My Cowboy's Second Chance Surprise (Billionaire Ranch Brothers Book 1)

by Hanna Hart

  “I am right about a lot of things,” he said with a smirk.

  If Sophia was surprised to see Nash at her door the first time, she was floored to see him return.

  She’d first met Nash when she was nineteen and in college for marketing. He was in school for business, a simple two-year course that he was nearly finished by the time they had met.

  Both of them lived on campus, and it just so happened that Nash had caught her sneaking her dog, Rafael, into the strict no-dogs-allowed dorm room.

  The two had never met before, nor had she ever really seen him around the school, so she was startled when he came up to her door and asked, “Whatcha got goin' on in there?”

  “Nothing,” she said quickly, pulling the door shut behind her.

  Nash smiled, and she was overwhelmed by his good looks. He had dark hair and broad shoulders, but more than that, there was a raw sex appeal about him that she hadn't seen in many men.

  “Nothing wouldn't happen to have four legs and a wagging tail, would it? Because you know that's frowned upon in student housing,” he flirted.

  “And who are you?” she asked, leaning back against her door. “Property manager? RA?”

  “Just a friendly face, trying to prevent you from getting fined,” he said.

  Sophia offered him innocent doe-eyes and a rolling shrug as she said, “I don't have a dog.”

  “And you're a good liar, too,” he laughed, nodding toward her door. “But I don't believe you.”

  Sophia's expression fell. She'd been caught. The thing was, she had only had Rafael for a few days, but her friend's mom had a golden retriever who had mated with a poodle and the goldendoodle puppies were free and way too cute to pass up.

  Sophia offered the stranger a pleading look. “Well then...” she sighed and glanced down both sides of the hallway to make sure the coast was clear before opening her door and letting him inside. “I sure hope you can keep a secret.”

  The curly-haired, apricot ball of fluff bounded off of her bed and ran up to the man and pawed his legs.

  “Oh, I can keep a secret just fine,” he grinned, kneeling to pat the pup. “I'm Nash, by the way.”

  “Sophia,” she said. “Sophia Sawyer.”

  From that day forward, the two were inseparable, even going back and forth taking care of Rafael when the other was in class.

  They flirted for years, but never kissed and never went on dates. Not official ones, anyway. Sure, they went out to dinner, had sleepovers, cuddled close out in public and in private, but every time he went to kiss her, something in Sophia made her pull away. She was coy about it, flirtatious. She liked Nash, she found him wildly attractive, and she knew her heart would break if she saw him with someone else, but she would never let things get serious enough for him to ask her out.

  Nash was her best friend. He was her partner in crime. He knew her from the inside out, and she needed him there with her every day.

  One summer after they both graduated, he told her he would be leaving on a business trip, visiting different ranches to examine how they work and to potentially buy one of them. The trip was entirely planned by his father and older brother, both of whom were hoping Nash would take on a new ranch soon.

  “I can't believe you're going across the states for three months. That's like forever,” she whined.

  Nash was leaving the next day and had come to spend that Monday with Sophia. They didn't go out to eat, didn't have a going away party or watch movies. Instead, they picked an incredibly difficult looking recipe to cook together, ate, and talked while doing a puzzle on her living room table. She joked that they were in their eighties, then said she loved that about them.

  With her and Nash, it didn't matter what they were doing. They didn't need anything spectacular to have fun with. They loved working with their hands, loved riding horses, but more than anything, they just loved talking together.

  “It's only three months,” he said as he slipped his shoes on.

  The two of them stood in her small hallway, and Nash aimed his key fob out the window, remote starting his car.

  “And I'll be here, doing marketing for a dog food company,” she sighed.

  “Which you love!”

  Sophia pouted and shook her head. “They pay in dog food,” she said, leaning her whole body against the wall in dramatic fashion.

  Nash laughed and shook his head. “They don't pay in dog food, and even if they did, that means you'll be spoiling Rafael.”

  “What am I supposed to do without you?” she asked again. “I'm going to be so bored. I'm only going to have Rafael to talk to.”

