The past few days have been an absolute dream. My muscles have never been so deliciously sore. Weights and sex might be my favorite combination for the start of each day. More importantly, getting to witness this open-door version of Nash and having him doting on me and holding me was everything I’ve ever wanted.
Still, our past hovers like a dark cloud. It’s impossible not to wait for the other shoe to drop. We’d found our island before, only for him to disappear on me. I understand there were reasons, but I can’t handle a fourth time, especially not now that we’ve had sex, not now that he’s said all the things I’ve always wanted to hear from him.
Tossing my suitcase onto the bed, I’m quick to unpack, throwing the clothes in the washer and my toiletries back in the bathroom.
Unfortunately, I’ve been called in to work at the bar tonight, so I don’t have a lot of downtime. Wednesdays are always mid-week inventory before the weekend rolls around, which means I won’t be out of there before three in the morning.
The buzz of my phone has me spinning in a circle, attempting to find where I’d left the blasted device. Finally spotting it under the corner of my open suitcase, I chew my inner lip, reading the text.
River:Good? Bad?
I hadn’t talked to her much since she and Gray left Sunday morning. We agreed that I would deliver every detail when I returned, but part of me wants to keep these past few days with Nash between us just a little longer.
Me:Very good!
River:Good. I can tell Fester to stand down.
Letting out the most unladylike laugh, I place my phone on the dresser, continuing to unpack my suitcase before shoving it in the closet.
My phone buzzes again, my head shaking, knowing River is going to be relentless until we have dinner tomorrow night.
But my breath hitches when I see the name on my screen.
Nash:I miss you already. Mom is doing much better. I’m going to stay here until 4 and then I’ll swing by to pick you up.
Me:I’m glad. Tell your parents hi for me.
Me:I’m working at the bar tonight. You can see me tomorrow.
Nash:I’ll pick you up at 4. Don’t let me get there and you’re already gone.
Me:You’re impossible.
Nash:No I’m yours.
Crushing my phone to my chest, those teenage butterflies fill my stomach.
“This is it, Betty,” I say to no one, spinning in my spot before collapsing backward onto the mattress.
Excitement for the future courses through me, but that tiny seed of doubt lingers. How long will it last?
“Joe, this is the last one.” I flash a wide grin at my favorite regular. He’s been working at Boulder Ranch since before I was born. How the man continues to move the way he does is beyond me. Like Old Man Wilber, he’s doing things he has no business doing at his age, but he also has no one left to care for him. He had no children, and his wife died years ago. No one has the heart to make him retire.
He only grunts, downing half his mug of beer in a few gulps. “You’re no fun.” Rolling my eyes, I swat at him with my towel. “Right, Donovan? She ain’t no fun!”
Nash grins from his spot at the end of the bar. As promised, he was standing at my front door at two minutes to four. There was no dissuading him from driving me to the Thirsty Pony or telling him to leave, and I’d catch a cab home. He wasn’t leaving and has stayed parked on that bar stool watching me and every man who has spoken to me.
He’d started with a beer, then had a second before switching to water, and it’s only eight.
“My girl is a lot of fun,” Nash winks before nodding his chin toward Joe.
“Your girl, huh? Her daddy know you’re robbin’ the cradle?”
“Joe,” I scold, swatting him again. “I’m thirty-three.”
“So. That Donovan boy could be your daddy.” I burst out laughing as he continues to mumble to himself when I place a glass of water in front of him.
“Your math is a little off, but thank you for the concern.”
