“Getting antsy already?”
“Definitely. What am I supposed to do with myself all day for the rest of the week? I hate daytime TV.”
“Don’t you have any hobbies you’ve been neglecting for lack of time?”
She wrinkled her nose. “Work is my hobby. Same as you.”
She had him there, he had to acknowledge as they sat side by side on the couch. “I guess we need to talk about what happened earlier.”
Her bandaged chin thrust forward in challenge as she tilted her head. “That depends. Are you going to tell me you’re sorry you took off the way you did or that we made a huge mistake?”
He sensed that she was hiding any vulnerability behind this air of bravado. Just as she wouldn’t let him know about any pain she might be feeling from her injuries, she would deliberately hide any fear or insecurity about their relationship.
If he was going to be involved with Nic, he’d have to learn to read the emotions she was reluctant to show him. And that was something else that would be different from what he’d had with Heather, who had fervently believed in sharing all their feelings about everything.
But this wasn’t the time to think about Heather.
“I don’t think we made a mistake,” he said firmly. “I still think it’s been building between us for a long time. I do think I handled it badly. I got rattled. A little overwhelmed, I think. I needed a little time to process it all, so I took off. I’m sorry.”
She studied his face for a moment and then smiled. “Apology accepted.”
That was it? She didn’t want explanations of why he’d felt overwhelmed? Of any conclusions he had reached since he’d left? She didn’t want any promises that he wouldn’t run out on her like that again?
She opened the box of treats he’d brought her. “Would you like one? The chocolate-dipped apricots are my favorite.”
Still looking at her face, he accepted an apricot, which he ate in two bites. “You’re right. That is good.”
Nic set the box aside. “You’ve got a little chocolate on your mouth. Let me help you with it.”
She leaned forward and covered his mouth with her own.
There were times when action was infinitely better than talking, he decided immediately, gathering her closer.
Chapter Thirteen
They never did get around to talking about why he’d panicked earlier. Joel didn’t really want to talk about it yet, and Nic didn’t seem to be any more eager to get into an in-depth examination of their feelings. It seemed easier all around to spend the remainder of the evening talking about inconsequential things, laughing, getting to know each other all over again as lovers rather than platonic friends.
He didn’t spend the night. Neither of them was ready for that step. But it was quite late by the time he finally tore himself away from her, making her promise to call him if she needed anything at all.
He was back at her place the next evening after work, bringing take-out food with him. He wasn’t sure if her radiant smile when she opened the door had more to do with her pleasure at seeing him or her relief at having someone to talk to.
She wasn’t dealing with her enforced vacation well; she wanted to be back at work. Apparently she had spent much of the day on the phone with friends and coworkers, but that wasn’t the same, she complained, as being out among them. By the time they’d finished dinner and dessert and had watched a couple of programs on TV, she was in better spirits, convinced that she should be able to return to work the next day.
“I don’t think so,” he said with a shake of his head. “You agreed to take the rest of the week to recover from that concussion. Your boss said he didn’t want you back until you’ve been released by your doctor. You won’t even get those stitches out for another few days. Why don’t you just try to enjoy your time off and let yourself heal completely before you go back to work?”
She groaned and let her head fall back on the couch. “I’m so bored.”
Smiling, he reached out t
o smooth the ragged edges of the tape that held her bandage on her chin. She’d been picking at it again, impatient with the feel of it against her skin. “You’ll survive. You might even enjoy it if you gave yourself a chance.”
“Right,” she said, giving him an openly skeptical look. “Like you wouldn’t be itching to get back to work by now.”
She had him there. He’d be going crazy by now. But that didn’t mean he was going to encourage her to go back to work sooner than she should. He had to admit that he was in no hurry to see her strap on her weapon again.
Again he stayed late, then made himself leave. Wearing a fuzzy robe and a sleepy smile, she saw him to the door without asking him to stay.
When his telephone rang early the next morning as he was getting ready to go to work, his first thought was that it was Nic. He was surprised when he heard his mother’s voice on the other end of the line. “Mom? Is everything okay?”