Page 35 of Nash

Our routine is that Nash leaves first. He uses Delta’s back exit and waits for me in the shadows of the blooming courtyard behind the house. A few minutes later, I leave, and he follows me home using the narrow, cobblestone alleys that snake behind the homes in Charleston’s historic district.

But this evening, when I leave, Nash leads me to a black RAM pickup truck, pulling up to the curb. When he opens the passenger door for me, I’m not surprised to see who’s driving.

“I knew it!” I exclaim.

“Just get in.” Jace sounds serious while Nash slides into the back seat of his double cab. I fasten my seatbelt, but my mouth is unrestrained.

“I knew it. You two and that Cummings guy work together. Like three peas in a mafia Avengers pod. Wait.” I turn to Jace. “Does this mean Grant is, too?”

Grant is Jace’s older brother and Delta’s nighttime bouncer, and I swear they might as well be twins. They look and act alike, like big, beefy bouncers in Armani suits, so if one is mafia, both are.

“Listen, Nancy Drew,” Jace warns, “we’re not mafia, not like you think. But you’re too smart and ask too many damn questions and see too much stuff for us not to tell you a few things because honestly, shitwillgo sideways soon, and you have to know who you can trust, and we’ll have to protect you.”

“Andyouneed to protectusfrom your mouth,” Nash adds from the backseat. “We’re serious, Vale. No one can know. Not your sister. Not my daughter. Not your boss. No?—”

“But,” I ask, “isn’t your Cummings guy renting the room on the third floor of Delta’s now? How can Staceynotknow who he is and who you are?”

“He’s given Stacey a reason to trust him,” Nash answers, “so she gives him a place for his meetings. Our meetings. No questions asked.”

“Meetings?” I have no idea where we’re going, but who cares? This makes no sense. “Who has meetings in an adult store?”

“Adults,” Jace quips.

“Okay, smartass.”

“Pot,” Jace makes a fast left turn, “meet Kettle.”

“So, do I go to your meetings now?” I’m excited. “Is there like a secret knock and a code word to get in? Am I in the not-mafia-mafia club, too?”

“Over dead bodies,” Nash answers with so much ice in his voice, I shiver.

But I don’t have a chance to ask more questions because Jace pulls into The Mercier Hotel’s parking garage. Immediately, I figure it out—Nash got us a suite here so he could protect me while I can have some privacy.

It’s so damn sweet; I can’t speak as Nash grabs three duffels from Jace’s cab before Jace drives away.

The elevator takes us from the garage to the grand lobby. We step out to find a crowd gathered by the hotel’s front glass doors, and I see why.

Redix Dean and Daniel Pierce are here. They’re not only Hollywood hotties but also in the most famous polycule in the world, and the paparazzi won’t leave them alone. They stand with their wives, chatting with Luca Mercier, the hotel’s owner, and his wife, Scarlett, as camera flashes pop outside.

I know them. They’re friends with Stacey and loyal Delta’s customers but I’d never divulge their proclivities.

I guess that’s the discretion Nash says I require now, as he gently tugs my arm, not wanting us to be spotted.

Once we’re on the gold elevator to our room, he reveals, “I went online today and read how hot baths can help with your symptoms. You don’t have a tub at your place, so I?—”

So, you’re really melting my heart.I’m speechless, stunned, and staring up at him in awe.

“Look who’s being the asshole now,” he mutters, leaning over to kiss my strands. “And for the record, I think Exxon is doing a beautiful job with your hair, and it’s cute when you dress like a tampon, and thereisa man who cares way too much for you, and he’snotyour father.”

I rest my head on his arm. “And he’snotin the mafia, either.”

“Vale,” he warns.

“Okay, okay.” I loop my arm over his. “Take me to a tub, please.”

Blair said no man has ever loved me, and maybe that’s true, even of our father.

But no man has ever swept me off my feet, literally, like Nash Allen does. Once the suite door locks behind us, he drops our bags and, in one deft move, carries me to a king-sized bed.

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