“No, you’re not. Talk to me.”
I motioned for another drink, and after a quick raise of her brows, she poured me one. After I drank some, I said, “I’ve had quite a few miscarriages and I’m not sure I’ll ever have kids. This is just stirring up feelings I’d rather avoid.”
“I take it you want kids.”
“Like you wouldn’t believe,” I admitted quietly, the ache in my heart growing.
She reached out and placed her hand on my arm. So out of character for Roxie. She was not a woman who engaged in displays of affection. “Have you spoken to Nash about this or have you been bottling this up?”
I sighed. “Roxie, he’s just beginning to deal with his own loss after all these years. I don’t want to burden him with my shit.”
“Isn’t that what relationships are all about? Sharing the highs and lows.”
“Yeah, but the timing isn’t right.”
“Is it ever right?”
“I think there are certainly times that are more right than others.” The champagne had started to buzz through my system and I drank more, silently begging it to hurry up and block the pain pricking my heart.
“I disagree, Velvet. If something is upsetting you, you have every right to ask your partner to help you through it regardless of what he is going through at the time.” Her gaze slid to my glass of alcohol before coming back to meet mine. “Better to talk it through with him than to drink your way into denial.”
The truth in her words hit home and I blew out a long breath. “Shit,” I muttered.
“Are you finished with your treatments?”
“Almost. Why?”
“Because I think you should call Nash and ask him to come and get you now. Actually, you go finish and I will call him while you do.”
I smiled at her. “Thank you,” I whispered.
“All good,” she replied, and I knew she hadn’t grasped my full meaning.
I placed my hand on her arm and said, “No, I mean thank you for being a good friend. I don’t have
very many so it means a lot to have you.”
She stared at my hand on her arm for what felt like a long time and then she shocked the shit out of me by putting her arms around me and pulling me close for a hug. “I don’t have a lot either,” she murmured before letting me go.
I watched as she headed for the phone at the front counter, a warm, happy feeling surging through me. She hadn’t said much but her actions did all her speaking; Roxie valued my friendship just as much as I valued hers, and that was something I truly treasured.
* * *
An hour later, Nash walked through the doors of the salon, his eyes trained on me as he strode to where I stood at the back of the shop.
“Thanks for coming,” I said, smiling at him.
He bent his face to place a kiss on my lips, and when he ended it, I curled my hand around the back of his neck to keep his lips where they were. I needed more. As I deepened the kiss, he groaned into my mouth, and the way his body moved into mine told me he loved every second of it.
“Not that I’m complaining, but what was that for?” he asked when I finally let him go. His hand was on my ass and he didn’t move away from me.
“That was for coming to get me, and for being you, and for loving me,” I said, the words gushing out of me thanks to the alcohol in my system.
“You never need to thank me for picking you up. If you need me, I’m here for you,” he replied and then paused for a moment before asking, “You ready to go?” His voice had turned gruff and it hit all the right spots.
As the sensations his voice caused rushed through me, my eyes dropped to his chest and I took in the hard muscles his grey t-shirt hid, and then my gaze slid lower to his jeans and motorcycle boots. Everything about this man turned me on.
I looked back up into his face. His amused expression was hard to miss as he waited patiently for me to answer him. “Yes, I’m ready,” I muttered, mentally berating myself for being so easily distracted.