Nash’s boots crunched against the gravel in the driveaway as he approached. Shep looked angrier the closer Nash got. But it had taken the kittens longer to feed, and that’s why Nash hadn’t made it on time to take part in a dinner he didn’t even want to attend.
“I told you to be here at eight. Sharp,” Shep growled, taking a step forward.
“My world does not revolve around you.”
Shep hesitated, telling Nash he must have looked like shit. “What’s wrong?” he finally asked.
“Have you seen Megan?”
“Yeah, she’s out back.”
Nash inhaled a long breath instead of unleashing a string of curse words. He’d been worried sick about her all day. Yeah, he knew he fucked up. Again. But there wasn’t a hope in hell he’d ever bow to the likes of Clint Harrison. And if the man was in his face, Nash would meet him nose-to-nose.
He went to climb the steps to find Megan when Shep grabbed his arm. “Hold up.”
Nash growled over his shoulder. “Not fucking now.” At Shep’s raised brows, Nash shook his head, and softened his voice. “Fuck. Sorry, that’s not meant for you.”
“I know.” Shep fixed an open button on Nash’s shirt and tucked one side of the shirt into his jeans.
Nash lifted a sole eyebrow. “Is there a reason you’re fixing my clothes?”
“Yes.” Shep took a step back and looked Nash over from head to toe. “Fix your hat. It’s crooked.”
Nash didn’t move an inch. “I’ll fix it when you tell me what in the hell is going on.”
Shep shoved his hands into the pockets of his Levi’s. That was when Nash got a good look at his older brother. New jeans. A clean, ironed white shirt. Even his hair had styling gel. “If you’d hurry your ass up and do as I ask, then we can attend my wedding.”
“What? Your wedding. Now?”
Shep nodded, giving a beaming smile. “Yup. Now.”
Fuck. Now Nash felt like not only the worst boyfriend, but the worst brother too. He took his cowboy hat off and ran a hand over his hair before placing his hat tight onto his head. “When in the hell did you plan this?”
“Last week, after I proposed.” Shep was still smiling.
“You told us you were proposing.” Nash had gone with Shep to pick up the ring after he had a custom design made. “When did you decide to skip the engagement part?”
Shep shrugged. “It was Emma’s idea.” He gave Nash a thorough once-over. “Yeah, you look good. Well, if you could erase the scowl, that might help.”
Nash strained to smile.
Shep snorted a laugh. “You look like you’re giving birth to a porcupine.”
“Then get used to the scowl.”
Shep laughed louder this time, and Nash followed him down the side of the house. When they rounded the corner, the rush of voices suddenly drifted over Nash. He recognized most of the faces there. Shep’s team from this company and their wives, plus his receptionist and her husband. Friends and family in River Rock were there. There were also people he didn’t know, whom he assumed were Emma’s parents and either more family or friends from her old life in New York City. They dressed differently. Lots of heels and flashy jewelry. The closer Nash got, the more he heard their local friends’ surprise that instead of coming to dinner, they were attending a wedding.
This was a good surprise. A definite turn around to his shit day.
White chairs had been set out in front of a garden arbor covered in bright-colored flowers. There was a harpist playing at the front. Off to the side, there was a table full of fancy food and desserts. Nash arched a brow in Shep’s direction. “This must have cost a pretty penny to put together in a week?”
Shep’s mouth twitched. “When it comes to a making your woman happy, you’re not thinking in dollar signs.” He gestured at the front row. “There’s your seat.” He turned to walk away.
Nash grabbed him and pulled him into a hard hug. “Happy for you, brother.”
When Shep leaned away, he cupped Nash’s uninjured shoulder. “Thank you for that. Now go sit before Emma comes out and murders you.” He moved toward the minster who had married Chase and Harper, standing off to the side.
Nash felt the gazes of everyone there. Harper gave him a frown as he passed her, and Chase gave him a glare. Obviously, Shep wasn’t the only one who was annoyed that he was late. He seemed to be in tip-top performance for pissing everyone off today. But then his gaze swept to the empty seat next to Chase, and to the person who sat beside that empty chair.
