Nash Brothers Box Set

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Nash Brothers Box Set Page 17

by Carrie Aarons


  Besides the day my dad died … today was the lowest day I could ever remember for our family.

  We’d all gone to check Fletcher in, with Bowen and I now sitting in the front seat of my car, and Forrest and Mom in the back. We felt incomplete; this wasn’t our family unit. We weren’t united. And we wouldn’t be for another three months. Fletcher was going for a strict ninety days, and even though he could check himself out, I knew he wouldn’t.

  I’d seen his face, I’d been the last one to leave his room. He looked like the little boy I remember helping up after he scraped his knee for the first time. Scared, frightened, in pain … but also a little invincible. Like the world could throw anything at him and he’d still rise again to fight another day.

  I hope to God he gets healthy and sober.

  “He’s going to do it, Ma. I just know it.” Forrest tries to comfort Mom as I put the car in reverse and then drive, steering us toward home.

  It takes us forty minutes to get back to Mom’s house, which is pretty much empty at this point. Everything has been packed into boxes or sold, and we’re doing a final moving day next weekend to help get her settled in her townhouse. She chose a newer construction home in the section of town that has gone through a development boom in the last two years.

  I told her she could move in with one of us and not rent until she found something she loved, but she refused. Said she didn’t want to infringe on us. Really, I think she’s just anxious to start the next chapter of her life. With the house sold and her husband gone, I think Mom is looking to take a couple of deep breaths and start anew as best as she can.

  Forrest sits down at the kitchen island. “This is so weird. This whole day, just … strange.”

  Bowen harrumphs in agreement, walking to the set of windows that looks out onto the backyard.

  “I wish Dad were here.” The quiet words come out of my mouth before I can even stop them.

  My brothers look at me, stunned. Bowen speaks first. “I do, too. I bet he’s happy she’s sold it.”

  Forrest looks down at his hands. “He would have done that stupid wink and then told her he was proud.”

  From the doorway, a sob rings out. We all turn swiftly, to see Mom standing there, tears streaming down her face.

  “Thank you. Thank all of you. We raised you boys right, we raised you to be the best kind of men. Your father … he would have been proud of all of us.”

  I go to her because I’m the oldest. I’m the one who carries the team now, who picks us up when we’re down.

  Mom’s back heaves up and down as I pat it, as the wetness from her eyes soaks into my shirt. I blink up, trying not to get emotional. I don’t know that I have anything left in me. Between talking about Dad, where we dropped Fletcher off at today, and Presley …

  She sniffles, gulping hard as she straightens to look at me. Her dark eyes narrow, the same color as my own. “And he’d want you to do the same. Move on, I mean. I see the way you look at Presley. Don’t be a fool, Keaton. Tell that girl you love her that you can’t live without her.”

  “This isn’t about me.” I huff, turning away.

  “Oh, yes, it is. And while it’s my turn to get real with you, I need you to know that you’re not responsible for everyone else’s problems. Your brothers can make their own mistakes and learn to clean them up. You’re not their keeper, and you shouldn’t be expected to be mine. You have to live, too, sweetheart.”

  Her words hit the most vulnerable spot inside of me, the one that prickles with shame and aches from being broken. Since my father died …

  Hell, even before that. I’ve always felt this sense of responsibility. Do everything in an orderly fashion. Family over everything. Duty over happiness. Love should only happen in a practical, ducks-in-a-row kind of a way. Date, get engaged, get married, buy a house, have kids.

  But … my life was living proof that nothing ever happened according to plan. And here I was, still trying to control it and live by these ridiculous ideals I’d set up for myself.

  “She was only trying to protect you that night, Keat.” Bowen’s expression tells me he’s on Mom’s side.

  “She’s reckless. She … she, she makes me act spontaneously. I’m not a child. I’m a man with a business and responsibilities.”

  “And I’d say the fact that she just purchased a storefront on Main Street says that she’s just as serious about making a life here as you are.” Forrest is looking down at his phone.

