“What?” I looked down, jaw locked, flexing my fingers at my side.
“I think you know. But you don’t want me to say it.”
He pushed off the doorframe and pointed a finger at me.
“Don’t do anything that makes Gunner want to punch you in the nuts. She’s incredible at her job, and if he loses her, he’s going to be a whole new level of pissed.”
“Why do you both always think I’m the one who’s going to fuck things up?”
The words came out fast, louder than I meant. The porch soaked up the heat of it.
Nash stepped forward and caught my forearm.
“That’s not what we think.”
I yanked my arm back, frustration buzzing under my skin. “Yes, it is. You think I’m just some fuckboy who wrecks hearts and treats women like disposable things.”
“No.” His voice was low, clear. Certain. “That’s not true. We know how big your heart is, Wild.” He moved closer. His gaze locked to mine, all steady gravity. “We know how much love you have in that soul of yours.”
He squeezed my shoulder, grounding me.
“I don’t think you’ll breakherheart. I worry she might breakyours.”
I swallowed, hard. The porch, the whole house, was too quiet.
“Mom left a hole in all of us,” he said. “But you… between her death and Dad being a complete dick? It blew you wide open. And I just want you to protect what’s left. Whatever’s still tender.”
He stepped back, giving me space again.
“And if she hurts you…” he added, “Gunner’s going to want to fire her. Which would suck. But I’ll support it. Then Gunner will punch you in the nuts.”
Classic Nash, blunt, honest, and already walking away.
“Come on, Dorcas,” he called with a whistle. “Let’s go, sweetness.”
Dorcas stretched, yawned, then padded after him like she was the most innocent thing on earth. Tail wagging. Tongue lolling.
I stood there, alone with the silence and the ache that came with it. And maybe, just maybe…my brother was right. If Nash could see it, if he knew what Tally meant to me maybe I wasn’t as lost as I thought. But Tallulah Brown had the power to break me, and I didn’t know if I could stop her.
Chapter 11
Stronger – Britney Spears
Tally
Needles of anger stabbed beneath my skin, sharp and hot, leaving it red raw. The reason why reeked of too much cologne, sharp and synthetic, like citrus left too long in the sun, clawing at the back of my throat and squeaking with every smug step in his ridiculous shoes.
“What do you want, Declan?” Maybe if I kept walking, he’d vanish. Maybe if I wished hard enough, he’d go up in a puff of smoke.
“We need to talk, Tallulah.”
The clip, clip, clip of him trailing behind me was maddening. Like a waspthat refused to buzz off, no matter how many times you waved it away. My grandma once swore if you asked a wasp nicely, it would leave you alone. Big fail Grandma, especially with this little sucker.
“Just go away, Declan. Sign the damn papers and fuck off.”
“Hey—” He grabbed my arm, and it was like being electrocuted as heat flared across my skin, nerves sparking with instinctive revulsion. Nothing like when Wilder touched me. God, not even close. Declan’s hand didn’t send sparks through my bloodstream or summon butterflies in my stomach. His touch didn’t whisper across my skin, making it burn in all the right places.
“Get your hands off me.” I stared at his grip, daring it to disappear.
