It was much easier working evenings with Nicki, especially since their trip to Birch Falls. She even smiled occasionally. The effect was nothing short of dazzling. Lina had called to tell him that Kyle was impressed with her, and said he’d be willing to offer her an apprenticeship at Mo’s if she was interested. That was a first, Lina confided. Kyle had never done that for anyone, but Nicki had demonstrated a lot of raw, natural talent.
Sean hadn’t shared that with Nicki yet. He would, when the time was right, but for now, he enjoyed having her all to himself. It was just the two of them. He didn’t have to worry about the other mechanics or a constant stream of customers. The radio played in the background while they worked together in companionable silence. He loved to be able to glance up and watch her whenever he wanted without having to limit himself.
True to his word, he kept his distance. Nicki showed no indication that she would ask him to do otherwise, which was expected, but disappointing all the same. They spoke little.
The tension was there, though. He was certain that he could feel her eyes on him when she thought he wasn’t looking. After so many years in Ops, he knew the feeling of being in someone’s sights all too well. Too many times the little hairs on the back of his neck tingled, his mind cleared, and his adrenalin levels surged in preparation for fight or flight. He knew it was Nicki and not a sniper because along with the tingles and adrenalin, his cock would swell and harden until it throbbed painfully. Thank God that had never happened out in the field.
Despite that, though, being close to Nicki – at least in physical proximity – brought a peace to Sean that he didn’t quite understand. Yes, he wanted a hell of a lot more – if he didn’t bury himself in her body soon he was quite sure several parts of him might spontaneously ignite and turn to ash - but being in the same physical space at the same time, listening to music, hearing her hum along occasionally, was comforting. Seeing her, being close to her for those couple of hours each day, was something Sean looked forward to.
––––––––
Nick appeared one night, his face sober. He came in from the softly falling snow, his black hair plastered over equally soaked clothes as if he had walked the whole way from his apartment, and stood just inside the door.
“Nicki,” he said. From the look on his face, it was fairly easy to guess what had happened.
Charlene Milligan had finally succumbed.
Under Sean’s watchful eye, Nicki pulled herself from the car she was working on and met her brother at the door. Nick quietly spoke a few words to her; Sean’s suspicions were confirmed.
She shook her head. Nodded. Shook again. With a kiss to the top of her head, Nick left. For several long moments, Nicki didn’t move. Unable to stay away any longer, Sean crossed the distance between them.
“I’m sorry, Nicki.”
Nicki turned into him without a word, buried her face in his chest, and cried silently. He held her, wishing he could do more, knowing he couldn’t.
“I have to go,” she said.
“I know. Take all the time you need. Anything you need, you let me know.”
She nodded and sniffed, mumbling her thanks before leaving. It was all Sean could do to let her. She didn’t realize it yet, but she was his, and he was going to be there for her, even if that meant giving her the space he instinctively knew she needed.
––––––––
Nick didn’t show up for work the next day, but Sean hadn’t expected him too. He knew Nicki was busy making all of the necessary arrangements for their mother, and assumed that Nick would be with her.
Around six o’clock Nicki showed up unexpectedly at the garage. Sean was on his feet before she even stepped over the threshold.
“What are you doing here?” he asked, immediately regretting his words when he saw the hurt in her eyes. She shielded it quickly, but not quickly enough. Clearly she had misunderstood. “I was just about to lock up, thought maybe we could pick up some take-out, have a quiet night. If you’re up for it,” he added.
“Yeah?” she asked, turning those silvery eyes up to his, faded rims of red beneath the glossy black lashes. Her hair was down, falling about her shoulders loosely. Blatantly absent was any hint of the hard-ass biker chick he’d become accustomed to. Faded Levis, black top with a couple of buttons open, jean jacket. The little jewelry she wore was tame even by Catholic school standards, and the blush that played across her skin was natural.
“Yeah,” he said, putting the last of his files into one of the boxes on his desk and grabbing his jacket. He set the codes on the security panel and turned out the lights.
“You like Chinese?” he asked, taking her small hand in his. It felt cold; she made no attempt to pull away.
*
“Chinese is good,” she answered quietly.