All of Me Page 21

  “That’s what you say now,” he replied, surprising her with the fierceness of his words. “But when things fall apart, you’ll be able to throw all of that stuff back at me. Telling people how you feel is like handing them a loaded gun. It’s dangerous.”

  “Are you so sure things are going to fall apart?”

  “It has to at some point, doesn’t it?” he said with such detached resignation that Stella’s heart hurt.

  She bent her elbow and propped her head on her hand. “Nathan, we still haven’t talked about everything you told me the other night,” she said softly.

  “Yeah, I know.” He ran a hand down his face then dropped his forearm over his eyes.

  “Have you ever talked to somebody? About everything you’ve gone through?”

  Nathan scoffed. “Fuck, no.”

  “I think it would really help you. I’ve done it on and off since my mom died. My therapist, Jen, is great. Maybe she can give us a referral to someone who specializes in PTSD.”

  Nathan looked horrified. “I don’t have fucking PTSD. Or any other problems that a headshrinker could help me with. I saw enough of those assholes while I was in the system and they did nothing but fuck me up worse. If I never interact with another again, it’ll be too soon.”

  “Okay, okay, I didn’t know you felt so strongly about it. But, for the record, I think it would be an excellent decision. I’ll let it go for now.” At his scowl, she fake locked her lips and threw away the key.

  Nathan snorted.

  Stella sat up and reached for her pants. “After I clean up, I’m going to dig into these nasty treats. I’m starving.”

  “Are you taking a shower?” Nathan asked, his eyes hungry and hot again as he eyed her bare lower half.

  “Why? You wanna join me? At Nathan’s nod, Stella gave him a half-smile and jumped up. “Gotta catch me first!”

  Nathan caught her before she had taken three steps.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Nathan dragged a forearm across his sweaty forehead, braced his palms on his knees, and pushed to a stand. Hands on hips, he stared down at Stella’s Stratton & Briggs.

  He shot her a glance as she stepped through her sliding patio door. “Stella, when was the last time you changed the oil on this lawnmower?”

  “Uh, never,” she replied.

  His brows shot up from beneath his sunglasses.

  Stella shrugged. “I didn’t know it had oil or maybe I would have considered changing it.”

  “What did you think this cap with the oil can on it was for?”

  “To tell you the truth, Nathan, I never really thought about it. My dad gave it to me when I bought the house and I’ve mowed the lawn with it ever since. I put gas in it when it dies and I try to remember to put it in the garage when it rains. That’s about the extent of my interaction with the lawnmower.”

  “Uh-huh…” Nathan swiped a forearm across his forehead and sighed. “Okay. Well, I’ll take care of it.”

  Stella grinned. “I’m sure you will, Sergeant Stickler. I have no doubt my lawnmower will be the best maintained, cleanest, and most efficient lawnmower in Cleveland when you’re done with it.”

  He grunted, bending down to mess with something on the mower.

  “Thanks for everything you’ve done around here today,” Stella said as she sank into a patio chair.

  Nathan had spent the last two weeks taking care of some desperately needed stuff around Stella’s house, starting with replacing the doorframe he’d cracked and patching the hole he’d put in her wall. So far today he’d mowed, laid new mulch, and chastised her for not keeping spare spool trim for the grass trimmer. He’d also mentioned - despite his best attempts not to – that he hadn’t been real thrilled with the state of her garage or the organization of her tools either. But all had been forgiven when Stella had kissed his cheek and told him how adorable his anal retentiveness was.

  “No problem,” Nathan replied.

  “Are you hungry? I can make you something.”

  “Yeah. Do you want to go out or I can go grab something?”

  “I’m actually not feeling great all of a sudden.” Stella shielded her eyes and looked up. “I think it’s the heat and humidity. But I have some ziti I can throw in the oven for you.”

  Nathan eyed her. “Clarify ‘not feeling great.’”

  “It’s no big deal. I get nauseous in the heat sometimes. And I’ve been going in and out of the air conditioning, which I’m sure didn’t help,” Stella said.

