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“Huge. Goes on for miles. My brothers can tell you the exact acreage, but I don’t recommend asking.”

“How many brothers do you have?”

She laughs like I’m joking, but it quickly fades. “Oh, right, you’re serious. Well, Bass is the oldest. Then there’s Vince and Nico. And Dario, he was older than Bass, but he died.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.” Bass never mentioned an older brother, but we’re literal strangers, and I guess he never found the opportunity to talk about it. Another reminder of how weird this is. “Your mom’s name is Ottavia, right? And what about your dad?”

“He died too.” She waves my embarrassed apology away. “It’s okay, seriously, better you ask now. Want me to give you the whole family history?”

“Maybe the quick version. I don’t think I can take much new information in right now, honestly.”

While she talks, Ottavia brings coffee. I gaze out at the distance and wonder how far it is to the tree line, how far it would be to the nearest town, if anyone would pick up a stray girl on the side of the road, how long it would be before Bass comes to get me, or if my uncle would catch me first.

I notice myself rubbing my thumb over the engagement ring and stop. Every time I think about Bass, I end up touching it, like I’m reminding myself about him. I want to hate him, I really do, but there was that moment at my house out in the yard when he gave me that money, and I thought he was being a bastard. I’m not used to the men in my life being kind. I was offended at first, but he was trying to be sweet in his own way.

And it got to me. Shit, I hate it, but it really did. Giving me that money back meant something.

It’s like he’s saying he trusts me.

Nobody in my family has ever done that before.

I’ve always been the weird one. The girl who tried to run away and got caught. The worthless daughter hidden away in that hotel because there’s nowhere better for me.

What am I going to be now? Nothing more than Bass’s wife?

Would that be so terrible?

Lia seems nice and this ranch is beautiful.

Only every time I try to imagine myself as happy with him, I keep slamming up against a simple brick wall: I didn’t choose this.

It’d be different if I did. I could let go of all my baggage and try to be happy.

Instead, this is another choice forced on me.

Lia finishes talking about her family’s overarching history (gangsters, ranchers, thieves, killers, the usual) and leans back in her seat, tucking her legs under her. She gives me a forced smile.

“Now I guess we should talk about the wedding, right?”

“Right. Probably.” I look down at my coffee. “Do we have to?”

Lia shifts uncomfortably. “You don’t want this. Does it help if Bass doesn’t either? God, my brother’s such an idiot, but he means well.”

“It’s not his fault,” I say quickly, and I have no idea why I’m defending him or if I actually believe that.

“The thing is, he wouldn’t let anyone else do it, you know? Your uncle offered to let him choose anyone else in our family, but he insisted it had to be him. That’s typical Bass.”

I look up sharply in surprise. “Wait, hold on. He volunteered?”

“Oh yeah, you didn’t know that? Bass is such an overprotective psycho. You’ll find out. I have, like, six guards at school. They stalk me like I’m a freaking presidential daughter or something. It’s mortifying.”

I try to picture anyone willingly doing this and failing miserably. “You’re saying he could’ve had someone else take his position… but he volunteered anyway?”

“Don’t make it sound too noble. He’s always doing stuff like that.” She leans forward, her smile vanishing as she puts a hand on my knee. “I’m sorry, you know. For what it’s worth, you can always come to me if Bass is being a dick. I know how to make him chill out.”

“Thanks,” I say softly, and the offer is touching, but it doesn’t do much to melt the ice around my heart.

But this isn’t Lia’s fault and she’s doing her best to be kind, which I genuinely appreciate. It’s strange though, talking openly about this upcoming marriage like it’s a death sentence with my future sister-in-law.