Chapter 17

While Hank examined Amy early the next morning for a follow-up, Olivia figured it was a good time as any to grab her friend some things from her house. Nakos and Nate had teamed up on her, though, and now she had a rigid Nate next to her in the passenger seat along for the ride. Heaven forbid she go anywhere alone.

"I find breathing is a necessity most days." She glanced at him and back to the two-lane highway. "You should try it." Poor guy was tense enough to give concrete a run for its money.

"I'm breathing."

"In and out? In succession?"

He turned his head with a baleful narrowing of his eyes. "I'd breathe a lot easier if you hadn't tried to sneak off this morning to the house of the very man who put that bruise on your forehead."

Hooray. Another Nakos. On steroids.

"I'm fine, Nate. Chris is locked up and I didn't sneak."

Returning his attention ahead, he offered nothing more.

They had other things to discuss, anyway. "Wanna talk about last night?"

"No."

Too bad. "Why not?"

"Because I'm still fucking hard." He muttered a curse and jerked his gaze out the side window. "Pretend I didn't say that. You shouldn't have kissed me."

"Why not?"

He hadn't exactly put up a fight. Andwow. The man could kiss. Every cell in her body remembered his hot mouth and deft tongue. The hard planes of his muscles while his hands were irrevocably gentle. She suspected it had taken restraint on his part, judging by the tension he'd radiated and the way he shook. His initial response still had her reeling. Like he had no clue what to do with her. He'd let her lead and, she swore, he hadn't known what the act of kissing entailed.

She'd spent the remainder of the night aching and dissecting every moment. The only conclusion she'd drawn was that he wanted her and hated himself for it.

When he didn't respond, she glanced at him again. "Why not?"

"Because I want to do it again."

Her throat tightened at his quiet declaration and the gutting tone. Just what had happened to him to make him think he wasn't worthy of basic human essentials? Relationships. Connection. Happiness. He behaved as if he was punishing himself.

Unsure what to say, she drove the rest of the way to Amy's little two-bedroom ranch and used her spare key to get inside. Olivia stopped short in the living room and gasped. Nate stepped beside her, jaw tight.

The place was completely overturned. Tables tipped onto the threadbare carpet. Lamps broken. A hole in the drywall. Clutter everywhere. What Amy must've gone through Then Olivia's gaze dropped to the floor by the TV stand, and she cried.

"No. Oh God, no." She knelt next to Amy's broken camera. Her printer/scanner machine littered the floor beside it, in pieces also. "She saved for two years to buy these."

Damn Chris. Damn him to hell.

Nate squatted next to her and examined the camera, gaze dialed to homicidal. "It's shot, but maybe we can salvage what's on the memory card."

Heartbroken, she rubbed her chest. "I'm going to kill the bastard."

Chris had always been a selfish jerk, but she'd not known he could be cruel. And to someone he supposedly loved. He and Amy had only been married a few years. He worked at her parents' hardware shop in town and was relatively new to Meadowlark, having only arrived in the area and dated Amy a couple months before they'd wed.

"Jump in line." Nate pulled out his phone and snapped a picture of the camera, then the printer. "I get first dibs on rearranging his face." He rose and shook his head. "Go get her some things. I'll take pictures and clean up a bit."

Since there was nothing else she could do, she nodded and headed to the bedroom. There, she pulled a suitcase out of the closet and packed several outfits, pajamas, and undergarments for Amy, then grabbed a smaller suitcase for cosmetics. Figuring she'd want them, Olivia put a few photos of Amy's family in the luggage to bring, as well. If she needed anything else, Olivia could always come back. For now, it would do.

Upon returning to the living room, she found everything righted and Amy's equipment gone. Olivia went into the kitchen and spotted the missing items on the table. This room was unscathed, though the checkered linoleum floor and oak cabinets needed updating badly.

Nate was at the sink, washing dishes. With his back to her, she watched him, suddenly fighting tears. Such a simple act, him cleaning up, but it meant a lot. Very thoughtful. When Amy was well enough to return, if she wanted to, then at least she'd come back to a clean house.

Not a good guy? Bull.

A fitted gray t-shirt molded to his torso and muscles shifted as he moved. Graceful. Efficient. For such a large man, he was quiet as a mouse and unimposing. His well-worn jeans hung low on his hips and she tilted her head, enjoying the way his butt filled the denim. He'd forgone the black baseball cap he usually wore. She studied the back of his bald head, wondering why he shaved it. Not that she minded. He rocked the look.