  “And Lauren,” he interjected, but she ignored him.

  “And soon I'll only know how to speak dog, and it's going to be all your fault!” she said, pushing him lightly into the door and then wrapping her arms around him.

  She tilted her head back to look up at him. Nash smiled, and his deep blue eyes flicked back and forth from hers. “Well,” he began unsurely. “You don't have to live in doggy solitude, you know?”

  She blinked. “What do you mean?”

  Nash's smile dropped, and something unspoken passed between them. She knew he was going to tell her how he felt about her, and she desperately wished that he wouldn't. Nothing good ever came from admission of affection—not in her experience.

  “Soph,” he began quietly, reaching a hand up to touch her cheek.

  She smacked it playfully and backed away from him. “Don't,” she said, her eyes avoiding his gaze.

  “Sophia,” he repeated.

  “Forget it!” she said.

  Nash set his jaw. She'd put him off so many times in the past and she knew he wouldn't be silenced this time. Sophia thinned her lips and watched his mouth as he insisted, “We have to have this one out, Soph. We have to.”

  “I really, really, really don't want to,” she pleaded, but he was already talking.

  “I like you,” he said.

  She nodded. “I know.”

  “Scratch that,” he said. “I don't like you.”

  Sophia cocked a curious brow. “Oh?”

  “I love you,” he corrected, and his smile was somewhere between proud and fed up. “I have loved you since the moment I saw that dog on your bed on campus, and I know you love me too, but you're afraid to commit, and I get that, and it's been fine, but I have waited and waited and now's the time. It's time to have this out, Soph.”

  Sophia exhaled slowly, trying to steady herself. With a shrug, she said, “I don't feel that way about you, Nash.”

  “Yes, you do,” he insisted, and it made her laugh.

  “No, I don't.”

  He frowned. “Come with me on my trip.”

  “For three months?”

  Nash nodded and ran a hand through his hair. “Yes.”

  She didn't immediately say no. A trip with Nash sounded amazing, but with everything he just said, she knew he would be expecting more from her than a simple yes.

  “What about Rafael?” she asked, looking into her living room where her dog was laying, his ears now perked up from hearing his name.

  “Bring him,” Nash offered. “Or get your uncle to watch him.”

  She gave the idea a fair shot, thinking about it for a minute or so before out and out rejecting it. “No, Nash. Why? Why would I come with you?”

  “Because we fit together,” he said, and there was nothing polite about the conversation anymore. His smile had once again dropped, and she could see his emotions were in it now—he was invested in this conversation in a way that she simply wasn't.

  “Is that what we do?” she scoffed.

  “Yes, it is. We fit. Why else are you so upset that I'm leaving for three stupid months?”

  She frowned, insulted. “Because you're my best friend.”

  “Because it's more than that,” he snapped.

  “No, Nash.”

  “Why not? Just give me one good reason why you're so opposed?”

  “Because I don't
feel that way about you!” she said with a frustrated laugh, tossing her hand into the air and bumping her entryway shelf as she did so. “What better reason is there?”

  He blinked rapidly, then his expression became a mystery to her. It was something she wasn't used to, being unable to read him.

  “Are you serious?” he asked, his tone going soft.

  “Nash, come on. You aren't seriously mad, are you?”

  “No, I'm not mad,” he said, and his words were followed by a long, painful silence between them.

  “I was just tired of waiting for you,” he said. “But now I don't have to wait anymore.”

  She swallowed. “What do you mean?”

  Nash tried to brighten, but he still wouldn't look at her as he said, “I mean now I can drop this ridiculous notion that we were supposed to be together because, clearly, we're not and I've been wasting my time thinking otherwise.”

  “Nash, I'm sorry. I just—”

  “I know,” he said as he stared down at the floor. “It's okay.”

  “Is it okay?” she repeated, her heart pounding. “Are we going to be okay?”

  He nodded. “Yeah. My ego's a little...” he paused, tilting his hand back and forth. “Meh...” he concluded. “But I'll be okay, just give me a little time.”