  Now that she mentioned it, Stella did look a little green. And she looked exhausted. A pang of fear shot through Nathan’s heart.

  He slapped his game face on, hands on hips. “This have anything to do with cancer stuff?”

  A weird expression crossed her face before Stella waved off his concern. “No, no, no, nothing like that. Seriously, Nathan, I get like this every summer. When I go in and out of the air too much, I get a little queasy. But I do need to talk to you. Just for a sec.” Stella gestured inside. “Why don’t you come in for a few minutes? I’ll throw the ziti in and we can talk.”

  Nathan’s fear turned to dread. I need to talk to you had never gone anywhere good. Ever. But he nodded and followed her into the house.

  Nathan kicked off his shoes outside and shut the sliding patio door. He washed his hands in the sink while Stella pulled something out of the freezer.

  Her uncharacteristic silence was freaking him the fuck out. By the time Stella finally spoke, Nathan’s head was about to explode.

  “Let’s go sit in the front room.” Stella slid the foiled-covered glass dish into the oven and shut the door. Her weird smile did nothing to alleviate Nathan’s fears.

  Nathan followed her into the front room and sat in the chair next to the couch. As soon as Stella’s butt hit the couch, she blurted out, “I found a lump in my right breast.”

  Nathan’s stomach dropped. And his chest tightened. But all he said was, “What does that mean?”

  “It means I found a tiny – like pea-sized – mass in my breast. It could be nothing. Is probably nothing. But, of course, I have to get it checked out.” Stella exhaled a long breath she’d probably been holding all morning. She looked down at her hands, clasped in her lap, then back up at Nathan. “I made an appointment for tomorrow afternoon.”

  “I’m going with you.”

  “Totally not necessary. They won’t do the biopsy tomorrow anyway. They’ll just take some blood and urine and the doctor will feel around a little. But if you’re willing to come with me for the biopsy, I’d appreciate that.”

  The word biopsy had Nathan feeling…strange. Off-kilter. Furious. Terrified. Unsettled. Lost.

  Helpless.

  “I’m still going with you.”

  “You have to work tomorrow afternoon, Nathan. Please don’t worry about it. One of my sisters will go, okay?” Stella walked over and dropped herself into Nathan’s lap. She wound her arms around his neck. “Are you freaking out?”

  When Nathan nodded, she pulled him into a hug. “That’s why I didn’t want to tell you. I didn’t want you worrying over nothing.”

  Stella momentarily distracted him with her coconut/vanilla scent and her lips against his ears. And her sweet little body curled up against his. But eventually her words made it to his brain.

  Nathan pulled back, brows furrowed. “How long have you known about this lump?”

  Her face fell.

  “Goddamn it, Stella,” he said quietly. “Tell me right now. When did you find it?”

  She winced. “A month ago.”

  Nathan stared at her for a long time. From living as himself for 32 years, he knew his outside looked completely calm and controlled, but his insides were raging.

  Hard.

  He lifted her and then set her down on the couch. Nathan was too angry to be that close to her right now. He was liable to shake her…or fuck her.

  Stella wrapped her arms around her midsection and looked up at him; her dark eyes full o
f emotion. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. But I didn’t expect things to go the way they went.” She smiled. “It’s all going kind of quickly with us, you know?”

  Nathan stood in front of her fireplace and crossed his arms over his chest. “You’ve had plenty of opportunities to tell me, Stella, and you chose not to. You go on and on about trust and telling each other everything and then you keep something like this from me? I cannot understand it.”

  All fury and frustration bled away as Stella’s eyes filled with tears and her lower lip started quivering.

  Nathan knelt in front of her, bracing his hands on her knees. “Why didn’t you trust me enough to tell me?” When she tried to avert her eyes, Nathan gently grabbed her chin and tilted it back. “Is it because you already know it’s cancer and you’re worried how I’ll take it?”

  “It’s because I’m worried you’ll be completely turned off if I lose the other breast too,” she blurted out, tears leaking out of the corners of her eyes. Stella huffed softly. “I don’t think I knew that until this exact moment, but I think that’s the real reason I didn’t say anything.”