  Mom clucks her tongue at him.

  He shrugs. “What? Accessing building records and real estate deals is like, the easiest thing ever.”

  Presley had bought a storefront? Obviously, I knew that Hattie had put the book shop up for sale but …

  She was really putting down roots in Fawn Hill. Despite my rejection, despite my idiocy in letting her go, she was making a decision to settle in.

  And just like that, my heart started beating again.

  “I told her I loved her and she didn’t say it back,” I tell them all for the first time.

  Before right now, no one knew the secret pain I’d been hiding. Her unwillingness to give me those emotions back burned in the deepest chambers of my heart.

  Bowen’s voice is quiet when he speaks. “You can love someone very much and not be able to say it.”

  No one touches that with a ten-foot pole. Instead, Mom turns back to me and takes my face in her hands.

  “Your father told me he loved me on our second date. We’d known each other for ten days, and he professed his love to me. To say I was shocked would be an understatement. It took me an entire month after that to say it back. You are so much like him it scares me sometimes. Keaton, you are a man who knows exactly what you want. You say how you feel when you feel it. You’re humble, intelligent, loyal and when you love someone, they know it. You’re the best kind of person. But … you can also be a bit intimidating. Presley loves you, I know that girl does, but she just needs some time to sort out her feelings. She chose you because you’re the type of man who will let her. Who will still be waiting there for her when she does finally come to that conclusion. And if she needs a little push, because she is who she is, then you give her a little push. Be her steadiness, be her patience. And when you can’t be that anymore, put it all on the line.”

  “Grand freaking gesture, man,” Forrest echoes our mother.

  Mom’s words open my eyes to the thing I haven’t been able to see all along. The one that’s been right in front of me.

  Presley and I … we chose each other because of our differences, not in spite of them. I love that she forces me to be spontaneous, and I think she loves that I ground her.

  “But I ended things.”

  Mom waves me off. “Please, as if men don’t do stupid things all the time. I raised four boys, I should know. You go to her and make things right. Or would you rather be alone and heartbroken forever?”

  “Jeez, way to be harsh, Ma.” Forrest chuckles.

  She was right. I knew that. I’d known it since the moment I’d acted like an idiot and let go of the one woman I’d ever truly loved.

  But, Presley was staying in Fawn Hill, which sparked a tiny flicker of hope in my chest.

  Maybe I had one last shot.

  37

  Presley

  The sale of the storefront at the end of Main Street hasn’t gone through yet, but that doesn’t keep me from visiting it every morning.

  With coffee in hand, I stand across the street, staring at the empty windows and half-done space beyond them … just dreaming of what this place will look like a year from now. My place.

  Well, technically, it’s almost all Grandma’s … but it’s my dream and I can lay claim to that.

  I can see the shiny, light wooden floors with yoga mats unrolled all over them. I can see the wall of mirrors I’ll install on the entire back of the space. I’ll call some of my friends from the city, see if they can get me some merchandise shipped down here that I could sell. The whole st
udio will have a relaxed, homey vibe and it will be a peaceful space for Fawn Hill to not only get their bodies in shape but their minds, too.

  I’ve already told Lily and Penelope about it, and, of course, those two then told everyone else. I’ve gotten phone calls and passerby conversations about how excited the women who already take my class in the park are.

  The sale of the bookshop, and the acquisition of this space plus the courses I’ve been taking and the contractors I’ve been interviewing … it has all kept my mind off of Keaton.

  Sort of. Okay, not really, but a girl can use denial as a tool and a shield, right?

  I take a sip of coffee, loving the bitter but energizing bite of it, and turn my head to look at the bustle of Main Street in the morning. Fawn Hill may be a small town, but its citizens are grinders. They’re up before dawn tending their farms, they’re loyally ordering their coffee from Java, they’re mailing their packages and dropping their kids off at school or opening their own businesses’ doors to welcome in other residents. I like that the studio is at the end of the block, that I can observe the morning busyness from afar, but still catch a glimpse of it. It’ll remind me who I’m doing this for.

