by Soraya Lane
“Nothing. Come on; let’s get out of here.”
Nate walked with them out into the lot, the outside temperature cooler than it had been when they’d arrived. It was cold now, the sky almost black.
“I’m gonna miss him,” Nate said, to himself but to his brothers, too. “There’s not a day that’ll go by that I won’t miss him.”
Ryder and Chase both nodded, standing nearby.
“Now let’s head home and crack a bottle of his favorite whiskey,” Nate announced. “Gone but not forgotten, right?”
“Yep, here’s to Wild Turkey, straight up over ice,” Ryder agreed.
Chase smiled. “Hey, we might not have Granddad, but we have you, Nate. One look into your eyes, or the way you hold yourself when you’re doing business, and it’s like he’s with us anyway.”
Nate cleared his throat, wishing to hell everyone wasn’t suddenly telling him how like his grandfather he was. Maybe he was; maybe he wasn’t--either way, he just wanted to get home and drink enough to dull the pain a little. If that was even possible.
Chapter 17
Faith ran her hands over the fabric of her skirt, more used to being in jeans than pencil skirts that hugged her body tight and made it impossible to take more than a small step. She’d gone out and bought a new outfit to wear to Clay King’s funeral, it only seemed right to make an effort for a man that had been as good as a legend for longer than she could remember, but it was Nate she was all sweaty palmed over seeing. In all honesty, she’d come for him, but the suffocating feeling of waiting for the moment he came near was almost unbearable.
“You okay?”
She nodded and smiled as Sam squeezed her hand, leaning in close to her. “Fine, thanks. I’m just hot.” It was the truth. She had a silk cami on underneath her jacket, and the fact that they were outside in the sun with her wearing all black wasn’t exactly sensible.
“We can go on over and take a seat if you want,” Sam suggested, gesturing to the rows of white chairs beneath a huge tent with no sides.
She shook her head, more content to swelter in her suit than risk running into Nate or his brothers. She wanted them to know she’d been here, but the idea of seeing Nate again, being up close and personal with him for even a moment, wasn’t something she’d ever be prepared for. Faith sighed. She might have been the one to walk away from him, but it didn’t meant she didn’t miss him like crazy still.
“Hey, Faith.”
Faith hadn’t realized she’d been holding her breath until she let it go. She turned and came face-to-face with Chloe.
“Hey,” she replied. “How are you holding up?”
Chloe blinked away visible tears. “Okay. It’s just hard seeing the guys so cut up.”
Neither of them had said Nate’s name, but it was hanging between them, and Faith decided she’d rather be the one to bring it up than wait for Chloe.
“And Nate?” Faith asked, wishing her brother wasn’t standing right beside her, listening to the entire conversation. “How’s he been?”
“Not bad, considering.” The deep, commanding voice that rang out behind her made every tiny hair on her body stand on end, her skin covered in goosebumps. She swallowed, took a deep breath, and slowly turned.
“I’m sorry for your loss, Nate,” she managed, meeting his gaze head-on and suddenly wishing she hadn’t come at all. His dark eyes were stormy, slightly bloodshot, his dark hair pushed completely off his face. It was longer than it had been when she’d been with him, slightly unruly now even though he was obviously trying his best to tame it today.
“Thanks for coming,” he said, eyes never leaving hers as he spoke, his voice powerful even though he was in pain. “You too, Sam,” he continued, turning to her brother and holding out his hand. “And thanks for coming by the other day. It was good to see a friendly face after the afternoon I’d had.”
Sam shook his hand, patted him on the back, and said a few words. Faith could have listened, was standing right beside them, but all she could think about was Nate. About the fact that he was standing so close, that this big, incredible man was less than two feet from her, a man she’d voluntarily walked away from because she was so damn scared of falling for him, when what she should have done was hold him close and try to never let him go.
“Faith?”
Her head snapped up, suddenly tuning into the conversation when she heard her name.
“I’m sorry?”
“Nate wants a word with you.” Sam looked between them. “In private.”
Damn it! Why hadn’t she stayed tuned into what they were saying? “How about you, ah, go get us a couple of seats and I’ll join you in a second.”
Sam stared at her long and hard before nodding and walking away. Chloe had disappeared without her even realizing it, and suddenly it was just the two of them. She could only watch Sam walk away for so long before she had to change the angle of her body and face him.
“Nate . . .”
“Faith . . .”
They both laughed at the same time, only instead of keeping his distance like she had been, Nate reached for her hand.
“You go first,” he muttered, staring into her eyes and rubbing his thumb across her palm, making her go all kinds of crazy at the direct skin-to-skin contact.
Faith’s mouth was dry, all thoughts gone from her head. She hardly even remembered exactly what she’d wanted to say, except for the fact that . . . what? That she shouldn’t have left him? That she was in love with him? That she couldn’t be with him even if she wanted to be?
When she didn’t say anything, he smiled. “How about I go first, then?”
Faith nodded, wishing he wasn’t touching her.
“I want to take you somewhere.”
She was confused. “Right now?”
“No, on Friday. I need you to take the day off, and I’ll come and get you first thing.”
