"At least we got to finish the display and the reports before my surprise vacation." She nodded toward the open garage door full of gardening supplies. "I'm keeping busy around here in the meantime. I figure I can sabotage most of Mom's gorgeous landscaping by the end of the week."
The perfect excuse to hang around here longer and launch his plan to resurrect their unlikely friendship.
"Want some help? For your dad, of course." He winked.
Snorting, she rolled her eyes. "You're picking on me, aren't you?"
"More than a little."
"I think I lost my sense of humor along with a few hours of my life." She scooped a second sweatshirt off the hood of her truck and tugged it over her head on her way to the garage. She could pull on five layers and his mind's eye would see the beauty underneath, his hands itching to tunnel inside for a second sampling.
"About my dad—" she sidestepped a table saw on her way to the wheelbarrow "—I had to tell him what's going on before the news filtered over there."
He walked up alongside her in the garage, the scent of motor oil arousing as hell when mixed with a hint of Nikki's soap. "That must have been tough."
"Totally sucked." She passed him a rake. "I was so proud of myself for being independent, and yet, here I am."
She emptied the wheelbarrow, tossing two bags of mulch on the cement floor and grabbing the handles to roll it outside. Empty oak branches swayed overhead along with evergreens. She'd run a couple of miles and now planned to cool down with yard work? This woman really did need a friend's support more than maybe even she knew.
"Independence doesn't mean stupidity." He scraped the rake over the yard, gathering a growing tidal wave of dead pine needles. "It's good, normal and damned lucky to have family you can count on who know they can count on you."
"What about your family?" She knelt to scoop up the growing pile of pine straw with her hands. "You mentioned a sister."
"My sister's married, lives with her husband in Ireland."
"Ireland? Wow, you don't hear that one all that often."
He rubbed his thumb against two fingers in the universal "money" symbol.
"Ah, lucky for them."
He shrugged, raking faster. The Prices seemed a helluva lot richer to him with their overflowing home and working class values.
She stared up as she rose to take the handles again. "The whole 'money doesn't buy happiness' notion? Hmmm... maybe not, but it sure pays the bills." She dumped the full wheelbarrow by the curb and rolled back to his next pile of straw. "What about the rest of your family?"
"Well, they don't have any problems meeting their bills."
"You have that look to you."
"That look?" He peered over his aviator glasses, liking the look of her so much it was tough to process her words.
"Prep school education. A far cry from my parents' garage jam-packed full of yard gear, greasy tools and workout weights."
Her implied censure gave him pause. He'd always known she had a crush on him. He knew he had his faults—big ass faults—but since she didn't know about his alcoholism, he'd never stopped to consider there might be other things she disapproved of about his way of life. That tweaked more than it should have. "I think you're insulting me."
"No. Only commenting on our obvious differences. Just because I feel you did a really scumbag thing a few months ago doesn't mean I believe you're an actual scumbag."
"Thanks." Sort of.
"But while we're on the subject of that really scumbag thing you did for which you have finally apologized but never explained..." She dumped another load of pine straw, her face averted a little too conveniently to be coincidence.
"Noticed that, did you?" He leaned on the rake, taking in the overstiff brace of her shoulders and wanting to kick his own ass.
"Tough not to notice." She slumped back against the tree, hands behind her. "So why did you walk out the door and never bother to call? Or better yet, why did you invite me through your door in the first place?"
And into his bed. That much, at least, he remembered along with the feel of her bare chest against his as they'd tumbled onto the mattress. He'd just lost most of the parts between bed and waking up. The good parts, stolen by a drunken blackout. Finding Nikki n**ed next to him in the morning and knowing he'd broken her trust, her father's trust and his own code of honor made him realize he'd bottomed out.
He'd rolled his sorry, hungover butt off the mattress and found an Alcoholics Anonymous chapter. A.A. meetings had saved his life. Slowly, he was regaining his self-respect.