  Her dark gypsy eyes were so…full. Of fear and worry. And desperation. It was a look Nathan had seen thousands of time during his life, but it had never affected him like it was right now.

  “I’m going to say this once and that’s it. Because it’s so ridiculous I shouldn’t have to say it twice.” Nathan tightened his grip on her chin slightly and tilted her head back farther. He stared into her eyes. “My attraction to you – no, let’s be blunt…my lust for you – has nothing – nothing – to do with the existence or absence of breast tissue. You are the sexiest, most desirable woman on the planet and that will not be diminished in anyway by the loss of your other breast. You have two things that matter to me…” He pointed to her head. “…this. And…” he tapped a finger above her heart. “…this. As long as you have those two things, you’ll have me panting after you forever. You know it, I know it, and that’s the end of it. Period.”

  “Oh, Nathan…” Stella threw her arms around him and buried her face into his neck. “I love you. So, so, so much.”

  Nathan whispered against her ear. “I want you to be healthy and happy. And with me. That’s all I care about, Little One. Period. Got it?”

  Stella nodded, melting into him. It was the safest she’d ever felt in her life and Stella stayed there for a long time; breathing in Nathan’s scent as he gently ran his fingertips up and down her spine.

  God, she was so comfortable. And tired. Stella closed her eyes.

  “Stella, baby?” Nathan’s voice, quiet and deep, startled her.

  She jerked a little in his arms. “Yeah, yeah. Sorry, I think I drifted there for a second.” Stella yawned. “I am sooooo tired.” She nipped at Nathan’s neck. “Because somebody kept me up all night.”

  Nathan snorted. “Then don’t sleep naked.”

  He’d been amazing…and relentless.

  With one smooth motion, he picked her up and carried her to the bedroom.

  “But the ziti,” Stella said weakly, already yawning again.

  “I got it. I’m not much of a cook, but I can take a pan out of the oven without screwing it up too much.” Nathan set her in bed, pulled the covers up to her chin, and turned off the side table light. He leaned down and gave her a quick kiss. On the forehead.

  When Stella tried to pull him back for a proper kiss, he cracked a half-smile. “Nope. None of that right now. We get started down that road and you won’t be sleeping for another couple of hours.”

  “That’s okay,” Stella said, but her eyelids were already half-closed.

  She heard Nathan chuckle, low and deep. He caressed her cheek. “Get some sleep, Little One. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

  “Don’t forget we have dinner with the crazies tonight.”

  “I don’t forget. Anything. I’ll get you up by 5,” Nathan said. He ran his thumb up and down her jawline then over her lips.

  “I love you, Nathan,” Stella whispered. When a weird, pained expression crossed his face, Stella turned and pressed her lips to his inner wrist. She smiled up at him. “I know you love me too. You don’t have to say it.”

  Nathan stared at her intensely for a while before finally turning to leave the bedroom.

  Stella snuggled into her pillow and was out before Nathan made it to the door.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Stella changed the station on his radio. “Wow,” she said, shaking her head. “This song takes me back. It was on the Titty Tape my sisters made for me when I was going through chemo and radiation.”

  Nathan shot her a look. “First of all, what is this shit? And second of all…a Titty Tape?”

  “It’s The Fighter by Gym Class Heroes. My sisters bought me an iPod, loaded a bunch of inspiring songs on it, and called it my ‘Titty Tape.’ Then, they made another playlist about healing and getting over stuff and called it ‘Mastectomy Mash Up.’” She grinned. “My sisters are really twisted.”

  “No, they’re…awesome. And I hate that word, so you know I really think that’s…well…cool – which is another word I hate. You’re lucky to have such a supportive family.”

  Nathan hoped she didn’t detect any fucked up wistfulness in his voice.

  She turned face him; her expression telling Nathan she’d gotten dangerously good at reading him. “You’re in that family now, too, Nathan. I know you’re going to love them.” She grabbed the hand he had resting on his thigh. “And they’re going to fall completely in love with you just like I did.”