  I’m scanning the crowd running their morning errands down the street, so I don’t catch his face separating from the rest of the townspeople until it’s too late and awkward to just walk off.

  “Hi.” Keaton walks toward me, a coffee in his hand as well.

  My heart picks up the pace, while my brain tries to tell the stupid, foolish thing to quit it. He dumped us, remember?

  “Hi.” I nod politely and sip my coffee, turning my head so that I’m looking at my future studio and not the man who broke my heart.

  He stands next to me, looking like the definition of fall in his worn-in blue jeans and cream cable-knit sweater. He looks cozy and warm, and I have the sudden urge to be wrapped up all day in him like a good blanket. I have to physically restrain myself from moving closer.

  “How have you been?” Keaton’s voice is tender, and I wonder why he’s even over here.

  Has he been watching me watch the studio each morning? Does he think about me anymore? It’s only been about two weeks since he ended things on that horrible night we saved Fletcher, but it feels like an eternity.

  I look down at my feet out of habit. “I’ve been good, thanks.”

  This conversation is awkward and stifled … and strange. Strange because even when we first met, even when I turned him down the first, and second, time, Keaton and I have always known how to banter. We’ve always been able to be honest in talking to one another. And now, I’m just straight up lying.

  I can see his head bobbing up and down in a nod. “I heard through the grapevine that you bought this place.”

  A small smile breaks my frown. “You can never do anything in this town without everyone knowing.”

  “No, you cannot.” Keaton takes a sip of coffee. “So, a yoga studio? That’s what you’re going to turn it into, right?”

  “Yes.” I don’t feel like being here.

  Talking to him is painful, doesn’t he know that? Well … maybe he doesn’t. I never told him how I felt. He ended it before I could.

  But as much as I want to be angry with him, I can’t. As much as I want to accuse him of ruining things between us, yell at him and demand to know why he sought me out … I won’t. I know why he ended things. Keaton Nash is the most responsible man I know. He has so much on his plate that he can’t make room for a woman who is so indecisive about her feelings and her future.

  Keaton turns so that he’s standing in front of me, not next to me like before, and I’m forced to look at him. His facial hair is scruffier than usual, and although he’s as gorgeous as ever, his eyes hold exhaustion. I’d heard through that ever-present town grapevine that the Nash family had taken Fletcher to rehab, and I know how hard this must be for Keaton. He’ll look at it as his own personal failure.

  “You’re going to do so great. I’m really proud of you, Presley. You’re following your dreams, and that is amazing.”

  Keaton looks like he wants to say something more, and his hand raises as if he’s about to run it through my hair. Just like he did every morning we were together. As if his fingers connecting with my locks was just as soothing for him as it was for me.

  I’m waiting with bated breath, because I can feel the hope sparking between us. It’s building in the air, and I want so badly to reach out and grab it, spin it into something that’s tangible and real that I can give to both of us.

  “I only ever started on this journey because of you. You made me believe in myself,” I whisper, my eyes searching his.

  Tell him you love him.

  It’s on the tip of my tongue, but Keaton cuts me off.

  “You had it in you all along. I just reminded you of what you could be. Good luck, Presley. You’re going to be incredible.”

  And then he turns on his heel and slowly walks off, shaking his head.

  I’m left standing in front of my future studio, wondering what the hell just happened?

  38

  Keaton

  And, nerdy, fumbling Keaton Nash was back.

  Remember him? The guy who couldn’t get Presley McDaniel to agree to a date until the third time he asked. And even then, she rejected me at the end of it.

  I thought I’d been charming, if not a little nervous, in those early encounters. And then I’d won her heart, so, of course, she knew me. Knew how I operated.

  But apparently, I’d forgotten all of my slick moves in the three weeks we’d been broken up. I’d forgotten that I had enough game to win her over the first time around. That’s why I’d completely crashed and burned, and chickened out, in front of her future yoga studio a couple of days ago.

