Prologue
Nash
8months ago…
My teeth grind as I shoulder my way through the crowd of men lingering just inside the Thirsty Pony doors. Irritation courses through me, knowing I’d let duty to everyone but myself bring me to this damn party tonight.
My father insisted I do the proper thing and blend in with the locals. They’re supposed to be my people, too.“You grew up here just like the rest of us, so you damn well need to act like it,”he’d quipped, shoving me out the front door.“Nash, they know you, but they need to get to know you.”
His words struck a chord within my chest. A message like that would have sounded cryptic to anyone else, but I knew exactly what he meant. They might all know I’m his son and I’ll be running the business now, but he’s always been that degree of separation. I didn’t have to be one of them because my father was.
I’d felt cornered when Grayson Garrison boasted about his soon-to-be wife’s celebratory party at the Thirsty Pony tonight. The guy’s newfound happiness was almost infectious, but not enough for me to want to be here.
Crowds and bars are not my scene. A stranger’s skin touching mine, and their warm breath on my neck, makes me twitch. I prefer to be at home or on the ranch. Who the hell would choose to be surrounded by a group of drunk people over the silence or fresh air?
Rechecking my phone, I know it’s too early to leave. It doesn’t matter if I walked through the door ten minutes ago or two hours; proper etiquette would keep me stuck here until I’ve seen the right people.
In small-town counties like this, it’s not enough to make an appearance. There are hands to shake and faces you absolutely must see before you can call it a night. My childhood buddy, Beckett Hughes, is one of them. No doubt he got stuck working late at the law firm, leaving me to disappear into some dark corner attempting to avoid all of my father’s “friends.”
Sliding onto a barstool, I flag over the bartender. The guy waves his hand at me, signaling me to wait a minute while he talks to some female behind the counter who’s clearly arguing with him. Whatever it is, they need to hurry it along. A few cold ones are the only way I’m surviving tonight.
My fingers tap the bar top with an anxious beat watching them continue their disagreement. Only when she spins around, snatching her bag from beneath the bar with that defeated look on her face, do I notice that it’s Betty.
“Betty!” I call out to her, thankful for a familiar face. Beatrice “Betty” Hughes is Beckett’s younger sister. I’d been around her plenty as she was growing up, but she was only nine or ten when I first met her. Over the years, I’ve seen her here and there,especially when I was invited over for Sunday dinners, but as my eyes rake down her body now, it seems like ages.
As Beckett’s baby sister, she was almost like mine, too. As time passed, we remained distant friends, always cordial, often cracking jokes. Watching her grin stretch wide when she locks eyes with me causes me to sit a little straighter tonight, though I don’t know why.
“Oh wow, Nash!” she gasps, coming around the bar and wrapping me in a hug. “I didn’t know you were in town.”
My palms lightly press against her mid-back before we release one another. “Yeah, the business is mine now, so I’ll be around a lot more.”
She grins again, nodding, and I swear a flush creeps over her cheeks. “That’s great. Really great.” Those doe-brown eyes stare into mine, her lips parting as if she has more to say, but she remains silent for a beat. “I’m, uh… I’m going to find River.” Pointing a thumb over her shoulder, she keeps her back to the crowd, slowly backing away. Only when she’s made it just out of reach does she spin on her heel, casting one last glance over her bare shoulder. Then she’s gone.
Dammit. I’d been hopeful she’d stick around when I saw her, but the woman ran off like talking to me was the last thing she’d ever want to do. Growing up, she couldn’t wait to corner me and tell me all the new facts about galaxies and the planets she’d learned. I admit I loved those moments. Witnessing such a young person so passionate about something gave me hope that someday I’d find it too.
But she’s gone. There’s no one here to entertain me and serve as a block except me. It’s only a matter of time before someone slides onto the stool beside me, clapping me on the shoulder, thinking they’ll ease into their endless questions about roughstock by pretending to want to know about me. The tactic is dated, and it’s the part of the distribution business I’ve alwayshated most. I wanted to be out there getting my hands dirty, doing the real work and making the choices, not shaking hands.
Finally, securing my first beer, I stew with my thoughts, refusing to linger on the time passing.
An hour whistles by before Beckett shows, only gracing me with his presence for twenty minutes. Our conversation fizzles and dies the moment a dark-haired beauty slides up next to him at the bar. The two weave their way out to the dance floor, line dancing until sweat coats their skin.
Allowing my gaze to roam over the room, I spot Betty. Her waves are loose, and that broad grin she’s always worn is as bright as ever. She cackles loudly with a group of women, including River Thompson, Gray’s fiancé. No doubt they’re wasted as they attempt to dance their way through each song.
River and Betty are a mess with their locked arms as they stumble over each other’s feet. Yet, the corner of my mouth tugs high, watching it. Betty was always the life of the party. The fun one everyone wanted to be around. It shouldn’t surprise me that’s still true.
I only shake my head, chuckling as I take a swig of my beer. “Hey, Nash!” Beckett’s palm clamps down on my shoulder. “I’m going to get out of here.” That woman lingers behind him, causing relief to uncoil my shoulders. He doesn’t do this often, but it always seems to be on the nights he’s roped me into going. Mind you, he isn’t responsible for tonight, but he’d been too excited to have me here while he still licks his wounds over River. We all have someone we may never get over, and she’s his.
Thinking his departure is my ticket to leave, too, he ruins it the moment he opens his mouth again. “Betty is drunk-drunk. Can you keep an eye on her? Make sure she gets home okay?”
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
I only nod before we wrap one another in a one-armed hug, and he shuttles the woman out of the bar. The Hughes familymeans everything to me, and I’d do anything for them, but tonight I just want to go home and sleep.
Finishing off my beer, I make my way over to Betty, just as the music switches to a slow song.
“Nash!” Betty and River shout my name in unison.
I give an awkward wave as I attempt to lean down and whisper in Betty’s ear. My eyes press shut, and my features scrunch as River shouts too close to mine. “Nash, you have to dance with Betty!” Shoving the two of us together, Betty’s eyes turn to saucers, her fingers gripping my forearms so tight the woman might draw blood.