  “Alright,” she said unsurely. “Be safe, okay?”

  He nodded. “Okay.”

  She followed him out the door and over to his car. He got in it and waved his goodbye, but she leaned over and tapped the window, which he promptly opened.

  “Nash, do you wanna stay?” she asked. “Maybe we should stay and talk about this?”

  “No, I'm ready to go,” he said with a forced smile. “Take care of yourself,” he said as she leaned in through the window to hug him. “Have fun learning dog.”

  “I will.”

  Sophia felt sick the minute he pulled out of her driveway. This was why she hated admissions of affection. Saying “I like you” was a recipe for disaster. It didn't matter what an amazing friendship they'd had prior; any time she'd ever turned a guy down, he'd treated her like absolute garbage afterward.

  She worried that Nash would retaliate his hurt feelings by refusing to talk to her while he was away, but he stayed in contact via text and the occasional video chat. Even then, she could tell things between them were different.

  Sophia wasn't oblivious. She knew she had hurt his feelings and that Nash would probably treat her differently for a while—as most men did when you rejected them, but what she hadn't been expecting was the flood of lovesickness that struck her after the second week Nash had been gone.

  “I don't get it,” Lauren said one day, exasperated by Sophia talking about Nash.

  The two of them met at a Greek restaurant and were sitting at a high-top table, which meant they had to sit in stools, which Sophia hated because it meant her legs were going to dangle and she would have no back support for the duration of their meal. But the restaurant made a mean hummus plate.

  “What do you mean?” she asked.

  “Let me clarify,” Lauren said. “You. I don't get you.”

  “Ah,” Sophia nodded. “And I repeat: what are you talking about?”

  “Okay, promise you won't get mad?” Lauren said with a wince and Sophia nodded. “I'm sorry, cuz I know this is going to make you crazy, but I agree with Nash. You are so in love with him, it's crazy that you can't see it.”

  “What?” Sophia yelped with a laugh. “You've lost it!”

  “Oh yeah? Then let's play a game.”

  Sophia shrugged. “Alright.”

  “The game is called 'Perfect Man.' What does your perfect man look like?” her friend asked. “And don't say you don't know. All girls know. Even if they say they don't have a type, they're just lying to appear modest!”

  “Okay, I guess he has dark hair, he's taller than me, blue eyes,” she said.

  Lauren lifted a baked pita point to her mouth after running it through the plate of garlicky tzatziki. “Mmhm, okay. Nash, Nash, Nash,” her friend said quickly, eliciting an eye-roll from Sophia. “And what about his personality?” her friend asked in a mock-therapist voice. “What do you think are the best traits of the best guys?”

  “He would make me laugh; we would have inside jokes together; he would be driven—a hard worker. We'd like the same music and go to shows together,” she said begrudgingly. She knew where her friend was going with these questions, but it wasn't as though having blue eyes and making someone laugh was a trait exclusive to her best friend.

  “Right,” Lauren snapped playfully. “That's Nash all over. And who in your life makes you feel safe? Who do you turn to when you feel alone?”

  “That's not fair, you know the answer is Nash,” Sophia said, wrinkling her nose.

  “Yes,” Lauren enunciated. “The answer IS Nash.”

  Even knowing what Lauren was going to say, Sophia felt her heart speed up at the sound of his name. Was she in love with Nash? She'd fought against it for years. Sure, she'd had a crush on him, but she never saw it going anywhere serious. She didn't want that, did she? She didn't want to ruin their friendship.

  “No,” she insisted to her friend, suddenly put off her meal. “Nash is my soulmate, not my love.”

  “But you love him?” Lauren asked, and Sophia nodded. “And how would you feel if he started seeing someone else or if he didn't want to be your friend anymore?”

  “I would be heartbroken,” she said slowly.

  “And how have you felt since he left?”

  Sophia swallowed. “Lovesick.”

