Page 80 of Branded Betrayal

“What are you doing?” I ask, following him toward the barn.

“It’s feeding time, isn’t it?” He lifts an eyebrow at me over his shoulder. “I’m gonna help you and the guys take care of our legacy before the rains come.”

My heart floats up in my chest, and I want to dance and cheer.

Then my sobering reality crashes over me, squelching the glee about my brother and I finally turning a corner.

Because Blaze still looms, and so do my inconvenient and very dangerous feelings for him.

I set my laptop on the nightstand before falling back against the pillows with a deep sigh.

Nash is so good at this ranching thing. He might not be in touch with laws and financing, but he knows his way around a ranch. He understands the animals and what they need. He can do just about anything out here, from equipment repairs to milking the cattle. He doesn’t need Google or YouTube. He just . . . gets it. It’s in his blood.

His blood. Not mine. And those times when Nash shows up to help out, it makes me feel like repairing our relationship might actually lead to working together in some way. Like maybe we can carry on the family legacy together.

Of course, there’s always that giant-ass elephant in the room.

The elephant named Blaze.

I wonder if Nash is ever going to forgive me for that.

My biggest error in judgment to date.

“Damn him.” I scrape a hand down the front of my face. “And damn me.”

I settle into the plush mattress and pull the comforter over my head. It smells faintly of lavender because I used one of the sachets in the wash earlier this week. It helps me sleep, keeps me calm. Makes me think of things other than the one man I can never have but refuse to give up on.

Which makes me think of his demanding hands, his hungry lips, and his—

I squeeze my eyes and legs shut to stop the onslaught of tingles dancing over my prickled skin.

I really need to stop replaying our afternoon sex fest. But my body is on a completely different page than my mind. I slam a pillow over my face.

“No, I am absolutely not taking out the Pink Panther,” I yell into the sweet-smelling pillowcase.

My eyes fly open at the faint knock on the front door.

Nash has a key. So, who . . . ?

I pull on my robe and jog down the stairs. My heart leaps into my throat as I peer through the pane of glass next to the door.

“He’s a self-centered asshole tangled up in some seedy shit, shit that’ll blow right back onto you if you don’t stay away from him.”

I should turn my back on the door and walk upstairs. I should get back into my bed and pull the covers over my head.

I should do so many things right now . . .

But instead, I do the very thing I shouldn’t and open the door.

“How’s Wyatt?” I ask. Because for as much as I despise Blaze right now, Wyatt is my friend, and while I’ve been stewing over Blaze and his complete and utter disregard for me, I’ve also been thinking about Wyatt and hoping he’s okay. So I ask because I care. About Wyatt.

Period.

Blaze takes off his hat. His eyes are heavy and dark, shoulders slumped. “He’s gonna be okay. He woke up around dinner. I stayed with him for a while.”

I give a swift nod. “Good. I’m glad to hear that. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m headed back to bed because I can’t imagine any other reason why you’d be here right now other than to let me know Wyatt is going to be fine.”

My heart explodes against my chest as I start to close the door.