Megan.
She wore the same dress as when he’d left her this morning at her parents’ house, which told him she hadn’t known about the wedding either. He had no doubt she would’ve dressed up for the occasion. Her gaze was on her hands, neatly avoiding him. Her stillness was a dead giveaway she knew he was there.
When he took his seat, his mother leaned over Megan and said, “You are late, Nash Blackshaw. To your brother’s wedding.”
“Wouldn’t you know that’s what happens when you don’t know your brother is having a wedding,” he said defensively.
Ma gave him a look. “That is no excuse!” She sat back in her chair.
He sighed and turned to Megan. She still had yet to look at him. “I’ve been calling you,” he said to her softly, keeping the conversation private.
“I’ve been ignoring your phone calls,” she said, still not looking at him.
He never thought anything could truly get to him, but her avoiding eye contact made his world all wrong. He tucked a finger under her chin, and he stared into her unique eyes, such a mirror of the woman herself. The blue, icy and cold. The brown, soft and warm. She could be both women. But now as he stared into their depths, he understood why.
He made her have to protect herself. For years she’d done a good job, keeping him at a safe distance. Now, she didn’t hide the sadness and confusion she endured. Fuck, did he feel like shit. All the reasons he told himself that he was in the right to defend himself against Clint this morning didn’t seem so right anymore.
“Megan,” he said softly, his chest squeezing for air.
“Not now, Nash.” She glanced toward Shep and the minister as they took their spots under the garden arbor.
“But—”
She turned to him. Her voice and expression firm. “Tonight is about your brother and my best friend. Do not make this about us.”
Shit, she was right. He swallowed back the unease tightening his chest and sat back.
The harpist began playing a different song—a little faster and sweeter—and everyone rose, including Nash, as Emma strode out from the back door. His brother was a lucky man. She was beautiful in a long flowing gown that fitted her snugly. Her hair was in a side braid. She looked very much the Emma that Nash had grown to care about. Sweet. Kind. Stunning.
Shep smiled, looking proudly at his soon-to-be wife.
Ma had tears in her eyes. Her smile bright, her hands to her chest. Nash couldn’t help but think of his father now. How much he missed his dad. How proud he would be of Shep and Chase.
An unexpected heaviness settled over Nash while Emma strode down the aisle, holding wildflowers. His brothers’ lives were moving on. They had wives and businesses of their own. They were creating their families and establishing strong commitments. They would have made their father immensely proud.
But what had Nash done?
He’d lost his dream. Then he’d hidden from the world.
His chest hurt and a bead of sweat slid down his cheek that had nothing to do with the hot evening. He didn’t like thinking about all he had lost. He had refused to go to the dark place that stained his soul.
To get himself away from those thoughts, Nash glanced at Megan. He discovered tears in her eyes. He hoped those were happy tears for Emma. But he suspected they weren’t. Her two friends had husbands and stability. Nash never minded being the rebel in the family. That was his place, to keep the family on their toes and not take anything too serious
ly. He was never ashamed that he lived on the edge, enjoying spontaneity instead of setting down roots. But he wasn’t the man he once was. He knew that. Something had changed. He’d sensed it the day he got back to River Rock after his injury. A part of him was left back in the ring the day he hit the dirt and never recovered.
Coldness slid into his core. He reached down, taking Megan’s hand in his, suddenly desperate for her warmth. When she so easily clasped her fingers with his, giving herself to him no matter the cost to her heart, he knew his father wouldn’t be proud of the man Nash had become since the accident.
Christ. Nash wasn’t proud either.
* * *
The wedding was beautiful. Megan had watched Shep and Emma intently throughout the ceremony. God, they were so in love, so perfect for each other. They exchanged personal vows, and Megan could tell they meant every single word. She couldn’t have been happier for her friends. All of them. And for herself too. Life was changing for everyone. They were good changes. Everyone was moving in a new direction. She wanted to move in a new direction too. One that wasn’t so damn difficult.