  Lauren crossed her arms and leaned forward on the table. It was in that exact moment that something inside Sophia ignited. It was like a switch was flipped and the feelings she'd worked so hard to keep at bay suddenly came spilling out. Had she been too quick to refuse Nash?

  “Oh no,” she breathed, holding her head in her hands and looking up at Lauren in shock.

  “Oh yes,” her friend grinned.

  “No, no, no. Why! Why did you do that?” she said in a panic.

  “Because it's so obvious!” Lauren giggled.

  “Lauren,” she said, horrified. “I love Nash.”

  Chapter Seven

  Nash

  “It's happening,” Wesley announced quickly as he entered Nash's office at the ranch.

  Not entirely paying attention, Nash looked up at his friend and squinted his eyes. He'd been responding to e-mails for what felt like hours now and was in a work haze. “What?” he asked.

  “Check your phone,” Wesley said quickly. “The mayor's saying it's happening now—the tornado. It's already touched down on the other side of the city.”

  Nash could hear the heavy pelting of rain outside and his eyes immediately went to the window. “Do the guests know?” he asked.

  “Yes, we have them in the basement. They're playing games down there, serving wine and beer, keeping everyone calm. It's a real party down there,” Wesley said with amusement. Nash made a face at this, and his friend offered a shrug. “I know, it's odd. But people do strange things when they're scared, and we should just be happy that they're not freaking out and causing a panic, right?”

  It was just after noon, but the sky had gone gunmetal gray, casting darkness over Tillsonburg.

  “Yeah, yeah, you're right,” Nash said, his eyes glued to the view of the ranch outside the window. What's more, to the little farm property next door.

  “Are you going to head home or head down to the cellars?” Wesley asked, trying to keep calm.

  “No, I'm going to go to Sophia's,” he said, grabbing his jacket off the back of his chair and rushing out the door.

  “Sophia?” Wesley repeated, following quickly behind his friend. They both turned briefly as they heard a strong wind hit the side of the office building with amazing force. “Nash, we're under strict order not to leave our homes unless—”

  “I need you to stay at the ranch,” Nash said, stubborn.

  “If you're g
oing to Sophia's, I'll come with you,” his friend said.

  “You just said we're supposed to stay where it's safe. Besides, I need eyes and ears here at the ranch,” he said and noted the strong irritation on Wesley's face.

  “Alright,” the man said begrudgingly, still following behind Nash to get to shelter. When their paths forked, Wesley for the cellar and Nash for the parking lot, Wesley grabbed his friend's arm. “Can I ask why you're going over there? We secured the property well enough, don't you think?”

  Nash shrugged. In truth, he didn't really know what he thought. He just knew there was a gnawing in the pit of his stomach that wasn't going to go away until he knew that Sophia was going to be okay. “I don't want to take any chances with Imogene there,” he said.

  “I don't think she's home,” Wesley said, and Nash raised a brow. “She told me she was going to her friend Lauren's.”

  “When did she tell you that?” Nash asked, trying not to sound irritated that Wesley had obviously stayed in contact with Sophia since they first met.

  “Yesterday,” he answered.

  Nash fished his key fob out of his pocket and held it firmly in his hand as he dismissed his friend, saying, “Well, Sophia says a lot of things. I'm going to go over there just to make sure.”

  “I can—” Wesley began, but Nash had had enough.

  “Wes! Will you just let me leave, please?”

  Without another word, he rushed out the front doors and ached as his staff rushed around the ranch grounds, gathering up guests and escorting them into the cellars.

  The wind was so strong that he could feel his car getting pushed with extreme force as he drove down the block to Sophia's house. He wondered briefly if the car might tip over, but knew he was going to take his chances regardless. It wasn't until the hail started pelting down on the hood of his truck that he truly became worried.

  When he got to Sophia's, he pulled right up to her porch. He could see that her front door was wide open.

  Nash left his car and rushed inside to see Sophia in her living room with Imogene in one arm and rolling luggage in the other.

  “Nash!” she said in surprise as he took the luggage from her arm and walked it outside, throwing it into the backseat of his truck.