  It took a pep talk in my bathroom mirror before I was able to walk down to the Pumpkin Festival around six p.m. Thank God, Mom didn’t wrangle us into a booth for this carnival. Even though caramel corn would be a lot easier to make in the fifty-five-degree weather tonight, rather than the almost ninety in the summer that threatened to sweat our balls off.

  But I had the night off, and I knew a certain gorgeous redhead didn’t, which worked to my advantage. Through the trusty Fawn Hill gossip line, I’d learned that Presley would be helping Lily at the library’s used book stand tonight at the festival. Since I could pin down her whereabouts, and had finally gotten up the balls to tell her how foolish I was for letting her go, I was going with plan B.

  Or Forrest’s plan, as he was bragging about it earlier.

  The grand gesture.

  I head straight for the library tent, which is always in the same place in the lineup of businesses advertising in Bloomsbury Park at this festival. The air smells like cinnamon and apples, and the colors of fall are draped over every possible surface.

  Lily spots me first, smiling as I approach. “Are you here to buy or sell?”

  I look past her, waiting for Presley to turn around and see me. Her long scarlet hair falls in curls down her back where a gray sweater dress wraps around her curves. The swell of her ass, the skin on her bare legs … they’re distracting. But I keep my eyes up, my head straight. I’m on a mission.

  “Neither. I’m here for a Ferris wheel ride.”

  At my voice, Presley’s back straightens, and she turns, her green eyes wide.

  She doesn’t speak, so I ask again, holding my hand out. “What do you say? Join me?”

  “I-I’m working here,” she stutters.

  Lily jumps in. “No, I’ve got it. You go take a break, you’re due anyway.”

  “I got here half an hour ago.” Presley scowls at her.

  “It’s not even busy! I can handle it. You go have fun.” Lily practically pushes her out of the booth.

  Once she’s standing out in the grass with me, stripped of her duties, the nervous energy sparks between us.

  “Shall we?” I start to lead the way and breathe a sigh of relief when she follows.

&
nbsp; We climb into the Ferris wheel car, and I have to focus on the fact that I have her in this death trap for the next twenty or so minutes, completely alone. I have to say what I need to say.

  The bar closes over our laps, and déjà vu moves in swiftly. It might not be the exact same Ferris wheel, but it’s in the exact same spot in Bloomsbury Park, and my jean-clad leg is touching hers, and the nervous energy flowing through my veins almost matches that of the first time she agreed to go on a date with me.

  “So, you wanted to take me up here?” Presley looks at me as the car rises.

  I dive right in. “I chickened out the other day on Main Street.”

  Confusion marks her expression. “What?”

  “I was coming over to tell you that … I was an idiot. I was selfish. I was hurt and confused and just wanted it all to stop so I took the easy way out by ending us. But, you need to know. I love you. More than any of the other things that consume my life. I was a coward and a moron, I should have never let you go. I should have told you I’d be here, that I’d wait while you figured your feelings out, instead of running like a scared boy. I’m ready to be the man you can count on. I’m in love with you, Presley.”

  We stop at the exact peak of the wheel, and I internally high-five myself for having the foresight to slip the teenage ride operator twenty bucks yesterday. I needed to manufacture a little bit of this, just to make sure it went perfectly.

  It wasn’t every day you needed to grovel for the love of your life.

  She sucks in a gasp, and I want so badly to touch her, but I know I have to give her a minute.

  “I knocked on your front door that night fully intending to tell you that I was in love with you.” Presley’s green eyes are open, vulnerable.

  Shock pulses through me. “You were? Wait … you love me.”

  She gulps, and I watch her elegant neck during the motion. “I love you, Keaton. I know I had to work up the courage then, just like I do now. I’m so sure of it, and yet I’m scared out of my mind. I’ve never loved someone this much. Loved someone with so much of me that I’m fighting my instinct to run with every fiber of my being.”

 

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