Chapter 16: A False Start: Chapter 16

The fields whip past as I make the five-minute drive down the road, clenching the steering wheel hard enough that I could almost rip it right off. Tripod sits on my lap, happily looking out the window, my new constant companion. I swear the floofy little dog just follows me everywhere all day. I’m not mad at it either.

It’s the weekend, and we’re supposed to go up to my place to do some maintenance for a few days, so I don’t go back to a total disaster when my contract is up at the end of August.

But first, I told Stefan I’d come to his place early to help him with the massive load of hay he just received. Then he’ll come help do some things around my place for a couple of days. Even told him we could do some target practice to prepare for hunting season. A fire, some food, bring the wife—basically camp out for a couple of nights. A fair trade if you ask me.

Seemed like the least I could do, seeing as how I’ve been avoiding him. And avoiding his little sister. My plan to be a huge enough dick to push Nadia away has worked. In spectacular fashion.

Except now, I’m not so sure it was a good plan at all.

It’s been a month since I devoured her behind the local pub. Since she rode my leg while I put my marks all over her tits like an out-of-control caveman. I roughed up the twenty-one-year-old girl who has on her fucking bucket list like she was just some eager jersey chaser waiting behind the stadium to turn a head.

How selfish can I possibly be?

Obviously selfish enough to send her packing. Mission accomplished. So why do I feel like total trash about it?

Within a few days, she moved Cowboy to her brother’s farm. Probably because she caught me staring at her out my back window while she worked with him. When my only friend showed up with a trailer, he was all excited that his sister would be hanging around and he’d get to see her more often.

I had to pretend to be happy for him. Deep down, I was jealous. The petty part of me felt like he was taking her from me.

But I’m old enough to know better. I’m smart enough to know that I’m what sent her packing. That girl looked up in my eyes and gave me the perfect opportunity to tell her I’m fucking obsessed with her.

And I didn’t take it.

I’m a coward.

She told me she’d stop coming after me, and she did. I just didn’t expect it to gut me the way it has.

This thing between Nadia and I should have me this keyed up after a month. I shouldn’t still feel bad. I’ve been the king of no-strings hookups for my entire adult life. It’s not something I’m especially proud of at my age; nevertheless, it’s not like this is unfamiliar territory for me.

The problem with Nadia is that there are a lot of fucking strings. So many strings. And I’ve completely tangled myself in them. Tied myself up in knots over the girl.

Usually, I’m the one tying someone up. So, I guess that part is new.

The vision of winding my rope around Nadia’s slender wrists takes root in my mind as I turn into the driveway at Cascade Acres. The way she’d squirm in pleasure against them. All the things I’d do to her if I had her at my mercy. All the things I could show her.

I’m yanked from my filthy train of thought, the one that has me thickening in my jeans, when I see Nadia’s parked car in front of the barn and her brother standing outside the big sliding door waving at me. Smiling at me.

Because he has no idea what I was just thinking about doing to his little sister.

I grind my teeth, willing the swelling in my jeans to ease. It’s easy to do with Stefan acting like he’s happy to see me. Shame is a real boner-killer.

I adjust myself quickly, taking a deep breath before offering him a quick nod and pulling the brim of my hat lower on my face, fully intending to hide underneath here today.

Hopping out, I offer a gruff, “Hey.”

I slam the door of my truck harder than necessary, and Tripod takes off somewhere. Probably to eat horse shit. I guess after starving for however long he did, his palate isn’t very discerning because he fucking loves the stuff.

The sun already beats down overhead, heating the cool morning air. We’re hitting the dog days of summer where we’re close enough to fall that the nights are cold, but the sun still chases the chill away. When it’s high in the sky, it’s almost insufferably hot.

Truth be told, I prefer the heat of summer. I hate bundling up. I hate how stuck I feel when we get a heavy snowfall on the mountain and can’t go anywhere. The only thing those colder nights have me looking forward to is hunting season. It’s how I stock up on food for the days when I can’t go anywhere.

On one hand, I love the solitude. On the other, the longer I spend up in the mountains, the lonelier it gets. Something I haven’t been able to admit to myself until this summer spent on Gold Rush Ranch. I know I can be a grumbly prick. I know I don’t talk much. But it’s been nice having people talk around me.

Or talk me the way that Nadia did. I miss that. The charm of her chatting away and not expecting me to interject but enjoying my company all the same. Most people treat me like I’m a letdown on the days I don’t talk much.

But not her.

I didn’t need to talk for her to enjoy my company.

“You ready for this?” Stefan pulls on a pair of leather gloves and nods toward the flatbed stacked with square bales.

We’re going to be here all day. I almost forgot the sheer scale of running this place. Up on the mountain, I only ever have a few horses at a time for training, plus Spot. It’s manageable enough, but this . . . this is a lot. Stefan has the money to pay people to do the work, but I think he likes to feel useful.

A deep sigh rushes out of me as I peek out at my friend. “Let’s go.”

He claps me on the shoulder. “I owe you one, man.”

