Page 19 of New Year

Zack met Chase’s gaze and nodded slightly. Chase nodded back. If Chase and Nat hit it off, and if Chase decided he could trust Nat, then their problem of a home caregiver was solved. And so was the question of Nat finding a job that could pay him cash. Chase had only just been approved for disability assistance, and while he could also apply for home aide through the program, Chase already abhorred receiving assistance of any sort. He’d probably turn around and use the disability money to pay his home aide anyway.

“Well, Zack will tell that I am an incorrigible flirt with a very weak mouth censor,” Chase said, “so if you can forgive my unfiltered moments, then I think I can forgive yours. I accept your offer to be my assistant today. I’ll even pay you for your time.”

“No way, I said I’d help for your generosity in letting me spend the night.”

“I didn’t know you were spending the night until this morning, so if I want to pay you for your time today, that’s my prerogative.”

“Don’t argue with him,” Zack said to Nat. “Even if you turn him down, cash will find its way into your pocket by the end of the day.” When Nat’s eyes narrowed, he added, “For driving him around. Neither of us are judging you for how you’ve made money in the past, and we’re not going to hold it against you. And I understand you’re suspicious. We’ve known each other about twelve hours, and you only just met Chase.”

Nat chewed on the nail of his left thumb for a few seconds, and then he angled toward Chase. “We met once last fall.”

Chase startled. “We did? When?”

“At River Bistro I. I was there on a date, and you came by our table to ask how the lamb chops were.”

“Well, don’t keep me in suspense. How were the lamb chops that night?”

Nat chuckled. “It was good. I’d never had lamb before, or any kind of meat with a mint sauce. I was a waiter at the time, so my idea of a good meal was a burger and stale peanuts.”

“That still is a good meal. Don’t discount the healing powers of a big, greasy burger when you’re feeling down. Where did you wait tables?”

“Are you familiar with Tim’s?”

Zack’s hand jerked, and he sloshed hot coffee onto the counter. “The bar that blew up back in February? You worked there?”

“I was there when it happened.”

“You what?” Zack started to stand but stopped himself. What was he going to do? Launch himself across the counter to grab Nat and make sure he was okay? Nat was standing there, a red mark from last night’s scuffle darkening one cheek, but otherwise mobile and aware.

Nat picked at his fritter, shoulders stooped, gaze lowered. “I was scheduled to close that night with another employee. We had one customer left. I was gonna give him a ride home. Things went ka-blam. My left side took the brunt of it.”

“Jesus Christ.”

According to Chase, the entire city of Reynolds and its surrounding towns were aware of the February explosion that had destroyed a popular local bar named Tim’s. Investigators ruled it an accident with the boiler, rather than arson, but three people had been injured. The owners were in the process of rebuilding, and had even been thrown a community fundraiser the second Sunday in April. Zack had heard all about it from Chase. He’d driven by the storefront a few times, and had been happy to see an Opening Soon banner in the window.

“Well, you look damned good for getting blown up by a boiler,” Chase blurted out.

Nat smiled, but his lips were thin and it didn’t meet his eyes. “Broken bones and burns heal. But it’s been hard getting back on my feet.”

“I imagine so. Recovery isn’t easy, especially if you don’t have family around to help?”

“Right.” Nat was shutting down. Zack saw it in his ever-stooping shoulders and direct attention to his food. He’d done something similar last night at dinner when their conversation stalled out. Zack didn’t want to make Nat so uncomfortable that he bolted.

“Nat,” Zack said, “I imagine you’ll be wanting a few things from the drugstore. If you like, we can take a trip out this morning, before you have to drive Chase to his appointment, and before I have to go to work.”

“That would be great, thank you.” The relief in his eyes sent a wave of warmth through Zack’s chest. He’d guessed correctly. “I’d love a toothbrush.”

“Then finish your apple fritter and we’ll go. Chase? I’ll walk you across the porch.”

Chase was poised to argue he didn’t need an escort six feet across the stone stoop, but he caught the look Zack was shooting him. “The appointment is at one, so we’ll need to leave here around twelve-twenty to be on time,” Chase said.

“I’ll be ready,” Nat replied.

“Good enough.”

Zack followed Chase from his suite to Chase’s door, which opened into the laundry room. Right beside the door was a shoe rack and a sign above it that read:Laundry Room: Take Shoes & Pants Off Here. While the pants part was a joke, for their entire relationship Chase had been fussy about removing shoes by the door and not tracking the outdoors all over the indoors. It wasn’t as much a cleanliness thing, Chase always said, as respecting their indoor space. Zack had done his best, but it wasn’t a habit he cared much about when so many other things were going on. And he couldn’t exactly enforce that rule on sixty-odd people during his larger parties.

But now that putting on his shoes was sometimes a ten-minute task, Chase put them on in the morning and left them on until he was in for the evening. Or, like this morning, he wore his slippers until it was time for the greater world to see him. Chase shuffled straight through the kitchen and into the den to settle in his recliner.

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