She frowned the moment he mentioned her taking time off. “Nate, I can’t. This job means too much to me.”
His smile was too smug, his gaze too intense. “I’m sure your boss won’t mind you spending the day with your biggest client.”
“Biggest client?” she asked, confused.
“I’m intending coming in and making a significant purchase tomorrow. I don’t care what so long as my art consultant can assure me that it’s a good investment. Then I plan on telling your boss that I’d like to spend the day showing you my private collection and discussing future”--he grinned--“acquisitions.”
Heat traveled through Faith’s body, the blush hitting her cheeks before she could try to stop it. “Nate, I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“It’s a damn fine idea,” he as good as growled. “I have a funeral to deal with and my granddad to lay to rest, and aside from running King Enterprises I only care about one thing.”
Her hand was shaking as she retrieved it, not wanting Nate to keep hold of her. “Nate, no. It’s not the right thing to do.”
“Neither was you leaving me.”
“Touché.”
They both stayed silent, paused.
“There are so many reasons why we shouldn’t be together, Nate,” she murmured. “Which means that we’re better not tempting fate.”
“I’m not like any other man you’ve known before, Faith.”
She paused, body dead still. “Is that a threat?”
He was stone-faced for a moment before leaning in close to her, the scent of his cologne filling her nostrils, his body blocking out everything else.
“No,” he said, stroking a hand down her arm, slowly. “But I’m going to prove to you exactly why we should be together, and when I’m finished . . .”
She gulped. Waiting. “What?”
“Let’s just say that I’m not good at taking no for an answer, and I don’t ever intend letting you walk out of my life that easily ever again.”
Faith had hardly moved an inch since she’d sat down. From where they were sitting, a few rows back from the
front, she could see the back of Nate’s dark hair. Her fingers were betraying her by fidgeting, remembering what it was like to be lazy and content in bed with him, how it felt to run her fingertips through his thick hair.
The minister stopped talking then, leading them all in prayer, which at least forced her to dip her head for a moment and concentrate on what he was saying. And then he was announcing Clay’s eldest grandson to say a few words. Faith gulped. Instead of remembering the man she was here to pay respects to, she couldn’t stop thinking about the times she’d had on the property with Nate. Times they’d done their best to keep secret, which had made it all the more fun.
She straightened, noticed the way her brother shifted when Nate strode to the microphone and smiled at everyone seated before him. Sam loved Nate, they’d been best friends since Little League days, but she knew her brother was still uncomfortable with what he thought had happened between her and Nate. What had happened between them.
“Clay King was a man like no other,” Nate began, his deep, commanding voice so like his grandfather’s. “I’m proud to call him my granddad, or dad really, as he brought us up with Grams as if they were our true parents after my mom died.”
Faith noticed that he hadn’t mentioned his father, and she doubted he would. Nate wasn’t exactly the forgiving type, and he’d made it clear that he had no love for the man who’d abandoned them.
“My granddad taught the three of us a lot of things, too many things to share today, but the one that always stands out is that we had to find what we were passionate about.” Nate’s voice turned husky, cracking slightly until he cleared his throat. “I think you all know that I was gunning to follow in his footsteps since I was a kid, and we’ve all found our own way, but he also told us that once we found out what we wanted, never to take no for an answer.” Nate’s eyes suddenly found hers, his gaze strong and unwavering, leaving her struggling to breathe. “I’m fortunate to have told Granddad how much I loved him, and I fought to prove myself to him every damn day while he was alive, and Granddad, if you can hear me up there, nothing’s gonna change. Chase and Ryder made him beyond proud when they met their gorgeous wives and finally brought some permanent female company to the ranch, and I’m only sorry that the old fella didn’t get to meet my future wife, too.”
Wife? If she’d been breathless before then she was completely out of air now. Nate had always said that he’d never marry, that he had zero interest in settling down, and now he was talking to an entire crowd of people—friends, acquaintances, business contacts, and his family—about Clay missing out on meeting his future wife?
“I’d like to thank you all for coming, and invite you to stay on and celebrate Clay’s life with us. We will be attending a private burial immediately after the service concludes, and then Granddad’s favorite whiskey will be flowing like water until dark.”
Faith gulped, watching Nate cross back to his seat, so confident in everything he did. Even emotional over losing his grandfather, he’d still managed to address a couple hundred people and talk to them as if he knew every single one of them personally. But personally, she was still stuck on the “wife” comment.
They’d already heard from Chase about Clay’s life, how he inherited King Ranch and turned an already successful business into an empire like no other in Texas, and after a few more words from the minister, along with a final prayer, the service was concluded.
The three brothers walked past them slowly, with a few other men, carrying Clay’s coffin down the center of the chairs. Nate’s jaw looked like it was carved from stone, tears glistening in his eyes as he passed her. No one made a sound as the men escorted one of the greatest men in Texas into the long black car, the crowd folding in behind them as they all walked back out into the bright southern sunshine.
“I’m going to head off now,” Faith told Sam, leaning in close to him.
“You’re not going to stay for a drink? Pay your respects?” Sam asked, frowning.
