I bit my bottom lip. It was tangy from lime and booze. A tight breath shuddered out of my lungs and I let my gaze dance from one of them to the other. They were lovely young women. Strong enough to deal with the attention their men garnered, kind enough to welcome me into the fold with no judgment because they wanted Nash to be happy. I just didn't know that I could ever be as clear on the past versus the present as they seemed to be.

I propped my elbow on the table and put my chin on my hand.

"I was fat."

They both blinked at me and then shared a look. Ayden's light tw.a.n.g asked, "So?"

"It made me shy and awkward, something I never outgrew. I got picked on a lot in school. People were mean, it hurt, and now even though I'm not that girl on the outside, I am still totally her on the inside, and it makes me act like a weirdo."

Shaw pushed her long hair back over her shoulder and looked at me questioningly. "What does that have to do with Nash?"

I waved a hand sloppily in the air in front of me. "You trust Rule, Ayden trusts Jet ... but to me, why should I trust anyone when there are girls like that throwing themselves at him? Boys like pretty girls that are no work." I said it like I was an authority on the matter.

They shared another look and Shaw told me point-blank, "Nash isn't like that. First of all he is the least judgmental guy in the world, and second he has never, and I mean never, spent as much time with any single girl as he has with you."

Ayden made a noise and patted me on the knee. "I hate to tell you this, honey, but those boys have the pick of the ladies they want to spend time with: skinny, chubby, blond, brunette ... you name it and they can have it. The point I think you might be missing is that clearly our boy has picked you to spend time with and he has made that choice over and over again." She pushed some of her dark hair out of her face and lifted a dark eyebrow at me. "And believe me, none of them are scared of doing a little work."

I was listening to their words, but at the same time one of the college girls broke from the pack and waltzed up to the table. Nash was leaning on the pool cue, and even though she was clearly headed in his direction, his gaze was locked directly on me. He was watching me closely and all I could do was stare back. I couldn't ever imagine trusting someone, loving someone so unquestioningly that you just knew that you were the only person they were thinking about, the only person they wanted. That seemed like a fantasy to me. That couldn't exist in real life ... could it?

"I don't know if that makes me feel better or worse."

They both started to talk at the same time, trying to rea.s.sure me that Nash was loyal, that he was a great guy, that he was the nice one in the group, that he was typically the voice of reason because Rule was such a hothead and Jet tended to be moody and emotional. I listened to it all with half an ear while I watched the coed put her hand on Nash's chest and smile coyly up at him. I don't know what bothered me more, that she was openly flirting with him, or that it bothered me so much. It made me very uneasy to watch it happen.

Nash shook his tattooed head, took a step back, and handed his pool cue to Rowdy so he could wind his way through the throng of ladies. His eyes stayed locked on mine. I think he could tell I was upset, and not by anything the girls said, but by the overt attention he was drawing. He wasn't mine, at least not in any kind of spoken, official capacity, so it shouldn't matter, but it did.

He dropped his hands on my shoulders and I felt him drop a light kiss on the crown of my head. It was that, those simple little gestures that tried to untie all the things I thought I had knots tied securely around.

"Everything okay?"

Shaw and Ayden nodded and I gasped as he turned my chair around so that I was facing him. He put a hand on either side of the chair so I was caged in and forced to look up at him.

"Seriously, are you all right? We can go if you need to."

I felt like I couldn't breathe. It would be the second time he had left his friends early because of me, because I just couldn't get my head together. I opened my mouth to respond, to tell him it was fine. His friends were actually really nice. I had a nice enough buzz going that I could fake my way through another hour or so, but I didn't get the chance to speak because Rule suddenly appeared at the table, his light-colored eyes wide in his handsome face.

"Rome just called me. Cora's in labor."

Everyone was suddenly in a flurry of activity. Jet and Ayden, Rule and Shaw, all flew out of the bar without bothering to pay the bill. I looked at Nash in surprise as he waved the outrageously good-looking bartender over with a flick of his fingers.

"Why is everyone freaking out?" I didn't understand the sudden rush and hasty departures.

Rowdy materialized and pulled a bunch of bills out of his wallet that was attached to his pocket with a chain and handed it to the bartender.

Nash put a hand on my wrist and helped me to my feet. I was a little bit wobbly, so I put an arm around his waist.