"Do you need my help carting something or are you just watching me for the hell of it?"

Busted. "The hell of it. You're easy on the eyes, Nate."

He paused a moment, his spine stiff, then finished rinsing the last of the dishes. Shutting off the water, he reached for a towel and turned to dry his hands, studying her. His expression gave nothing away, but the longer he stared, the more weary his eyes grew.

His lids had a soft, almost feminine curve to them. Like a puppy, really. Long lashes. Golden flecks in the irises to keep the dark chocolate from being too engulfing. His mouth, though? Full and just shy of pouty.

With a sigh, he tossed the towel on the counter and, his gaze averted, cleared his throat. "You ready to go?"

"Yes. We just need to grab two suitcases from the bedroom."

He shoved off the sink. "I'll get them and meet you outside."

She swore, the harder he fought her and the simmering attraction, the more she wanted to push. She'd never considered herself forward, but something about him had her taking the initiative. Sometime, somehow, she'd get him to snap. And their sparks would catch to create an inferno. It was inevitable. Maybe then he'd let her in a little. To help. To trust. See himself how she was beginning to and not whatever image he'd put there.

Nathan Roldan had been hurt. No doubt. Just how badly and for how long was yet to be determined. But he was not a lost cause. He'd shown more courtesy and compassion toward her in a few weeks than most had her whole life.

For now, though, they went to the police station and gave Rip an official statement. Olivia tried to ignore the stench of burnt coffee and sugary pastry, and the fact Chris was just down the hall in a cell. Nate, from his phone, emailed Rip the pictures he'd taken of Amy's house.

As they were getting ready to leave, Rip gave Nate a once-over. "You interested in a job?"

Nate flinched. "Here? In law enforcement?"

"Yeah, son." Rip smoothed his Fu Manchu. "You handled yesterday like a pro. I could use another man. I've got two other deputies, but they're worth spit most days. County's not that big. Not much happens around here. Former Army, you said?"

As if confused, Nate nodded. "Medically discharged with honor."

"Got a criminal record?"

Nate paused, and Olivia's heart tripped rhythm. He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye and back to Rip, shoving his hands in his pockets. "A juvie record."

Rip's eyes narrowed. "For what?"

Yes, for what? A chill raced up her spine. Justin had never said anything about Nate being arrested. The breath caught in her throat. She wondered if her internal radar had suddenly taken a crap.

"Dealing." Nate's jaw ticked.

"Weapons?"

She darted her gaze back and forth, stomach in knots.

"Cocaine."

Rip nodded slowly. "You clean now?"

"I never took drugs." Nate shifted to his other foot. "I did what I was told and ran packages to specific locations. I served eighteen months in a facility, aged out, and enlisted. End of story."

"And that will check out?" Rip crossed his arms.

"Yes. I can give you someone's name inside the system and my captain's recommendation."

"In that case, do you want a job, assuming those folks tell me what you just did?"

Nate studied him a long beat, then pulled his phone out of his back pocket. His thumbs went to work while Olivia tried to process. "I sent you an email. Jim Foggerty was my juvie parole officer and Ken Wainright was my captain. Their contact info's in there." He rubbed the back of his neck. "As for the job, I'll have to think about it. Talk it over with" He gestured to Olivia, gaze down.

A minute later, they walked to her car, and Nate gently stopped her with a hand on her arm before she could climb in. "Nakos didn't see the arrest in my background because I was a minor and the record was sealed. I can be packed up and off the ranch in under three minutes, if that's what you want."

She took in his haggard, concerned expression and tight mouth. Her first instinct was to grab him to keep him put. Now that she'd had a second to accumulate the facts, her stomach settled. She didn't know the circumstances, but he'd been a kid when this incident had happened. By all accounts, he'd seemed like a solid guy since.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

He glanced heavenward. "It's not exactly something I'm proud of, Olivia."

That spoke volumes. And he didn't give excuses, either. "How old were you?"

He stared at their feet, sunlight reflecting off the skin on his head. "Sixteen. I got mixed up in shit I didn't understand and had no way to get out. I was stupid." He stared at her, desperation clear in his eyes. "That's all you need to know except I would never, ever do anything to hurt you or compromise the ranch." He paused, and she swore he stopped breathing. "Just say the word and I'm gone."