Easy This Time - JH Croix Page 0,38

he said.

“I don’t think alcohol is going to make me feel better,” I muttered as I slowly approached the counter.

He slid his hips onto a stool and tugged the other one out slightly before patting it with his hand. “Just take a few sips.”

He poured another glass of whiskey as I sat on the stool beside him. Lifting the tumbler, I took a swallow. “Oh, this is good,” I murmured as the liquor slid in a rich and smooth burn across my tongue.

“New Orleans has plenty of distilleries. We do whiskey right.”

It did take the jagged edge off of my nerves as I took a few more swallows. Looking over at him, I commented, “Bet you didn’t realize just how much of an asshole I dated.”

“I’ll tell you something my grandma told me when I was a little boy. I never forgot it,” he began.

“Are these words of wisdom?” I teased.

“I suppose, but it’s not my wisdom. Back when I first started up my business, I was young, and hungry for chances. Along the way, I made a few mistakes in my partnerships. I also dated a woman who totally screwed me over in a business deal. After that happened, I felt like I wasn’t cut out to chase after more than I had before. Gram told me the way people treat each other is a reflection of them, not you. Even though I got screwed over more than once, it didn’t say anything about me. It said something about the person and what they did. Don’t get me wrong; there are always lessons to be learned. But what Brett did is no reflection on you. You were a decent person, and you trusted him. Nothing wrong with that. I get it, maybe you feel like an idiot. But Brett’s the asshole here. You’re not the idiot.”

I took another swallow of my whiskey, and my nerves settled a bit more. Maybe it was numbness, but I wasn’t drunk. I just needed something to dull my jangly nerves.

“It’s always easier to see that for somebody else, isn’t it?” I commented.

“Always.”

“What did Max say?” I asked.

“He doesn’t think you’re an idiot. He thinks you wish for the best in everyone.”

I hadn’t realized just how tense my shoulders were until I felt them relax slightly. Nash’s words helped unwind the tension bundled there. I took another swallow of my whiskey before I set the glass down. “Your grandma seems like a smart woman.”

“She was, but that wasn’t my point. Everyone feels foolish sometimes.”

I idly traced my fingertip along the square tiles on the counter. “How worried do I need to be about these loan shark guys you’re talking about?”

When I risked a glance in Nash’s direction, his gaze was shuttered. That told me all I needed to know. He was trying too hard not to appear concerned. He was worried.

Spinning on my stool to face him directly, I added, “Be straight with me. Anything else, and I’ll assume the worst.”

Nash took a swallow of his drink. “These are men who get what they want, and they don’t exactly color inside the lines in the process.”

“The lines being the law?”

Nash nodded somberly. “Exactly.” There was a heavy pause, and then, “Max doesn’t want me to let you stay alone.”

“Are you serious?”

He nodded again. “I understand his concern. You can stay here, or come to my place. I was thinking tonight I would sleep on the couch here because we already have security set up. I can get everything lined up for my house by tomorrow. I have a security system, but I rarely have people on the property.”

A chill gusted through me. It felt as if an icy breeze passed through the inside of my body. This was getting too real.

“Jesus. Are you serious?” I repeated.

“Look, as soon as they know you’re connected to me, it will probably help. Maybe they’ve already figured it out from seeing me with you tonight. They won’t harm you, but they might use you for leverage to get to Brett.” As my brain was grappling with that insanity, Nash continued, “What do you say? I’ll crash on the couch here tonight. I’ll make arrangements for you to move out to my place tomorrow.”

I bit my lip, caught between two impulses. I didn’t like being told where I should stay, or what I should do. Yet, I was scared, and I knew it was probably the smart choice to stay with Nash. There was also a third impulse—the one