"She's early, the baby. Cora wasn't supposed to be due until closer to the end of the month. Man, she's gonna be b.u.mmed out her dad isn't here."

He pulled out his phone and started firing off text messages.

"How many weeks is she?" I slipped easily into a role that I was comfortable with. Jealous, slightly drunk, not-quite girlfriend made my skin hurt.

He looked at me like I was speaking another language.

"She's probably fine. She's just pet.i.te and the baby is probably pretty big considering the size of the dad. If your friend is at least thirty-seven weeks, that's considered full term, and she and the baby will be fine."

He hustled me out of the bar and I balked when he stopped by the Charger and not the Jetta.

"You were doing shots with Ayden, so I know you had to be drinking more than you're used to. I don't want you driving, so I'll take you home and we can get your car tomorrow."

He put the key in the door and I looked up at him in a mixture of appreciation and fear. I really wished he didn't make it so easy to like him ... more than like him, really.

"I know you're worried about your friends. I can call a cab." His eyes got dark like they did when he was feeling something strongly.

"Saint ..." His voice was scratchy and gruff. He ran his thumb over the curve of his chin, which made me quake. "I worry about you just as much. I'm not sure when that happened, but it did. I'll get you home and then go to the hospital."

I gulped and silently nodded. He helped me into the car and we took off into the night. He was tense; I could feel it, and while I could rattle off a million and one medical reasons that things would probably be just fine, I knew that wasn't what would make him feel better. He already had one person he loved slipping away from him; the thought of losing another was probably torture. I reached out a shaky hand and put it on his arm where it was resting on the stick shift. The muscles were rock-hard and had a fine tremor in them.

"Nash." He looked over at me and I could see the fine lines of worry bracketing his mouth. "Do you, uh, want me to go to the hospital with you?"

They were all a family, all loved each other, leaned on one another. I was an outsider. True, the hospital was my home away from home, I was way more in my element there than I was in this car trying to offer this brooding man comfort. But it was the right thing for me to do. I could see it when his eyes shifted back to periwinkle, and his arm where I was touching him softened a fraction.

"Yeah. I really do."

"All right. Let's go, then."

The wheels under the powerful car squealed, and I got tossed to the side as he wheeled it around in the middle of the street and headed across town toward the hospital. This was a surefire way to have me sobering up way more quickly than I would have if I just went home to sleep it off.

He parked and I had to practically run to keep up with him as he headed for the front doors. It was a good thing I was tall or else I got the feeling he would have just dragged me along behind him. His hand was hard on mine and I could feel nervous moisture coating his palm. He was headed for emergency, so I had to dig my heels in and yank him to a grinding halt.

"Labor and delivery is this way. They probably moved her over there already."

He grunted and begrudgingly let me take the lead. I didn't miss the questioning looks I got from the night staff as I skated by holding his hand. He was the kind of guy that attracted attention anyway, and given the fact they were still all gossiping about my disastrous date with Dr. Bennet, this didn't bode well for me not being the topic of conversation anymore.

The crew was all gathered in the waiting room, minus Rule. Nash nodded at the guys, who were pacing back and forth, but went to the girls for the info.

"What's happening?"

Shaw was twisting her hair around her finger and her green eyes were huge in her face.

"She's early, but not too bad. Thirty-six weeks. Rome was freaking everyone out. I think he's having a little episode, so his mom came and got Rule to keep him in line. The doctor was scared of him."

Nash snorted and I had no problem imagining the scene between Rome and the doctor, considering I knew exactly how intimidating the big ex-soldier could be.

"Anyone call Joe?" He looked at me and clarified: "Cora's dad."

Shaw nodded. "Rome did on the way in. You might want to call Phil."

Nash went tense next to me and his eyes went back to dark. I knew his dad was like a fill-in parent to all these guys. The tattoo shop he had created had become their home. The idea of a new life coming into the world while he was on his way out had to gall and burn. I squeezed Nash's hand and he looked down at me.

"I'm gonna go talk to the staff and see if I can get any insider info. Okay?"

He gulped a little and his mouth turned down.

"I'm gonna make a call."

