Perfectly Matched

“Yes. Of course. Sure. Come on in.” She flushed as she unlatched the two locks and pushed open the door. “Sorry. I was woolgathering.”

He frowned when she flicked both locks back into place once he was inside.

“You’re expecting pecan robbers or something?” he joked. “Not that you shouldn’t take precautions,” he added when she frowned at him. His gaze followed her motions as she checked and rechecked the two very solid locks.

“Can’t be too careful.” Embarrassed that he’d noticed her obsessive security measures, Shay regrouped, led the way into her living room and waved a hand. “Have a seat, Nick. Iced tea or coffee?”

“Whatever you have is fine. Um—” Nick eyed the furniture and remained standing.

Shay suddenly realized all the seats were covered with skeins of wool she’d sorted earlier. “Oh. Sorry.”

He remained silent while she scooped her yarn, needles and a pattern book from the biggest, roomiest chair. Then he said, “That looks complicated.”

“It’s going to be a blanket for Jaclyn’s baby. I just hope I can get it finished before she delivers.” Shay set the project in a woven basket on the floor next to the chair facing her wall of windows. “There. Now you can sit down.”

“Why did you pick something so difficult to make?” he asked.

“If it was easy, it wouldn’t be much of a gift,” she said with a quick smile. “I want my gift for this baby to be as special as Jaclyn is to me. I’ll be right back.”

When she returned with a tray that had two drinks and a dish of tortilla chips and salsa, he said, “You weren’t kidding about your view, were you? The orchards don’t look bad from here.”

“I hired someone to prune things a bit.” She sat down, aware of his wide-eyed scrutiny of her home.

“Maybe you should hire the same guy to cut all that tall grass in your backyard,” Nick suggested. “The rains in January spurred a lot of growth, but now it’s so dry that if a wildfire starts, that grass will feed it like gas. Your house could be in jeopardy.”

“I’ll get it done,” she promised, and added “soon” when he kept staring at her.

“Good.” Nick’s bemused gaze took in the splashes of color on the walls, the floors and the furniture. “This sure isn’t what I expected your place would look like.”

“What did you expect? Steel and glass and leather? Glitz and glamour?” Shay burst out laughing at his nod. “But, Nick, that’s not me.”

“Are you kidding?” He scowled. “How is glitz and glamour not you?”

“That’s what I did,” she said gently. “That’s how I made my living.” She pointed to the wall opposite them. “That’s the real me.”

“You made this?” Nick got up to examine an intricately stitched design of a little girl paddling at the seashore. It could have been Shay once, a long time ago. “It’s very nice. But—”

“Being a model only looks glamorous, Nick. There’s actually a lot of downtime, waiting for the photographer or the makeup person or hairstylist, and more endless hours in airports. Dad encouraged me to do handwork to pass the time. When I finished something, I’d put it away in a box he gave me.” She was not going to call it a hope chest. “That’s it there.”

Nick knelt in front of the intricately decorated trunk. “It’s lovely.”

“I kept putting things in there because I knew one day I’d have my own place, a place I could make into my home.” She waved a hand. “Most of what you see here is stuff I’ve made.”

Nick rose, examined cushions, hangings and the little stool she’d re-covered with a tapestry she told him she’d found in Italy.

“Did you make this, too?” he asked, indicating a canvas dotted with handprints that took up the entire wall behind the dining table.

“No. That was a gift from the kids I worked with before I came here.” As always, the colorful finger-painted mural made her smile. “I have the other half of it hanging in my office.” Shay waited for him to sit down again, sipping her drink as she puzzled over how to broach the subject she’d been musing on since she’d met with Maggie’s medical team earlier. “Catch me up on your world, Nick.”

“Not much to tell since we talked after Maggie’s accident.” He returned to his seat and took a drink before he spoke, his voice flat and emotionless. “Tore my shoulder, had surgery, gave up pro ball.”

“And now?” she prodded. “I know some athletes go into broadcasting. Is that what you’ll do?”

“No. I’m lousy at that. I get too caught up in the game and forget to make the comments they want. The only thing I know is playing football.” Nick’s face tightened into tense lines. His brown eyes deepened to that dark shade that told her he was brooding over something.

“You know a lot more than football, Nick.” Shay could see him mentally reject that but she let it hang, waiting.

“It seems I don’t know much that makes me employable. Anyway, I have six months’ leave and then I’ll go back to the team. They’ve offered me a job with the coaching staff.” Nick sounded—discouraged?

“Six months is lots of time,” she told him optimistically. “I’m sure you’ll be all healed up by then.”

“Oh, I’m healthy now. I asked for the six months so I could help Mom with Maggie, but I have to go back then for sure.” His response sounded less than thrilled.

“Well, a job is good. Isn’t it?” Shay added when he got lost in his thoughts.

“Yeah, a job is very good. Only I don’t like the thought of leaving Mom here, alone, to manage with Maggie,” Nick admitted. “It’s a lot for her to take on a kid Maggie’s age. Mom did so much for us, raising all of us on her own. She deserves to have some time for herself.”

“Knowing your mother’s great big heart, I seriously doubt she feels that way.” Shay sipped her tea and made a mental note to talk to Mrs. Green about her arthritis. But first she had to deal with the past. “I need to say something to you, Nick.”

“Go ahead.” He leaned back and waited.

“I—uh, never did thank you properly for your help in New York.” She swallowed hard and forced herself to continue, feeling nauseous. “What you did for me—well, it was more than I ever expected. I just wanted to make sure you know how much I appreciate it.”

“What are friends for, if not to chase away stalkers?” Nick joked. When she didn’t smile, his eyes narrowed. “You haven’t heard from him, have you?”

“No. Why?” Panic reached out and clamped its hand around her throat, taking away her breath. Her fingers involuntarily pinched the fabric of her capris. “Have you heard something?”

“Me?” Nick shook his head, his face confused as he studied her. “No.”

“Oh. Good.” She knew she’d just made a fool of herself with her reaction, but she still struggled with a sense of dread. “I—I never heard from him again after you read him the riot act.”

“That’s great.” Nick kept looking at her. “Isn’t it?”

Shay offered an unconvincing nod, still unable to shake her memories of those horrible days.

When the police couldn’t help, she’d fought to hold her world together on her own. And she’d been losing that war, until Nick arrived. She’d been so relieved to see a friend that day that she’d dumped the whole sorry tale on his broad shoulders. Being the good guy he was, Nick had insisted on knowing the details. Then he’d heard Dom’s voice, demeaning, threatening and mocking her.

Shay couldn’t believe it when Nick told Dom he’d taped the conversation and threatened police action and reprisals from what Nick claimed were legions of Shay’s friends. It worked—she’d never heard from the stalker again—but she’d never been able to shed the panic from those months of persecution. She always felt Dom was out there, lurking, waiting for her weakest moment to appear again.

“Did you ever figure out why this guy focused on you?”

“No. The first couple of times he emailed me through my fan page, he was very nice. He complimented me on my latest cover, said he’d seen me on a talk show, asked if I might throw my support behind a pet hospital, that kind of thing. He was very friendly.” Shivers speed-walked up her spine. “But by the time you came to New York, he’d become very aggressive. He told me he’d touched me without my realizing it. I didn’t believe him, but then he gave details and I knew he’d been near. Too near.”

“Nobody ever remembered seeing him?”

“No, and believe me, I questioned everyone, though I never actually told anyone what was going on. Later I learned some of the other models had faced the same thing, so they would have understood how worried I was, but...” She shrugged. “At the time I was too scared and embarrassed to talk about it.”

“Maybe he was someone you worked with.” Nick’s lips tightened into a grim line.