resistance from them.
When they walked into the adjoining living room without argument, Nancy patted Trisha’s hair and let her tears fall. “I’ll make some tea. You talk with Nick and I’ll bring it up to you.”
She hadn’t uttered a word since Brad found her lying on the floor unconscious. Worried she might be in shock, he wrapped an arm around her waist and climbed the staircase, assisting her with each step. She didn’t put up a fight, but simply laid her head on his shoulder, walking blindly. Looking down his nose he found her long lashes closed and he shook his head. Having her there against him felt too damn right. He wasn’t the comforting type. Hell, he wasn’t even the knight in shining armor type. But with Trisha, seeing her like that, made him want to be a hero.
She pointed out which room was hers. When she settled on the bed, she leaned against the headboard, pulling out the ponytail at the back of her head. She winced at the pain from her bump after hitting the floor. He instinctively reached for her.
Putting up a hand to stop him, she muttered, “I’m fine. It just hurts like hell.”
Annoyed with himself and the situation she put herself in, he paced around her bedroom. He’d dealt with domestic disturbances, with children, and occasionally with murder, but he never had to deal with Trisha before.
She brought out emotions he couldn’t professionally put aside. He didn’t like it. He didn’t like the sight of her pale, limp body lying there on the floor or the swift need to hold her close. It grated his nerves watching all those hands on her when he wanted them to be his. He wanted to sooth her.
He swallowed and glanced around. The bedroom set was mahogany and crafted in clean straight lines. There were no embellishments or frills, just a few pictures on the yellow walls. The comforter on the bed was a deep, rich gold and matched the drapes hanging on her open window. He thought about how closely their tastes matched and how well-suited they were to each other before quashing the thought away.
“Sit down, Nick,” she murmured, drawing him back to her.
He obliged, sitting next to her on the edge of the queen-sized bed.
“So serious,” she said and pouted her lips mockingly.
Pleased to hear the sarcasm return, he slanted a gaze at her. “He could’ve really hurt you. Why didn’t you have someone with you when you fired him?”
The question was professional and curt, but she must have seen his underlying fear and relied on her backbone to defend against him. “I can handle my spread and staff on my own.”
Defensive as she, he straightened. “I can see that by the bruise on your cheek and the egg on your head.”
Thoroughly insulted, she ground her teeth and clenched. “Who the hell are you to come in here and—”
“You scared me,” he muttered, searching her face, forcing his features to remain unreadable.
“I didn’t mean to.” She looked away, a blush rising up her neck and spreading to her cheeks. Rolling those hazel eyes, she looked back at him. “He caught me off guard and in a moment of weakness. It won’t happen again.” She played with the hairband in her lap. “Is Brad okay? Did he freak out?”
He banked down the irritation that she asked about another man when he was sitting right here in front of her. “He’s fine. You gave us all a good scare. Your parents are downstairs. I’ll send them up when we’re through.”
She nodded, causing her hair to fall over her face. Giving into the urge, he tucked it behind her ears and left his hands to linger at the side of her face before dropping them back to his lap. “Do you want to press charges?”
Lazily, she blinked. “I don’t think so. Should I?”
He shrugged as if he didn’t care. “It’s up to you. If he hit you, he’s probably done it before. It could prevent any more occurrences. I don’t think he’ll be any more trouble to you, but one of us will drive by every couple hours tonight
When they walked into the adjoining living room without argument, Nancy patted Trisha’s hair and let her tears fall. “I’ll make some tea. You talk with Nick and I’ll bring it up to you.”
She hadn’t uttered a word since Brad found her lying on the floor unconscious. Worried she might be in shock, he wrapped an arm around her waist and climbed the staircase, assisting her with each step. She didn’t put up a fight, but simply laid her head on his shoulder, walking blindly. Looking down his nose he found her long lashes closed and he shook his head. Having her there against him felt too damn right. He wasn’t the comforting type. Hell, he wasn’t even the knight in shining armor type. But with Trisha, seeing her like that, made him want to be a hero.
She pointed out which room was hers. When she settled on the bed, she leaned against the headboard, pulling out the ponytail at the back of her head. She winced at the pain from her bump after hitting the floor. He instinctively reached for her.
Putting up a hand to stop him, she muttered, “I’m fine. It just hurts like hell.”
Annoyed with himself and the situation she put herself in, he paced around her bedroom. He’d dealt with domestic disturbances, with children, and occasionally with murder, but he never had to deal with Trisha before.
She brought out emotions he couldn’t professionally put aside. He didn’t like it. He didn’t like the sight of her pale, limp body lying there on the floor or the swift need to hold her close. It grated his nerves watching all those hands on her when he wanted them to be his. He wanted to sooth her.
He swallowed and glanced around. The bedroom set was mahogany and crafted in clean straight lines. There were no embellishments or frills, just a few pictures on the yellow walls. The comforter on the bed was a deep, rich gold and matched the drapes hanging on her open window. He thought about how closely their tastes matched and how well-suited they were to each other before quashing the thought away.
“Sit down, Nick,” she murmured, drawing him back to her.
He obliged, sitting next to her on the edge of the queen-sized bed.
“So serious,” she said and pouted her lips mockingly.
Pleased to hear the sarcasm return, he slanted a gaze at her. “He could’ve really hurt you. Why didn’t you have someone with you when you fired him?”
The question was professional and curt, but she must have seen his underlying fear and relied on her backbone to defend against him. “I can handle my spread and staff on my own.”
Defensive as she, he straightened. “I can see that by the bruise on your cheek and the egg on your head.”
Thoroughly insulted, she ground her teeth and clenched. “Who the hell are you to come in here and—”
“You scared me,” he muttered, searching her face, forcing his features to remain unreadable.
“I didn’t mean to.” She looked away, a blush rising up her neck and spreading to her cheeks. Rolling those hazel eyes, she looked back at him. “He caught me off guard and in a moment of weakness. It won’t happen again.” She played with the hairband in her lap. “Is Brad okay? Did he freak out?”
He banked down the irritation that she asked about another man when he was sitting right here in front of her. “He’s fine. You gave us all a good scare. Your parents are downstairs. I’ll send them up when we’re through.”
She nodded, causing her hair to fall over her face. Giving into the urge, he tucked it behind her ears and left his hands to linger at the side of her face before dropping them back to his lap. “Do you want to press charges?”
Lazily, she blinked. “I don’t think so. Should I?”
He shrugged as if he didn’t care. “It’s up to you. If he hit you, he’s probably done it before. It could prevent any more occurrences. I don’t think he’ll be any more trouble to you, but one of us will drive by every couple hours tonight
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