He looked so sad, so torn, it pulled at my heart way harder than watching some girl throw herself at him had. I reached up a hand and put it on his cheek. There was a tic there that had more than my nurse's instincts firing up, wanting to take care of him. That wasn't good. I wanted to be insulated, wanted to have enough s.p.a.ce that there was no chance that this man could hurt me again, and I felt that safeguard slipping further and further away.

I went and inquired about the patient and the baby. I used my employee status to get more info than they would give the motley crew gathered in the waiting room. By the time I met back up with Nash, everyone looked solemn and stressed out. Babies took a long time to come into the world and it was going to be a long night for all of them.

"She's doing great. She still has a ways to go before she is really in the thick of labor. The baby's vitals are strong, so I think everything is going to be just fine. I would say just settle in and wait. The baby clearly has her own agenda and doesn't know there are rules she should be following."

"Sounds like her uncle; she's already showing her Archer roots."

Shaw's dry comment broke the rest of the tension, and grateful eyes as well as relieved smiles met my little debriefing. I gasped a little when Nash wrapped me up in his arms and pulled me against his chest so that he could hold me while he propped himself up against the wall.

He put his lips to my temple, and I felt his chest expand and retract. "I'm so glad you're here. I'm so over being at the hospital, but at least you make it bearable."

I didn't know what to say to that, so I just wrapped my arms around his lean waist and let him hold on to me. I needed to figure out fast how deep in I was willing to go with him. The reality that he wanted me here, not because I knew how to navigate the ins and outs of the hospital, but because he wanted me, was something I felt I needed to really get my head around.

I didn't want to get hurt, but I had never considered that by handling this wrong, I could very well end up hurting him. I didn't like that idea at all.

CHAPTER 13.

Nash

"Cora brought the baby by. I can't believe how tiny she is."

I nodded and handed Phil a gla.s.s of water. He looked awful. It pained me to see him like this, wasting away, the bedroom in his condo was basically converted into a hospital room. The more time went on, the skinnier he got, the worse his pallor looked, and I could hear how gasping and sucking each breath he took in and out sounded. I bent my head down and stared at the carpet between the toes of my Vans. I didn't want him to see how hard these visits were getting for me.

"She looks like a little doll when Rome holds her. She almost fits in the palm of one of his big bear paws. She's too tiny to know it yet but she has all the men in her life wrapped around her finger." I joked about it but it was true.

Remy Josephine Archer was a fuzzy, blond-haired, perfect miniature replica of her mom. Her eyes were still infant dark, but at the center there was no mistaking the crisp, clear Archer blue. She was going to have Rule's eyes, Remy's eyes. She was going to do her namesake proud, and Cora's dad was already so in love with his granddaughter, he was talking about moving from Brooklyn to Denver. Little R.J. was the first baby for any of our patchworked family and there was no doubt she was going to be horrendously overprotected and ridiculously loved. She deserved nothing less.

"How are you guys doing at the shop without Cora?"

Phil started coughing, and I looked up at him under my brows. He sounded so awful, it made my heart squeeze so hard it stalled for a beat.

"It could be better. I can't take as many clients, there was so much she handled. The first half of my day is messing with new clients, doing s.h.i.t on the Internet, and paying bills. It sucks. The construction at the new shop started, so when I'm not trying to handle business at the Marked, I'm down there. Rule and Rowdy found a couple good artists we're going to bring in to pick up the slack and see if they'll work out at the new place, but for someone to run the desk and sit up front." I just shook my head.

He coughed again and it made his entire thin frame shake and quake. "You aren't going to find another Cora. She's one of a kind, and once she's ready, she'll be back. I want you to call this girl I met the last time I was in Vegas. I was doing a convention there and she was one of the pinup models there for the guys to take pictures with."

I snorted out a laugh. "I need a business major not a model."

"You need someone who can handle all the bad att.i.tude you guys throw around and that fits in with the rest of the shop. Someone with heart and a certain bada.s.sness. She was smart, she was beautiful. I took her info for a reason. Call her and see if she would be interested in coming out for an interview."

I just wanted to make him happy, so I agreed. "If you say so."

"I do. I might be sick, but I still know what makes that shop run. Plus I think she might be more inclined to come help you guys out and make the shop a success than anyone else you're going to just happen upon."

"Why do you think that?"

"Because the past ties us all together, Nash. None of us would be where we are now without the things that happened to us back then. Her name is Salem Cruz. Tell her I gave you her info and maybe mention she should look up the shop's website so she can check out the artists' page."

