Page 85 of Carter

I laugh nervously. “They expire?”

He huffs a sigh, then puts the extinguisher by the door. “I’m sure you won’t start a fire, but you will get a new extinguisher tomorrow.”

“Sure. Yeah. Definitely. Uh, how do I do that?”

“I’ll find the closest place,” he says as he goes over to sit on the couch.

I focus on dinner, making sure I get everything just right, and once it’s all cooked and time to layer, I’m feeling a little tired. Less stressed though. This is the easy part. I can breathe now.

When the lasagna is layered and put into the oven, I wipe my forehead and turn to find Nash comfortable on the couch. The TV is on, but his gaze is on me.

“All good?” he asks with a smirk.

“All good.” I wipe my forehead with the back of my hand. “But I think I need a shower.”

“I’ll be here.”

I jump in the shower quickly, changing into sweatpants and a t-shirt when I’m done. I don’t feel like I need to dress up around Nash. I’m fine being comfortable.

When I come out, he’s in the same spot, watching TV this time. I glance at the clock on the wall and realize he’s already been here over an hour.

“Shit. I’m sorry. I am usually much better at time management.” I sit on the couch beside him.

He gives me a soft smile. “It’s okay. I’m not on a time limit.”

Now I smile. “Good to know.”

I have the urge to lean in and kiss him, but I don’t know if we’re doing that again. Yes, last night happened. I know how I feel about him, but that doesn’t mean he’s feeling it too. Or that he wants more, or even just a repeat. He’s the detective working on my late-boyfriend’s murder case… I don’t think this is supposed to happen.

“Can I talk to you about something?” I ask carefully.

“Always.”

I ring my hands together as I stare at them, trying to find the right words to say what I want to say.

“I don’t know what’s going on with us, and we don’t have to put a label on anything, but I do need you to know that this is all very confusing for me.”

“Me too.”

“How so?” I ask.

“I don’t date.”

“Me either.”

“No, I mean, I’ve never dated anyone. Not once in my whole life.”

“Never?” I ask. “How… how is that possible?”

He shakes his head, taking a deep breath and finding my gaze. “I told you I dealt with trauma and that I’ve always looked out for my brothers.” I nod, and his face turns almost expressionless,which confuses me until he speaks again. “My father murdered my mother right in front of us—and then he killed himself.”

“Holy shit,” I mutter.

“I was sixteen. We all went to foster care for a while, but once I was eighteen, I took them in. Did my best. They grew up, went off on their own. Well, Jericho and I found each other a short time later when he separated from his husband, but that’s a whole other story. Basically, I’ve spent my life worrying about them and working.”

“Nash, I don’t even know what to say.”

I knew he had trauma. He said he lost someone but more than that, I’ve seen it in him. In the way he acts and especially the way he speaks. He says things that tell me he’s experienced grief.