When the ceremony was over, Shep built a bonfire. People drank and danced to the music coming out of the Bose stereo system beneath the white lights strung up between the trees. Megan stood near the fire with Harper and Emma, sipping her lemonade, wishing the entire time it was a shot of her favorite apple whiskey.
“I can’t believe you just sprung this on us,” said Harper, dragging Megan’s focus away from the crackling fire sending ambers floating toward the dark sky.
Emma finished off her sip of wine. She wore an A-line, off-the-shoulder, white tulle dress with a jeweled belt. In her hair, she had small purple flowers on one side. “It’s all your fault, really,” she said to Harper.
“My fault?” Harper gasped.
Emma nodded. “Remember a while back when your brother was getting married and it all happened so fast?” Harper’s brother and his wife, Brody and Faith, had a shotgun wedding without the pregnancy. All because Harper had intended to move to Las Vegas. Until her relationship with Chase kept her in River Rock.
Harper frowned. “Okay, yeah, I remember that.”
“You told me then that all anyone needed was the people they loved at their wedding,” Emma said with a soft smile. “I guess that stuck with me. Because after Shep proposed last week, I didn’t want to wait. I wanted to be his wife, so we only told his brothers about the engagement.” She glanced around for gossiping ears nearby, then added, “My mother doesn’t know how to do things small. The wedding would have gotten so big before I knew it, and I wanted”—her smile widened—“I wanted our wedding to be about us, without all the fuss.”
Megan wanted the exact same thing for her wedding. “I think it was the best choice for you and Shep. Suited you perfectly.”
Harper nodded and grinned. “And you’ve got really great wine.”
“The wine was definitely a priority.” Emma laughed.
The laughing suddenly ceased, and Emma and Harper glanced over Megan’s shoulder. She didn’t have to look. She knew exactly who was approaching by the rising hairs on her neck.
Nash.
When she turned to face him, he had a blanket tucked under his arm. “Excuse me, ladies,” he said, offering his arm to Megan. “I need to steal Megan away for a little bit.”
She noted the emotion in his eyes. The questions there too. Of course, he would want to talk about why she’d been avoiding him all day.
She turned to the girls, knowing they needed to talk. “I’ll be back soon.”
Nash grinned and winked. “Well, not that soon. You both know what we like to do at weddings.”
Harper and Emma burst out laughing.
Megan snorted and shoved Nash forward. “Just go.”
The daunting silence spread out between them while they strode up the hill, far away from the wedding. Nash built them a fire using wood from the forest. After that, he laid out the blanket and they sat beneath the starry sky, watching the flames flicker in the fire pit he’d made of stones.
“Are you still angry with me?” he finally asked gently, staring into the fire.
“Angry?” She mulled over that word. She finally shook her head. “No, I’m definitely not that.”
“Then why have you been ignoring me all day?”
She sighed. “I needed some time to think.”
Nash looked at her then, the orangish glow from the fire lighting up the side of his face. Emotion shone in his eyes. “Next time maybe tell me that. Hell, even text me that. Today”—his jaw clenched and unclenched—“today topped one of the worst days I’ve ever had.”
She was momentarily stunned by his words. Nash never let his guard down to show his weaknesses ever. But the pain he showed her was raw. Real. And she felt bad about that. “I’m sorry I didn’t call you back.”
He glanced back into the fire, his expression haunted. “I drove around town trying to find you.”
Though she did feel bad, she also knew she wasn’t doing either Nash or her father any favors if she didn’t expect more of them. “You can’t fight like that with my dad,” she said flat out. No miscommunication. “Why can’t you let it go? Be the bigger man?”
Nash searched her eyes for a long moment, then began poking at the fire with a stick. “I actually think we did remarkably well today.”
“Seriously?” She snorted a laugh. “You were in a screaming match with my father.”
Nash’s amused gaze slid to her. “I didn’t want to clock him one. That’s an improvement.”
