Daisy sucked in a jagged breath as if she’d forgotten how to breathe on her own. A lump rose in her throat, and she swallowed it down. There was no mistaking those eyes—eyes she had looked into so many times, that were more familiar than the ground beneath her and once had the ability to turn her insides to mush.
Nick pushed off the truck and walked toward her, his hands shoved in the pockets of his navy blue peacoat. His coat was left open, revealing a blue and white plaid shirt tucked into khaki dress pants.
A complicated mess of knots twisted in her stomach the closer he got. The tall lanky guy she had known no longer existed, replaced with a man who had filled out in all the right places. He had a strong presence that was as intimidating as it was enticing.
She couldn’t think. Nick had always been handsome, but now he was downright sexy. Her mouth dried as she took in the dark stubble along his chiseled jawline. There was a time when he couldn’t grow a single hair on his face. It gave him a natural rugged yet sophisticated appearance guys in New York would kill for. Her lips parted at the combination of his facial hair and his clothes. She had to make a conscious effort to keep her mouth shut or she’d wind up drooling, creating a frozen path of evidence thanks to the frigid temperature.
Nick looked as if his good looks repelled the cold, and she found herself standing there staring at him as he continued toward her holding her gaze with intimidating intensity.
Her mind was blank as she struggled for air. Her knees wobbled and she had no idea how she was still standing as her past caught up and stood right in front of her.
“Nick.” There was an apology on the tip of her tongue but before she could speak, Nick beat her to it.
“Do they not have real men in New York?” he asked, a cocky grin settling on his chiseled face.
Her eyebrow arched in confusion. “What are you talking about?”
“Just the way you’re staring at me makes me think you forgot what a real man looks like.”
“You wish.” There was a hint of humor in her laugh, but when he reached for her suitcase, practically knocking her out of the way, any hope at a light-hearted reunion was gone.
She yanked her bag back unsure what his motive was. “I’m waiting for my brother.”
He laughed and dammit if it wasn’t the sexiest thing she’d heard in a long time. “You can wait all you want; he’s not coming.”
Her head snapped up. “What do you mean?”
“He’s busy. So lucky you, I offered to pick you up.”
She laughed. “Lucky? Is that what you call it?”
“You can call it whatever you want. I don’t care. Give me your bag.”
She understood Mason was busy, but he couldn’t have gotten anyone else? For crying out loud, she had five other siblings, all of which had a significant other. Heck, she would have been more inclined to get in a car with her eight-year-old nephew driving than have to be subjected to being confined in a truck with Nick for any length of time.
Mason had to have known how she’d spent the last six years avoiding this very moment. Why the hell would he throw her into the damn lion’s den without warning?
She stood in front of her luggage, debating on calling an Uber. Awkward silence spread between them as he stared at her, causing her to shift from one foot to the other.
“It’s obvious you’re not happy to see me. I’d wager to say you might actually hate me, so why offer to come get me?”
He shrugged, causing a tiny stab at her heart. A small part of her hoped he would deny it, tell her she was out of her mind and he could never hate her, but that shrug confirmed what she already knew. He probably wouldn’t care if she stumbled in front of a bus and turned into road kill.
It shouldn’t have been a surprise. Yet, his noncommittal shrug spoke volumes. The way he held himself, the way he spoke to her… that wasn’t the Nick she left behind. Once upon a time Nick was always her go-to person; now he was nothing more than a stranger.
“Mason’s done a lot for me,” he finally said. “He needed help. So don’t think it’s anything else because it’s not.”
“I didn’t.”
“Yeah, sure.” The disbelief in his tone sparked a fury inside of her. She was trying to be nice here. Trying to get through this with her dignity still intact but he was being a jerk.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I know you.”
“Correction… you knew me. You don’t know me anymore.”
He met her gaze with a mind-numbing glare that caused her knees to wobble. That gorgeous defined jawline with the sexy dark stubble ticked.
“And whose fault is that?”
“Do you want to do this right now? Here in the middle of a bus station parking lot? Fine, let’s do this. Go ahead. I’m sure you have six years of pent up rage you’re just dying to get out.”
His gaze swept across her, causing her to freeze in place. He stepped closer; a delicious masculine spicy aroma with citrus accents surrounded her. She could see the gold specks in his eyes as they narrowed in on her.
Her heart beat so hard and fast she wondered if he could hear it. He bent down, his lips inches from her ear. She could feel his warm breath against her skin, the heat radiating off his body. She swallowed and mentally reminded herself to breath.
“Sorry to disappoint you, but I let that shit go a long time ago.” He pulled back with a smug smirk on his face. “I can see you haven’t changed. You still think the world revolves around you. Well, it doesn’t. So no, I don’t have anything to say to you.”
He reached for her bag again, and she yanked it out of his grasp.
“I got it.” Six years ago, she would have gladly let him take her bags, but he was wrong. She wasn’t that girl anymore, and she would not let him—even for a second—make her think she was.
She hiked her duffel bag up on her shoulder and rolled the other two suitcases toward his truck, desperately trying not to appear like she was struggling.
“Unbelievable,” he mumbled behind her. She refused to look back. It was something she perfected a long time ago. There was no point looking behind when the future was in front.
She got to the truck and pushed the handle of her suitcase down. She bent at the knees and tried hoisting the luggage into the bed of the truck, but the truck was too high, and she was five inches too short.
Nick’s laughter registered in her ears as he grabbed the bag from her hands and tossed it into the bed like it weighed nothing.
“Look,” he said, leveling her with his gaze, “I get it. You’re an independent woman who lives in New York. Now that that’s cleared up, move out of the damn way.” He grabbed her other bag, and she stepped back as he tossed it in the bed with her other suitcase.
He tapped the gray metal of the pickup. “Since you’re a big city girl now used to yellow cabs and subway cars and may have forgotten… this big heap of metal is what we call a truck.”
She let out an annoyed breath. “More like a heap of shit.”
“It was my dad’s,” he growled, and guilt consumed her.
She knew it was his dad’s, the truck might’ve had more rust spots than it once did but it was unmistakable.
She’d heard from the Red Maple Falls rumor mill that still managed to reach her in New York that Mr. Davis’ cancer came back stronger and more aggressive than before. Within a year, he was gone. Not thinking she insulted something Nick clearly held dear and in doing so she hit an exposed nerve.
“Nick…” She reached out to him, her finger grazing his, sending an unexpected spark of awareness through her body. Instinctively her hand snapped back and her eyes went to his, confirming he’d felt it too, but just as quickly as the spark appeared, it diminished into complete darkness. The lines in his forehead returned, and his lip curled in what she could only assume was disgust.
She had so much to be sorry for, for not coming to the funeral, or sending a card, but she couldn’t manage to spit the words out.
“The truck has sentimental value, but I wouldn’t expect you to understand something like that.” He stared at her for a long, heated minute. She wanted the ground to open up and swallow her whole.
She needed to say something. Anything.
“We should go,” he said and stormed around the truck to the driver’s side, leaving her feeling like a grade A asshole.