out; here she sat in awe beside the most appealing man she’d even known, her husband.

“I guess I have some explaining to do,” Nick offered with a hint of reluctance, his rich voice a salve to her injured pride. Taking a deep breath, he went on, “In all my years on the force I’ve learned one vital key to relationships: communication. That’s something you and I lack.”

A stabbing pain speared Bree’s chest; she knew he spoke the truth. She chuckled. It came out raw and strangled. “You can say that again. We’ve used others as a buffer, haven’t we?”

“Yeah. Too much, it seems. Do you realize that for everything we’ve gone through in the last five and a half years we barely know each other?”

“I think I did that on purpose.” She bit her bottom lip, afraid she’d revealed too much.

He turned to her. She felt the heat of his stare on her profile. Silently, she sensed he questioned her. Refusing to meet his gaze, she waited for him to speak.

“I did, too,” his deep voice cracked and he cleared his throat. “I’ve read all the manuals, taken all the required courses while on the force, but when it comes to reality it’s a different ball game all together.”

She smiled, warmed by his insight, his willingness to form a healthy, happy marriage. Hope blossomed. “We’ve got Sydney’s welfare in common, that should help some. It’s a beginning.”

“We have more than that in common. We both grew up as only children and lost our parents before we were twenty. Mine to a car accident, yours to illness.”

“You were lucky to have Nana.” She couldn’t stop the wistfulness in her voice.

“Yeah. She was a character, though.” Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him shake his head. “All these years I’d always thought I took care of her, but, after losing her, I’ve discovered she was the one keeping me together.”

Something sharp pierced Bree. Empathy. Without thinking, she shifted, her knee pressing against his thigh.

Reaching out, she placed her hand on his lower arm. Heat warmed her and the soft hairs on his arm tickled her palm. A current buzzed between them, making her highly aware of the intimate situation. “You helped each other in more ways than you realize, Nick.”

Silvery light bathed his unreadable face. Somehow, in the ensuing silence, Bree understood the wealth of emotions that shafted through him, the well of grief and the healing power of love. She sensed an intangible bond forged them together.

“Thank you.” His soft, vibrant voice slipped into her heart, into her soul. He lifted her hand from his arm, and then gently fitted it between his two palms, intertwining fingers.

The innocent clasp, and his stroking thumb, caused a sharp ache, a deep longing behind her rib cage. One half of her wished to yank her hand away from his fiery brand. But, the other half, the half that hungered for so much more, stilled her, accepting this tiny bit of heaven.

“There’s more that links us than separates us,” Bree said, trying to hold onto that ethereal cord. He squeezed her hand, in agreement, she hoped. The warmth seeped into the tiny cracked crevices of her center. “I never could find a way to thank you for all you did for me when I carried Sydney. You had this uncanny knack for calling me late at night right when I needed someone to talk to, to ward off the fears.”

“Do you think I’d let you go through that alone?”

“Oh, I know you said you felt you should since Vinnie worked the graveyard shift, but, for whatever reason, you did it, I was grateful. And for all the times you and Nana just happened to be in the neighborhood and drop in on the evenings when Vinnie had a class, I can’t tell you how much that meant to me.” She stopped, embarrassed at her candor, at what she’d revealed.

A strained silence followed until he broke it. “I was ashamed of my son for not living up to his duties. I thought I taught him better.” She knew how much that admission had cost him.

“Oh, Nick, don’t blame yourself for that. In some ways, he was like you, but not in the ways that counted, at least to me. He grew scared. Instead of being at my side he dealt with it the only way he knew how, by distancing himself.”

“Like Dorthea,” Nick said, with a hint of stunned wonder as if he’d only just realized that fact.

“Not everyone lines up their priorities like you do. You put family first, you always have and you always will. That’s one of the things I admire most about you. That’s something we both share. I know, as much as it hurt me, that’s why you wanted custody of Sydney; she’s all the family you have left.”

