Page 141 of Too Close To Home

Harrison pressed his thumb and forefinger into his eyes. “I should’ve known.”

“Maybe. Maybe I should’ve known too. Maybe everyone who loved him has spent three years finding things we think we should’ve noticed. But we didn’t know what was happening inside his head. Not all of it.”

Harrison glanced down at his ring. “Yeah.”

Nigella waited a beat, probably sorting through her own emotions about all that, then when she came back, she was softer, less clinical counsellor and more the best friend and sister-in-law he desperately needed right then. The only tether he had to the world he used to know.

“Alright… let’s try something else.” Her tone softened, but the warmth stayed. “You and me. Nell and Harry. Tell me about him. Ruggedly handsome? A bit wild? Impulsive?”

Harrison let out a quiet breath. “All of the above. And then some.”

“Typical.” He could hear the smile in her voice. “What does he do? Aside from getting himself tangled up in police investigations?”

“He’s a roofer.” A pause. “And a drummer in a local band.”

“Practical and artistic.” She hummed. “Very you. And convenient, given the state of your new cottage.”

“Hm.”

“How does he feel about you?”

Harrison drifted his gaze to the metal steps outside, up at the flat above. The small window flickered with light, then went dark.

How did Jake feel?

He knew enough to know Jake didn’t lack for options. Men came and went. Easy. Uncomplicated. Brodie had been one. The man from the night in question—another. Quick connections. No expectation of anything more.

That wasn’t how Harrison worked.

But then he thought about the way Jake had stopped. The way he’d backed off without hesitation. No frustration. No pressure. How he was… there. Steady. Careful. As if Harrison breaking apart in front of him was something to be handled, not avoided.

Something to be held.

“I don’t know,” he said at last. Then he scrubbed a hand over his jaw, grounding himself. “But, Nell…” He glanced at his watch. “I’m slightly against the clock. I’ve got a suspect in custody. And—” He did a quick mental calculation he should’ve made hours ago. “—about eight hours to find enough to justify holding him.”

“Well, in that case, it’s good to hear your priorities are in order. Snogging a witness? Clearly an excellent use of police time.”

Despite himself, he smiled. “I needed to hear your voice, so I didn’t feel so…alone.”

The sarcasm softened immediately. “You’re not alone, Harry, You buggered off very far away, but I am always here for you. And we will talk. Properly. Not like this, squeezed in between you spiralling and running an investigation. When you’ve actually got the space to think.”

“I’d like that.”

“I’ll come up. Find a couple of days that align for us. You can show me this leaky cottage of yours, and I’ll judge all your life choices in person over a bottle of Chardonnay or three.”

Harrison’s chest eased a fraction as he reached for the ignition and turned the engine over. “Bring an umbrella. No one mentioned it rains here permanently.”

She laughed. “It doesn’t. It just feels like it when you first arrive.”

“Mm.”

“The sun’ll come out for you when it’s ready.”

Harrison smiled, small but real.

Typical Nigella.

Then he pulled away from the kerb, leaving Jake’s flat, and the absolute catastrophe of what he’d just done, behind him to head towards the high street.