Before he opened it, he stopped and turned back.

“Anya made it easy. Fell for me, gave me the beauty of her, didn’t make me work for it. Not even a little. Not a lot of women like her would put up with a man like me. Who I am. What I am. How I am. What I do. Barely a hesitation, she was all in. I needed that. Life I was born into, I needed something that important to come easy.”

Nick again remained silent, held his brother’s eyes and let Knight give him what he needed to give.

“You, brother, you started life havin’ it easy,” Knight continued. “Got a lot of love for you so this is difficult to say but I’m gonna say it. I like you gotta work for what’s important. If you work for it, you’ll get it. You’ll get why it was worth the work. You’ll never forget that. And you’ll finally get to where I am now after you wade through all the shit, knowin’, when you finally have it easy, just how worth it was to keep wading through. But bottom line, I know you’re a man who’s got the balls and the guts and the heart to stick it out and wade through.”

Nick gave it the time he needed to let his brother know that sunk in and it meant something to him.

Then he gave him shit.

“You done with heartfelt big brother lectures?”

Knight’s mouth quirked on his, “Fuck you.”

“You wanna meet my girl, safer for you to come to us at first. But I’m no one-trick pony so it isn’t gonna be steak.”

“Now he disrespects my steak,” Knight muttered.

“Get out. Got work to do.”

Knight grinned and turned.

He was almost out the door when Nick called his name.

He had men out there, Bernadette.

He didn’t care.

“Just so you know, love you too.”

A different kind of dark flashed in Knight Sebring’s eyes before he shook his head, grinned again and disappeared.

Nick got back to work.

* * * * *

6:02 – That Evening

The minute he heard the growl of her engine get close, Nick slid open the door and stood at the top of the stairs.

Even though he’d warned his security company to keep an eye out for any car he’d inventoried as being used by her father’s crew or anyone not associated with the building showing on the cameras repeatedly, he scanned the area. At the same time he did this, he watched her get out of her car, go to the back, grab the handles of some brown paper grocery bags and move gracefully up the stairs.

When she hit the landing, he hooked her with an arm and shuffled her in.

He was kissing her by the time he had her over the threshold. He kept doing it as he slid the door closed.

He only lifted his head when he’d turned the bolt home.

“Groceries?” he asked.

“I’m cooking.”

That night weeks ago when he’d ended things, she’d made some crazy-ass dessert that included a slapdash layering of nothing but brownies, heavy cream whipped with a packet of instant vanilla pudding and mini-Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups. It was fucking amazing but even professional eaters could only shovel two spoonfuls of it in their mouths before they started lapsing into a diabetic coma.

He’d watched someone he loved die and was tied to a chair, facing certain death just instants before being rescued. He had not let that paralyze him. He let it feed him. Therefore, since then, he’d done and seen a variety of some serious shit.

Nick didn’t fear much.

After one encounter with the results of her efforts in his kitchen, Olivia with groceries put the fear of God in him.

He shuffled her toward the kitchen, stating, “Maybe we should establish kitchen boundaries.”

“Dear God, more rules from Nick Sebring.”

“The one and only time you made something in my kitchen, I nearly lapsed into a sugar coma to the point it was touch and go I could fuck you.”

Her body locked, successfully stopping them from moving as she declared haughtily, “That’s the all-American dessert. Any proud, red-blooded American should easily be able to consume a huge bowl of that with a smile before they went off to plant a flag somewhere or win a gold medal or something.”

“That is not the dessert of champions, baby.”

“It most certainly is.”

“My arteries hardened just looking at it.”

She glared at him.

She was being cute and funny so Nick hugged her close and shoved his face in her neck as he burst out laughing.

He stopped laughing when she whispered in his ear, “I fucking love it when you do that.”

He lifted his head and looked down at his unsmiling princess who was again giving him something deep in her eyes.

“Drop the groceries,” he ordered.

“Sebring—”

“Drop the fucking groceries.”

She stared at him but she didn’t have to look deep.

He was giving it to her surface.

He watched her lick her lips as he heard the thumps of bags hitting the floor.

That was when Nick picked her up, took her to bed and fucked her.

Much later, he left her in his bed, naked, sated, dozing, tangled in his sheets. He retrieved the bags. He stopped paying attention to what he was putting away after he unearthed a packet of thick-cut bacon, a bag of seasoned, frozen curly fries, a jug of canola oil and huge bottle of Ranch dressing.

He made bangers and mash with homemade gravy, flash boiled fresh haricot vert and peas.

They ate in front of the TV, Nick in jeans and a tee, Olivia again in his shirt.