Free Falling For Nick by Joleen James Page A

dad?" John asked.
    Robert spun around. "Of course you don't."
    Clea's heart sank. She shot Robert a look of disapproval before returning her attention to John. "I'd like you to meet your father, but when you're ready. He understands this is hard for you. It's hard for Nick, too. He doesn't want to upset your life."
    John didn't reply, but he seemed to consider her words.
    "Do you have any questions?"
    His lips were clamped shut, another trait he'd inherited from Nick.
    "Well, I can tell you what I know," she offered. "Your father works at Mr. Mullin's garage. He is very good with cars, but you know that. You've seen his brother driving The Boss around town."
    "He works at Mullin's?" Robert came away from the window and headed for the office door. "I'll be back later. I have something to do." Before Clea could ask what, he left, and she gave a silent prayer he wasn't going to confront Nick.
    "Is my dad driving that car now?" John asked, pulling her thoughts back to him. "I saw it parked across the street."
    Clea smiled internally. She'd hoped that talking about cars would get John's attention. He loved cars as much as Nick. "Yes. I think he's staying at his mother's apartment."
    "Oh." John slumped back in the chair.
    Did he wonder why Nick hadn't come to see him? So many doubts plagued her, making her question every move she'd made since Nick's return. "Let's get you cleaned up, and have some dinner. We can talk more about your father then."
    He didn't reply.
    Somehow she had to repair the damage between Nick and John. She had no idea how to unite them, but for John's sake, she would have to try. John came first, now and always.
    *   *   *
     
    At seven o'clock Nick finally made it home. He'd left work just after three-thirty. After that he'd driven over to Bradley to pack up his things and tie up loose ends. Bone tired and filthy, he stripped off his clothes. Before he could jump in the shower, a knock sounded at the door.
    "Hang on," Nick called, going back into the bedroom to pull on his pants. He wasn't expecting anyone, but a small kernel of hope erupted in him at the thought that it might be Clea coming to talk. He opened the door.
    Boomer Bloomfield.
    His hope shattered. "I was wondering when you'd show up."
    Boomer looked Nick over from top to bottom. They'd never seen eye to eye, literally, with Boomer a good three inches shorter than Nick. Boomer didn't bother to hide his hatred. His eyes grew hard. His hands were knotted into fists at his sides. Boomer was one big ball of anger and frustration and tension, just like he had been as a teenager. Nick didn't know why, but he had the sudden urge to laugh.
    "Get out of town, Lombard," Boomer said. "You're not wanted here."
    "What is this, an old Western?" Nick asked, amused by the statement. "Are you going to ask me to draw my pistol next?"
    Boomer's face went red. "Don't you think you've upset Clea enough?"
    Nick didn't reply. He didn't owe Boomer any kind of explanation and they both knew it.
    Boomer took a step toward him. Would Boomer hit him? Probably not. The man was too smart. He'd always thought of Boomer as an iceman, a man who didn't show anyone but a select few, what he was really like. His talent for keeping his cool, for playing the victim, had landed Nick in jail for a crime that should have been labeled self-defense. More than anything he wanted Boomer to crack. He wanted Clea to see for herself what kind of man Boomer Bloomfield really was.
    "You aren't going to come between me and Clea again," Boomer said. "She belongs to me now. She always has. If you have any respect for her or for John you will get out of their lives. Don't drag them down with you."
    Nick didn't comment, but inside his blood boiled. He held his anger in check, a skill he'd perfected in prison.
    "Did you hear me, Lombard?"
    Boomer's eyes had a wild look Nick remembered from high school.
    "What's between Clea and me has nothing to do with you." Nick kept his tone calm and even,