I flinch.

Jesus. Not even close. “All good.” I pull my gloves from my back pocket, ready to dig in. It’s when I’m sticking my second hand in that I feel it.

Electricity prickling across my skin. The sensation like I can’t suck enough air into my lungs. My eyes shoot up, right into the warm pools of bourbon that are Nadia’s. The only bourbon I crave these days.

She’s standing in the open door, holding Cowboy’s lead rope. But she’s not smiling. Her lips are parted, and she looks like she lurched to a stop after seeing me. She looks like she’s wishing I weren’t here.

And fuck. I wish I could say the same, but she’s a welcome sight. We’ve kept our distance for weeks. I’ve kept my head down and worked the young horses. I’ve visited Billie to update her on their progress and honestly, I’ve enjoyed working with her, chatting about the youngsters in my care. That’s what’s kept me busy.

But now, taking Nadia in, I realize I’ve been going through the motions. Cowboy’s back leg is bandaged, and I roll my lips together to keep myself from asking her if he’s okay, if he had his surgery. I want to talk to her so fucking bad. Just being in her presence makes my chest ache in a completely unfamiliar way.

After mauling her, I told myself I was going to call up one of my regular booty-calls, but I sit at home every night jerking myself into a towel on the couch, while I imagine her standing at that back door.

Except she doesn’t just stand there in my fantasy.

She joins me. She crawls onto my lap and kisses me. Straddles me and slams herself down on top of me.

I snap my head away, not wanting Stefan to see me standing here staring at her like a horny teenager. Or, in Nadia’s case, like she’s annoyed with me.

My cheeks burn as I climb up onto the flatbed, feeling like a bigger piece of shit than I have in years.

“Ready?” My friend claps his hands with a wide grin.

I nod, then throw myself into tossing bales of hay off the truck. Hoping upon hope that losing myself in physical labor will numb the sting of the expression on Nadia’s face.

But I’m not that lucky.

We’re only a few minutes in when Stefan shouts, “Hey, any chance you want to come help?”

“No, thanks. I just had my nails done.” Nadia’s cool voice floats up from behind me. I don’t need to look at her to know that she doesn’t want me here—let alone work with me.

Stefan laughs, clearly not picking up on her brushing him off. “Grab some gloves from the barn. Just for a bit. We’re supposed to head up to Griffin’s place for the night. Mira’s got Hank and Trixie lined up to stay with Silas. I just wanna get this done.”

I hear her sigh. It sounds loud even though it’s not. That’s the thing about not talking very much—you hear more. Every little noise is more pronounced.

“Okay, fine.” I hear her stomp off, clearly not happy about being talked into this, but doing it anyway.

“You’re the best sister a guy could ask for,” Stefan shouts, chuckling and shaking his head. Then he turns to me, laughter lining his tone. “Man, she’s grown up so much. But she’s still got an attitude the size of Texas.”

I just grunt. I like her attitude.

“I hope she finds someone who can appreciate her. I’d hate to see anyone drum that wild streak out of her.”

I snort. “She’d eat ‘em alive first. Women like her aren’t meant to be tamed,” I blurt out before I even have time to obsess over the And I immediately worry I’ve said too much.

“See?” Stefan pants, running a forearm over his sweaty brow. “You get it.”

I turn back to the bales. Talking about this with Stefan is precarious territory.

“Okay. Where do you want me?”

I clamp my eyes shut. I can’t see her, but even her goddamn voice sets me off. I’m fucking losing it. I haven’t had a drop of alcohol, and yet I feel downright intoxicated around her. Like I’m completely out of control, and after spending years working on regaining it, I that feeling.

“Just swap spots with Griffin. Hand the bales down and he can get them set under the cover-all. That work for you, Griff?”

“Yup. Sure.” Stefan’s brow rises at the bite in my tone, so I force a wolfish smile.

He rolls his eyes and gets back to grabbing bales from the top of the stack like he’s grown accustomed to me being a grumpy bitch and isn’t all that ruffled by it.

When I turn around, Nadia has one booted foot on the bumper of the trailer and is pulling herself up. I offer her a hand to help, but she waves me off and moves right past me, leaving me in a dazed cloud of her signature rose-petal scent. The one that gets me every time I walk past the flower section at the grocery store. The girl is driving me nuts.

The breeze of a bale flying past me cools my skin, the scent of dried grass mingling with that floral smell. “Get to work, Sinclaire,” she says before turning to grab the next one while her brother laughs at me from the other end of the trailer.

I don’t know how long we work like that. An assembly line of sorts. Stefan handing a bale down to Nadia from the top of the pile, and then Nadia handing me the bale down to where I stand on the ground.

She avoids looking at me, and to be fair, I do a pretty good job of hiding my gaze beneath the brim of my baseball cap. Now and then, our gloved hands make contact. Her leather-bound fingers wrapped around the twine, brush against mine. It feels forbidden. It feels It feels like fucking torture.

But when she announces she’s done helping and has something else to do—when she leaves?

That feels even worse.