Page 66 of Carter

“If you insist.” I sway my arm out, gesturing for him to lead the way.

Nash plays with the door handle on the front door of the building when he notices it doesn’t turn—meaning it doesn’t lock.

“This isn’t safe.”

“Thanks for the reminder,” I say as I move for the stairs. He hurries after me.

“We aren’t taking the elevator?”

“Hell no.” I push open the door for the stairs, the door that also doesn’t lock. “Got stuck in that thing the first month I moved in. I’ll never step foot in it again.”

Nash chuckles as he follows behind me, quickly coming up in step beside me.

We get to my apartment and I fumble with my keys, but eventually get the door unlocked and open. I don’t step inside. I turn back to Nash and lean against the doorway, looking up at him. This feels… a lot like the ending to a date, even if the dinner itself didn’t feel like a date. It was comfortable.

Looking up at Nash, I can’t help but feel… something. I always had a thing for tall guys with a bigger build. It makes me feel small, which in turn makes me feel protected. That’s important to me. Always has been, even before I met Ryan, but especially after. It’s probably something that goes all the way back to my parents, but I have enough trauma to work through, I don’t need to add that to my list.

“Thank you for dinner,” I say.

“Thank you for coming with me. I… needed this today.”

I bite my bottom lip and smile up at him. “Yeah, I could tell. Glad I could help.”

“You did,” he says, and I swear he just took a step closer to me. He did, right? Yeah, he definitely did. Because he’s so close I can smellhim. This spicy, musky scent. “Thank you.” His voice is lower, quiet. Soft. Gentle. All the right things.

“You said that,” I respond.

“Did I?”

“Yes,” I breathe out.

Nash leans in a little closer, and his hand comes up toward my face, the backs of his fingers brushing along my cheek. My eyes fall closed as the heat of his skin burns mine, and I lean into the touch. It’s been so long since I’ve felt something like that, but it’s gone as soon as it’s there. My eyes pop open. Realization hits us both at the same time. Nash steps back. So do I.

“I’ll… see you,” he says quickly.

All I can do is stand there and watch him walk down the hallway. I should go inside, break whatever spell this is, but my eyes are glued to him until he disappears behind the elevator doors. Brave bastard.

I step into my apartment, close and lock the door.

I like this version of Nash. The version I get. The one other people wouldn’t believe exists. There’s something special knowing that I get something the rest of the world doesn’t.

That’s not what has my head spinning, though, I realize.

No, what has my head all extra fuzzy and slightly dizzy is that I really wish he hadn’t stopped just now.

Chapter twenty-three

Nash

I make my way downtown, parking my truck in the first open spot I see. I shouldn’t bother taking it because parking is a bitch, but I like the freedom of having it when I need it. I get a spot two blocks away and walk over to the Quick & Dry, moving quickly because it’s fucking cold. This is the laundromat that Lilianna Travers said she worked at. Hopefully she’s on shift today, because I know there is more to this story. And if there isn’t, if I’m barking up the wrong tree, the least I can do is offer support when it comes to her husband because the guy seems like a controlling piece of shit.

It’s not my job to get involved in people’s relationships, but I don’t like the thought of a man being abusive toward a woman—toward anyone. It hits me harder than most things do, and it’swhy I always struggled with domestic calls back in Chicago. It’s difficult for me to control my anger in those times and I know my limits. As I’ve gotten older, my patience has dwindled. Doing those sorts of calls wasn’t something I could handle anymore.

This woman is dredging up all kinds of bad memories for me, but I’m going to keep my cool and turn this into something good. Preferably solving this case and making sure she’s safe—and that Ryan and Carter have closure.

Heat and the smell of laundry detergent and dryer sheets hits me the moment I pull open the heavy door. The whir of dryers is heard behind the voices on the TV and the customers chatting. It’s a busy place, with most of the machines being used and almost all of the chairs taken up. A few kids sit at a colorful table in the back corner coloring on papers with broken crayons. It’s not a huge place, but it’s big enough, and clearly stays busy. I get looks as I walk in, which happens most places I go. I say it’s my size, but it’s probably something else.

I make my way to the counter where there is a small computer screen and a POS machine. On the back wall is shelving stocked with individual laundry soap boxes and dryer sheets. To the right is a hallway, and from here I can see it opens to a back room. I lean forward, hoping to see if someone is working, but I don’t see anyone back there, so I turn and look around. There’s a woman at the dryers in a dark green t-shirt with the Quick & Dry logo on the back, covering most of it. By the blond hair, I can tell it isn’t Lilianna but it was a shot in the dark that she’d be here.