Page 9 of Mine This Time
Nash’s eyes held mine, and I silently sighed. “Clearly, I wasn’t aware of just what an ass he was. To give me a little credit, we haven’t had sex in three months.”
The moment that detail slipped out, I wanted to stuff the words back in my mouth. I had the worst habit of blurting things out when I was flustered.
Nash arched a brow. “Well, thank you for the information.”
I laughed bitterly. “You’re most welcome.”
“How can I help?” he asked, his tone solemn.
Chapter Five
Nash
Mari looked tired, a sense of unease and weariness clinging to her. I found myself wanting to scoop her up and take her away—anywhere where she could relax and forget about all this. No one deserved to be taken advantage of, but the sense of protectiveness she elicited was unusual for me.
With my energy focused on work, I studiously avoided getting caught up in messy emotional entanglements. Yet, I found myself wanting to do whatever was necessary to hold Brett accountable and to tidy up whatever mess he’d created for Mari, which made no sense. I mentally shied away from contemplating just what I was doing and why.
Mari sighed again. “I don’t know. I have no way to get home, and Brett seems to have maxed out every single credit card I have. Before you go thinking I was too trusting, they weren’t even in his name. I’m pretty sure he figured out all my logins and…” Her words petered out, and she lifted a hand to brush a loose lock of hair away from her face.
I was torn between two impulses. On the one hand, I could simply buy her a plane ticket. On the other hand, I knew when she got home, she was going to find out the situation with her apartment if she hadn’t already. I’d had a friend who happened to be a private investigator do a quick check on her. Among other things, he’d scouted up that she’d recently moved out of one place and had leased another. Except the lease had been terminated two days ago after Mari had arrived here in New Orleans.
I wanted a little time with Mari. She got to me. I wasn’t thinking rationally, and I didn’t care. I shook my thoughts loose and repeated my question. “How can I help?”
“Honestly, I should probably just stay here until I figure out a plan. I already know from talking to my landlord that I have to find a new place.” Her mouth twisted in a bitter smile, although she didn’t add more to that explanation. Ah-ha. So she did know. Well, at least I wasn’t the bearer of that news. “No sense in paying for a plane ticket when I could use the money in other ways,” she finished.
Because it was my nature, I got practical. “Do you need to go back for work?”
Mari shook her head. “No. My job’s mobile. Not that it’s the most lucrative, but I’m a journalist.”
“Hmm. I recall Max mentioning that.”
“Do you know my brother well?”
“Our connections are business, but I trust him and consider him a friend.”
Mari lifted a hand and swiped away a bead of sweat rolling down her temple.
“I’d offer to buy your plane ticket, but I’m not sure that’s what you want. Why don’t we get out of this heat?”
Mari held my gaze for several moments, something flickering in the depths of her eyes. After a beat, she looked away, staring blankly into the rows of cars parked beyond the entrance to the airport. When she looked back, the only word I could think of to describe her was resigned. “Let’s definitely get out of the heat.”
“Come on.” I reached for her suitcase, and she yanked it out of the way.
“I can get it,” she snapped.
I eyed her for a second and then shrugged. “Mari, I would offer to help anyone with their luggage. It’s just manners.”
Her low laugh was like a light lash of the whip on the lust driving me ever since I laid eyes on her the other day. Although she was frazzled and frustrated and slightly wilting in the New Orleans heat, she was still breathtaking.
She was quiet as we walked. I flicked through the memory banks in my brain, trying to recall what Max had told me about his younger sister. He spoke fondly of her, and her mentioning she was a journalist had jogged my memory on that detail. I knew Max would be curious to learn what Brett had done. It wasn’t the money so much. Given how much money Max had, he could easily remedy that situation. But, he wouldn’t stand for the way Brett did this to Mari.
The air cooled as we walked into the parking garage. My hand rested reflexively on Mari’s back and coaxed her in the direction of my car. The subtle touch was a habit, yet I had to admit I liked being able to touch Mari. I could feel the heat of her skin sifting through the thin fabric of her cream-colored blouse.
Being born and raised in New Orleans, my manners had been drilled into me by my mama. She always said manners were like butter—that they made every moment a little bit better just the way butter made food better.
“Right here,” I said, coming to a stop at the back of my vehicle.
Mari’s eyes swung to mine. “I suppose I might have expected something more ostentatious from you, Nash,” she commented as she eyed my sleek black sedan.