Maybe in his eyes they were taking small steps forward. But Megan couldn’t deal with small steps anymore when it came to the anger. She inhaled, long and deep, staring into the warm flickers of the fire, under the blanket of stars above them. Knowing she had to, she finally admitted the thought she couldn’t run from today. “You know, everyone keeps telling me that everything is going to be okay. But when is it going to be okay? When will I see everyone’s happiness that I’m having a baby, and this is really incredible and amazing?”
Nash tucked a finger under her chin. She met his soft eyes. “Things will calm down.” He took her hand in the strength of his. “You knew this was going to cause some ripples today. And that’s what happened. But things will settle.”
But will they? kept echoing in her heart.
God, she hoped so. Though deep in her soul, a real fear arose that if she did nothing, her child would be torn between loving two men. Just like Megan had been for so long. Sure, Megan had handled that torment over the years. Well, maybe not entirely well, since she’d resorted to verbally showing her irritation toward Nash, all to pretend she wasn’t crushing on him hard. But she couldn’t fathom a child wanting to love his or her daddy and grandfather, but feeling like they had to pick between them.
Emotion tightened Megan’s throat. Sure, she wished Nash and her father could make peace. She wanted Thanksgiving dinners around the table. Christmas together. But she could cope with not having that. It was her child who shouldn’t have to.
At the very thought, tears welled in Megan’s eyes.
“Ah, Freckles.” Nash cupped her face, brushing away a fallen tear. “Don’t do that.”
“I’m sorry,” she managed to choke out.
Only sweet softness stared back at her now. “Christ. Don’t be sorry either.”
Before, frustration had led her decisions. Frustration over this stupid feud. Now, a motherly emotion she had never known before overtook everything. “I don’t know how many more ways I can say that I need you two to stop fighting each other.” More tears rushed down her face, making Nash’s face blurry. “It’s like everything calms, and people make promises, but those promises never last.”
Nash’s brows drew together. A long sigh spilled from his mouth. “You have no idea what those tears do to me.” He cupped her nape and nuzzled her neck. “It breaks me, Megan.” His mouth sealed across hers, and she decided she liked that plan too.
She wanted desperately to feel better. To be happy again. But she had more to say—more that she had realized today while she wasn’t around Nash or her father or the outside forces making all this impossible. She broke the kiss, breathless. “I want to be happy. About us. About the baby.”
He slid his hand against her growing belly. “There’s only happiness here.” Then he kissed her pulse and planted his mouth by her ear. “So let’s be happy.” She felt his grin spread across her neck. “Preferably naked and happy.”
Heat and desperation coursed through her. She grabbed his shirt then straddled him. His mouth came to hers, and in a second, he had an arm around her middle. He lowered her onto the blanket beneath them, his mouth sliding in perfect rhythm with hers. All her concerns melted away. Because that was what his kisses did. They made her forget. Even more, they made her want.
“Nash,” she whispered.
He groaned low and deep then blazed open-mouthed kisses across her pulse point. She lifted her hips and rubbed her sex against his hardened length in his Levi’s. He moaned deeper now. “Fucking hell, Megan, I need you.”
He lifted his hips slightly, getting his pants and boxer briefs down, and removed her panties before he sank in deep. She moaned against the perfection. Because here was where everything was so simple and made sense. There was no anger, only pure emotion that was raw and real and everything she needed.
She clung to him as he rode her with slow, long, deep thrusts, arching her up into him. She slid her hands across his firm ass, the muscles flexing beneath her fingers every time he drove inside her. She arched her back as his kiss turned wicked hot, deepening and demanding so much more. He growled, leaning away to tuck one leg onto his arm, and she held him tight, desperate for him to get closer.
He dropped his body against hers, but even that wasn’t close enough. She gripped his ass so hard, clinging to him.
“Goddamn it, Megan.” His voice was pure, rough masculinity and made her ache. He reached beneath her to wrap an arm around her shoulder. When his head lifted, she stared into eyes so heated that her inner walls convulsed in response.
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