“It’s complicated,” she said, squeezing his hand. “I just don’t feel like I should be here right now.”
“Because of Nate?” Sam asked, looking irritated.
“Yes,” she told him, not wanting to lie. “But it’s not what you think.”
“I was still thinking that he’d damn well broken your heart,” Sam muttered. “Just like I warned you would happen. But now I’m not so sure.”
She tried to act like discussing her love life with Sam was the most natural thing in the world. “He didn’t break my heart. We just . . .”
“He’s in love with you, isn’t he? That speech about his future wife . . .”
“Just leave it, Sam. I need to go.”
He didn’t try to stop her and she didn’t waste time. Thank god she’d brought her own car. Faith moved silently through the crowd, smiling and nodding as she passed people she knew, until a hand closed over her wrist and stopped her from moving another step.
“You’re leaving already?”
She tried to snatch her hand back, but it didn’t work. Instead Nate slowly released his grip, so slowly that she had to remain almost immobile the entire time.
“Nate, I need to go.”
“Is there anything I can do to change your mind?” he asked, moving closer, his body making hers ache for all kinds of things that it couldn’t have.
She stared at his lips, at the gentle curve of his mouth as he smiled. His eyes were still damp, unshed tears ready to be blinked away if they weren’t going to fall.
“You shouldn’t hold them back,” she said, because it was the only thing she could think of to say. “Your tears,” Faith clarified when he looked puzzled.
“I’m not afraid to cry,” Nate told her, reaching out and touching her hair, his thumb and forefinger gently caressing a strand before he let go.
But I’m afraid of you. They were the words she wanted to say, needed to say, but they wouldn’t come out. Instead she just walked a step closer to him, stood on tiptoe, and pressed a kiss to his cheek, her lips betraying her and staying against his skin a little too long.
“Good-bye, Nate.”
His smile was a confusing combination of sad and warm. “I’ll be by at nine am to collect you on Friday.”
She folded her arms across her chest. “You don’t even know where I live.”
“Yes, I do,” he said, winking and sending a wave of desire through every inch of her body. “You can run from me, darlin’, but you sure as hell can’t hide.”
It should have sounded like a threat, but it didn’t. Because if she put her foot down and told him to back the hell off, he would. Only she wasn’t ready to say good-bye to him forever, not without seeing what he had planned first. She could have all the willpower and good intentions in the world, but walking away from him completely was never going to be easy. Not in a million years.
“I think we have a problem.”
Nate knocked back the last of his whiskey and set down his glass. Sam was still nursing his, eyes trained on Nate as they stood in Clay’s former library. Nate had taken the place over once his granddad had officially asked him to start running their businesses, but nothing about the décor or even the books themselves had changed. The dark timber panels and textured Ralph Lauren wallpaper made it feel like it could have been the early 1900s still, like something straight from the days of Boardwalk Empire, Clay’s favorite TV show. And it was just the way Nate liked it. Different from the rest of the house, an escape where he could focus on work and drink some whiskey, read a book if he wanted to with no distractions, lamps lit instead of overhead lights. He’d come in here with Chase and Ryder to privately toast their granddad now he’d been lowered into the ground in the private King cemetery on the land, and Sam had wandered in to talk to Nate, away from the large crowd gathered throughout the rest of the ground floor of the house.
“Nate?”
“Yeah, I heard you,” he said, reaching for the decanter and pouring more whiskey into his glass. “And I t
ake it we’re talking about your sister?”
Sam dropped into the worn brown leather sofa, taking another sip of his drink. “I don’t want to be an asshole bringing this up today, Nate. You know I love you, I’d do anything for you, but this stuff with Faith is messing with my head.”
Nate sighed and sat in the sofa opposite, kicking one of his legs up to rest on the other, boot to his knee. “I screwed up,” he admitted. “I made you a promise that I’d stay away from her, which I damn well did for years, and then when she arrived on my doorstep that day it didn’t take long before I--”
Sam made a face and held up his hand. “Stop. I don’t want to hear the details.”
Nate studied his friend, pleased that they were at least discussing Faith in a civilized manner instead of a punch-up. “I didn’t ever want to hurt her, Sam. I still don’t.”
Sam finished his drink and stood up to pour another. “You love her, don’t you?” he asked, without turning, his back still to Nate.
Nate blew out a breath. “You want the truth?”
Sam sat down again, his face hard to read. “Yeah, I want the truth. No bullshit. Tell me like it is.”
“Yeah, I do love her, Sam. I love your sister and there’s not a damn thing I can do about it.”
Sam looked like he was in pain, just talking about his little sister romantically killing him. “So why the hell aren’t you together, and why is she so damn miserable? She saw you today and she fell apart.”
“It’s complicated.”
“That’s what she told me. But I’ve known you long enough to know that women are pretty black-and-white where you’re concerned.”
Nate laughed. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
Sam pulled a face. “Don’t act all Mr. Innocent with me. You sleep with a woman until you’re bored, or you think she’s starting to get clingy. You make it clear from the start that you’re not looking for serious, but every woman thinks she’s going to be the one to change you; then you break their hearts even though you told them all along that you had nothing more than a good time to give them.”