But now it’s different.
There’s heartbreak nearly drowning out her longing stare. A stare I never realized I’ve known since the first night I stayed over at her house back in high school.
The Hughes house quickly became our team gathering spot when Beckett made the football team. It was summer training, and Mrs. Hughes offered to host the team’s sleepover. They grilled us enough food to feed an army and showered us with snacks. It was one of the most fun nights I had in high school.
From as young as I can remember, I’ve always woken up in the middle of the night in search of water. That’s when I found her outside, just staring up at the sky. It wasn’t something I lingeredover then. The cute little ten-year-old was tracing the stars with her finger. An act so innocent it made me smile.
“You okay?”I’d asked.
She only nodded, but didn’t stop her fingers moving through the air, that goofy grin lighting up her face.“I always come out here when the moon is gone. It’s when I can see the stars best.”
I’d left her there, crept back into the house, grabbed a glass of water, and then shimmied back into my sleeping bag. The next morning was the first time she looked at me like there were stars in her eyes. A kiddy crush. We’ve all had one.
I just never knew it stuck around for twenty-three years.
“Might want to save some of that energy for wrangling calves,” Gray chuckles, his shadow looming over me with his hands on his hips.
“Mornin’ to you too,” I grunt, pumping out another set of twenty before slowly climbing to my feet.
I’m completely wiped. Every bit of energy I had is gone. A necessary evil, so I could stop thinking about that woman still asleep in her room inside the Miller house.
“You wanna talk about it?” Gray leans against my truck, crossing his arms over his chest.
Wiping sweat from my forehead with the back of my hand, I stalk toward the house. “Nope. Let me change, and we can get started.”
The house is quiet when I enter. No matter how I try to stifle my movements, rifling through my overnight bag for clothing and my toiletries case is like a booming chorus of sound.
The full bath on the first floor is right beside Betty’s room. I can only hope she sleeps like the dead; the last thing I want to do is wake her. If she looks at me with those pleading brown eyes again, I won’t be able to resist her.
Fuck, I’m barely hanging on now. Fantasies of her hold me at their mercy as they once again float through my head. So much for punishing it out of my system.
Slipping through the bathroom door, I close it with the softest click. My eyes stay glued to the natural plank of wood, each step carrying me further away. I refuse to turn my back toward it as if she’s going to burst through the door at any moment.
And do what, Nash? You broke her heart. She isn’t going to fuck you.
Minutes pass of staring straight ahead before I release a ragged sigh. Dropping my shit on the side table, I scrub my hands over my face. The muscles in my neck seem to revolt as I slowly lift my gaze before stumbling back several feet.
“What the hell are you doing in here?” Betty snaps, moving out of the alcove where the Jack and Jill sinks sit.
My eyes dart around the room as if the walls hold the answer to her question. I’m wondering if they remodeled the bathroom now. The toilet also has its own alcove, and the shower is on the opposite wall, with a large tub serving as the background when you’re facing the mirror.
“I—I, uh, was showering.”
“Can you wait until I’m done or go upstairs?” For the first time, she stares at me like she actually wants me gone. And, fuck do I hate that.
“Yeah. ‘Course.” But I don’t move, staring at her bare legs on display beneath a Cole County High football t-shirt. A shirt she must have had from when Beckett was on the team.
“Nash!” she snaps. “Get out.” Her eyes meet mine. “Please.”
“I’m sorry,” I say, scooping up my things and rushing out of the bathroom. Jogging up the stairs two at a time, I can’t understand why my interaction with Betty rattles me. I promised nothing would be awkward, and that’s exactly what it’s been. I fucking hate it.
In less than ten minutes, I’m showered and changed only to find Gray chatting with one of the ranch hands, still leaning against my truck.
Without a word, the three of us make our way out to the fields. The more distance we put between us and the Miller house, the more my focus locks into place. Gray and Beau are efficient as they walk me through the pedigrees for the calves that the Garrisons asked me to evaluate. Several have what we’d consider strong bloodlines, the perfect mix for training as rodeo competitors.
By the time we’re finished, all I want to do is curl up on that uncomfortable couch again and sleep for a year. I’d skipped coffee this morning, eager to get out of the house. It was as if being in her vicinity wound me up to the point I couldn’t breathe. A response I am stuck wracking my brain trying to understand. I don’t see her that way. There’s no chance of a relationship or anything between us, so why do I care so damn much?
There should be a way to explain it to her, but I can’t find the words. No matter how attractive she might be to me, we won’t work. Betty is kind, sweet, and young. She doesn’t want a man like me. She just doesn’t know that yet.