  “Even your dad?”

  “Why wouldn’t my dad love you?”

  “I wouldn’t be too thrilled with my daughter hooking up with poor, white trash if I were him.”

  Especially poor white trash that had survived by begging him for food year after year. Not exactly the kind of guy you’d trust your daughter’s well-being with.

  Stella reared back. “Nathan, you are not poor, white trash. You grew up poor – which was no fault of your own. But you are a respected police officer now and the farthest thing from trashy I’ve ever seen. I am so sorry you see yourself that way. Because it’s not true. At all.”

  Nathan grunted. “Fine. Never mind. Just trying to be funny.”

  But she already knew Nathan wasn’t really big on jokes and, even if he was, it was blatantly obvious that hadn’t been one.

  “And even if you were still poor, should that matter? Yes, a father would want his daughter taken care of, but love is love and money is money.”

  “That’s always really easy to say for people who have always had it,” he shot back.

  Stella nodded. “You’re right. I have no right to tell you how to feel and, if you feel like poor, white trash, then I guess that’s your prerogative. But the facts remain the facts: you aren’t poor, you aren’t trashy, and…well…you are white, but there’s nothing we can do about that, can we?” she asked, grinning.

  Nathan shot her a look.

  “Okay, okay, I’ll stop analyzing you. For now. Anyway, I was thinking maybe we could invite Danny to the next family dinner.”

  “Danny in the same room with six females?” Nathan scoffed. “We might not be able to keep our food down with all the schmoozing going on.”

  Stella laughed. “Yeah, but he has to be feeling lonely now that you’re always with me.”

  “Nah. We didn’t do too much socializing outside of work anyway.”

  “Why’s that?”

  Nathan looked out the driver’s side window. “Because Danny’s favorite places to hang out are bars, strip clubs, dance clubs, and strange women’s homes he’s met at the previously mentioned locations.”

  “Oh.” Stella was quiet for a few seconds and Nathan figured Danny was now off her Christmas list. She surprised him by saying, “That kinda makes me sad. I mean, I’m sure he’s having a blast and maybe it’s just me, but that seems like a really sad, lonely way to live. Does he have any family?�
��

  “No. The last foster family he lived with was good to him, but they were an elderly couple and have both since passed away.”

  “Now I really think we should invite Danny next time. He’s your family and now you’re our family, so he’s family too.”

  Nathan had noticed the very tenuous and often manufactured reasons for bringing more people into Italian families: taking in wounded birds and stuffing as much food and affection down their throats as they could handle. And then stuffing just a little bit more.

  Danny had no idea what was about to hit him. And Nathan had his own healthy amount of fear about it too. He’d seen it over and over again growing up, but he’d never been a personal recipient of it. Nathan hadn’t had any real friends and had always been the quiet loner, so not too many connections there. But he’d gone to school with enough Italians and now interacted with them enough on the force to know their tricks.

  “Are cops even allowed to go to strip clubs? That seems like a pretty gross thing for an officer of the law to be doing.”

  “There’s nothing illegal about them. At least in theory. In fact, half the department went to a strip club a few nights ago for a bachelor party. Danny included.”

  “And you didn’t want to go?”

  “Of course not.”

  “Why?”

  Nathan stopped at a light and looked over at Stella. “Because I’d rather see you naked any day of the week.” When Stella smiled, he shrugged and faced forward. “And, anyway, I think you know by now I’m not into stuff like that. I’m not into treating women like inanimate objects and I have no interest in watching other people do it either.”

  Stella squeezed Nathan’s hand. “You’re a good person, Nathan. I know you don’t see it and I know it’s hard for you to believe it, but you are. And I just want you to know that I love you and think the world of you.” She kissed the back of his hand. “And my family will too.”

  ***

  Poor Nathan.

  Stella probably should have warned him about the mass chaos he’d be stepping in to. Her four sisters were bad enough, but five kids? Her brother in law (who’d hugged Nathan – hugged him – when they’d met?