He was being cryptic and evasive, but that was pretty typical Phil-speak, so I didn't question it. Besides, he changed the subject.

"How's your pretty nurse?"

That was a good question. I didn't have the first clue how she was. Ever since she spent the night at the hospital with me while we all waited on Cora and the baby, she had been slightly evasive. We were still spending time together, still spent the night together as often as either of us could swing it with our busy schedules, but there was something there now, some kind of distance, some kind of shield she had up, and even though I didn't want to admit it to myself because I was in deep now, it felt like she was drifting away from me.

I wanted to ask her, wanted to make her admit we were into each other, that this thing between us was serious, and after almost three months she had to see that I was committed to being with her and no one else. But instead of being closer, she seemed to want more s.p.a.ce between us. She hadn't even let me do anything for her on Valentine's Day. It was a difficult situation, and while I had no problem pushing her into bed, making her see and feel how perfect I thought she was, out of bed I was seriously worried that if I tried to make her put a label on, tried to force her to admit she cared about me beyond what I could make her feel in the dark, she would leave.

I got that she wanted to be careful, that she wasn't fully convinced she could trust me ... trust any guy, really. I couldn't blame her. She had told me about her dad and his girlfriend and about some guy she had been involved with while she was in college, and how both cases of infidelity had left lasting marks on her already distrustful soul. I wanted to shake some sense into her. I had worked so hard to get close to her, there was no way I was going to screw it up by sticking my d.i.c.k in the first willing female that came along, but I just couldn't seem to get her to believe that.

She sort of glossed over the situation with the guy in college, but when she talked about her father, about the way her family had been so close, about the way her mom had gone off the deep end in the wake of his betrayal, I could hear in her voice how hard that had been for her. His unfaithfulness had cut not just her mother but all of the women in the Ford household deeply enough to leave lasting scars. She talked a good game about tolerating him and the choices he made, about turning the other cheek to keep the peace and to keep him in her life, but the resentment was there underneath every word she spoke. I couldn't say that I faulted her for that, because even from the outside looking in, I could see her dad had done a s.h.i.tty thing and left the family in the lurch. I just didn't know how Saint was ever going to get to a place where she could let it all go, put her faith in the fact that I wasn't like that ... if she didn't come to terms with the fact that people could be fallible, even people we had looked up to for our entire lives. The resentment she held on to was justified, but if she couldn't figure out what to do with it, I didn't know what that meant for us going forward.

Her father had disappointed her, solidified that foundation of mistrust I had broken ground on years ago, and I wasn't sure how to make her see that I would do anything within my power to keep from letting her down like that again. I was not her dad, nor would I ever want to be the kind of man that threw his loving family over for a quick piece.

"She's difficult."

He laughed, an actual laugh, and it made me smile down at the floor. I felt him reach out and he put one of his thin hands on the crown of my bent head. I closed my eyes and felt my breath shudder in my chest.

"That's the catchphrase of your life at the moment, Nash. 'Difficult.' You are a strong man, a good man, and you can handle anything life throws at you, no matter how difficult it may be. I want you to know, this man-the man you are now-he is a man you can be proud of. You are the greatest thing I ever created. Don't doubt it."

Well, s.h.i.t, if that didn't just make me want to bawl all over the place. I had to clench my hands hard into fists to keep all the emotion down.

"All I ever wanted was for my mom to tell me that. Now I know hearing it from you-the person that got me here-is a million times more valuable. Thanks, Phil."

I was still having some difficulty thinking of him as my "dad." His fingers patted my shaved head.

"I should have been braver. Shouldn't have been so concerned that you would hate me for not telling you. I wanted your mother to be accountable, but once you came to stay with me permanently ... I should have told you the truth."

"Well, I wish I had known sooner, wish I could have time to appreciate one parent being proud of me. The choices she made make it really easy for me to come to terms with the fact she might have given birth to me, but she was never really my mother."

"I was proud of you long before you had any idea you were my son, Nash. Your mom is a complicated woman, she always had a pretty clear-cut idea of the way her life should look. Neither you nor I fit in that vision."

He moved his hand and I finally looked up at him. If I was swallowing it all down-the feelings, the time lost-the history was gla.s.sy and bright in his eyes.