Nick stiffened his back. His guilt antenna went on alert. She gave him more credit than he deserved, more than he would ever accept.
Not when I betrayed my own flesh and blood by kissing her.

“You’re wrong, you know.” He felt her drawing away at his harsh tone, but held fast to her soft, tiny hand. He wanted license to touch more than her delicate hand. But he knew this wasn’t the time or place to take such liberties. There was a still a wall between them. “I’m not that noble, so don’t make me out to be or you’ll be very disappointed.”

She sighed, the rush of warm air caressing his face. “It’s all that good old-fashioned Catholic guilt eating away at you. Don’t be so tough on yourself.”

He snorted. “It’s not just habit. It’s what I’ve earned.”

“Your penitence? Is everything beyond forgiveness, according to your rigid rules and regulations?” Disgust colored her voice.

“It’s what I believe.”

“It’s what you’ve been force-fed for years,” she countered, irritating him. “I’m surprised at you, Nick, I’d heard you lost faith when Vinnie died. If you really had you wouldn’t be living by the church’s code of ethics any longer.”

“Damn it, Bree!” He sucked in a ragged breath. Dropping her hand, he broke their fragile connection. He clenched his hands into fists, warring against the truth of her words. “Maybe it’s
my
code of honor. Did you ever think of that?”

“And there’s no room for misdeeds, are there?” She sounded close to tears.

“Not in my book,” he bit out, knowing how unreasonable it sounded, yet sticking to his creed.

“You’re thinking everyone has to be this ultra-perfect, super person. We’re not robots, Nick. Everyone makes mistakes, everyone deserves absolution.” She faced forward again, hugging her legs.

A wave of regret assaulted him at the total loss of contact and at the usual nasty end to their conversations. “You wouldn’t say that if you had to deal with some of the criminals I’ve met.”

He ached to feel the same as Bree. He admired her bottomless reservoir of forgiveness, her unshakable belief in people, in God. He failed to find the same sterling qualities in himself anymore, ones he once held dear. That hurt, nagging his conscience. He’d lost everything when he’d lost Vinnie, including himself.

“There are reasons why people do what they do. They may not be rational or even understandable justifications even to me, but I allow room for that difference of opinion.”

“Excuses, you mean.” He paused, heaving a sigh, trying to dislodge the ever present weight on his soul. He despised the hard, cynical edge he’d adopted when his son died. “Lord, I hate liars.” His faith in people had been sorely tested over the years. Doubts shadowed Nick, making him question the goodness, the honesty of others.

“Liars?” Her voice sounded empty.

He frowned. “You know, people who hide the truth.”

“Maybe you can get them to add lying to the seven deadly sins, bringing the number to eight.”

Her sarcasm cut deep. “It’s got nothing to do with religion. I can’t count the times I’ve had someone lie to my face. Lying is the one thing I will
never
tolerate.” Hadn’t he lived with a barrel full of lies with Dorthea?

“Even if it’s for a good cause?”

“No motive holds water against honesty.”

She turned to him abruptly, taking him by surprise. In the dim light he watched her shadowed eyes shift back and forth, clearly trying to find a crack in his armor. Something in the way she searched signaled his suspicions. His gut churned, bile rising to his throat. He nearly choked on the bitterness.

“I’m warning you now. Don’t ever lie to me, Bree.”

She stilled, letting the pulsing silence blanket him. “Who made you judge and jury? Tell me? Is being a cop so damn important that you see things only as right and wrong? What about compassion for others, for yourself?”

“I don’t deserve it.”

“God, Nick, haven’t you ever done something you’ve regretted, something you couldn’t take back, but wish to hell you could? And in order to be able to look in the mirror every morning you’ve had to forgive yourself just so you could go on living?”

Something inside Nick fragmented into a thousand little pieces like shards of splintered glass. How could she know the demons he fought? “I can never grant myself mercy for what I did.”