Fleeting (Nash Brothers Book 1)

by Carrie Aarons

  “Did you always want to follow in his footsteps?” I suck some iced tea through the straw immediately after Jaime sets our drinks down.

  “Yes, although he may have groomed me for it as his oldest, I have always loved animals. My dad wanted out, he’d done his time and the minute I graduated from my medical program, he had one foot out the door. His stipulations were six months of us working the practice together, and then he was gone. I mean, I’d been working in the office, and with animals, since I was twelve. It wasn’t as if I was unequipped to take it over … but I guess I didn’t realize how quickly I’d be running my own business, let alone be a solo doctor in a practice. And then, six months later, he died. Left so suddenly that I couldn’t ask him all of the questions I had about our profession. All of the questions I had about life.”

  He might be a grown man, one who acts unflappable and is the picture of a jovial guy, but I can see the sad little boy grieving in there.

  I squeeze his hand. “I’m so sorry, Keaton. I have no idea how hard that must have been for you, how hard it still is.”

  Finally, he pulls his eyes away from the window and back to me. “That’s why I work as hard as I do. It’s why I try to stay on top of my brothers and help my mom out whenever she needs it. That’s what he would have wanted from me, the oldest son, you know?”

  This upstanding, responsible man sent my world into a tizzy. How the heck was someone so noble … interested in me? I was in awe of his strength.

  The conversation fizzled into surface level talk when our food was set down, plus I didn’t want to push him. Keaton had decided to open the door that I suspected he kept locked up tight even if it was only a crack. I was grateful, and if I played it right, maybe he’d feel comfortable enough to tell me exactly what went on in that gorgeous head of his.

  “Don’t you need to get back to the office?” I look at the clock hanging on the wall with a cut-out to see right into the kitchen.

  It’s been nearly two hours, and it’s the middle of a workday. This is so unlike the Keaton I’ve known so far.

  He shrugs. “I told Dierdra to shuffle some patients around. It’s no big deal … I wanted to spend a long lunch with you. Are you trying to get rid of me?”

  This makes me chuckle. “Maybe … no, I’m not. I’m kind of flattered that the upstanding Dr. Nash changed his schedule around for me.”

  “Only for you. And, just to be fair, I’ve done a mental checklist of what I need to get done by the end of the day about fifteen times since we’ve been sitting here.” Keaton’s smile lights up his face.

  “I’d expect nothing less.”

  20

  Keaton

  Presley and I spend most of the week together.

  We see each other for lunch, either spending it at Kip’s or with brown bags on a park bench. I teach her about the butcher shop’s deli meat, and she brings me bread that Hattie buys from the Amish market half an hour away. She tells me about her life in New York, and I listen intently, trying to gain insight into what makes this woman tick.

  What I’ve learned so far? Presley is independent but seeks affirmation. She’s also one of the kindest and most open-minded people I’ve ever met. She hates mustard but likes to put pickles on any kind of sandwich and even told me that peanut butter and the sour vegetable isn’t a bad combination. Even though she doesn’t hear from them a lot, and I have a feeling there is more of a backstory to it, she loves her family. And her laugh is the best sound I’ve ever heard.

  On Friday night, I had her over for dinner at my place for the first time. Having a woman back in my house was … strange. But it only took a minute for that feeling to pass, and then we split a bottle of red and cooked tacos together, and it had been the best night I’d had in … well, maybe ever.

  The night had ended with us on the couch, her shirt on the floor, and one beautiful breast fitting perfectly in each hand. I’d jacked off twice after she insisted on leaving, and I was still semi-hard as I pulled on my workout shorts this morning.

  Presley left because we were both trying to pace ourselves even if we didn’t say it out loud. As much as I wanted to drag her upstairs and strip her naked, I held back. We were having a good time, what was the rush?

  However … just because we were pacing ourselves didn’t mean I couldn’t surprise her at her class this morning.

  I lock my front door and pull a ball cap down over my head; the brim shielding my eyes from the Saturday morning rays.

  “Tell me again why I have to come to this?”

  Forrest was sitting in one of the rockers on my front porch, in almost identical workout gear.

  “Because I haven’t seen you in a while and you’re my brother. Plus, you’re getting a little pudgy around the middle.”

  Forrest stands, lifting his shirt to show me his abs. “You don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about, old man.”

  I smile, shaking my head. “To be so young again. Ah well, you’re coming with me and that’s the end of it.”

  “Whatever. I’m really just going to this thing because there are going to be a lot of women in yoga pants. Bending over. And it’s a nice day.”

  Rolling my eyes, my annoyance at my brother sparks. Forrest is always the hardest one to keep in line. “Hey, where were you the other night, anyway? I haven’t seen you in a week. Fletcher needed you.”

  I might be scolding him, but I’m the older brother and that’s my right. Forrest has always been the fringe sibling, the one who operates best without us all.

  “Do we have to be up in each other’s fucking business all the time? We’re grown men,” he grumbles.

  See? He’s fiercely independent, which is strange for someone in such a tight-knit family, much less a twin. But he could live on his own in a completely new place and guarantee, we’d never hear from him. I found out he went to London last year when I couldn’t get ahold of him for two weeks and we finally asked the travel agent in town who’d booked the trip for him.

  And he’s so damn smart, so much smarter than any of us. It gives him an advantage, and grates at me as the oldest brother and head of the family now.

  We walk over to Bloomsbury Park together, since I live so close, and my brother’s eyes light up as soon as we crest the hill to the field where Presley’s yoga class is located.

  And there she is, standing in a group of women all wearing some sort of yoga legging or short and tank top combo. Presley has opted for the short, the magenta spandex highlighting every curve of her well-sculpted ass. They’re paired with a tight white athletic tank top, and how I’m going to get through this class without an erection is a mystery.

  “No you didn’t.” When she spots me, she starts laughing and points to the rolled up yoga mat I carry under my arm.

  “Amazon for the win, baby.” I shrug, making my way to her as the women around us watch.

  “Hey, Forrest.” Lily waves at my brother, and then at me.

  Despite what happened between her and Bowen, I know that Lily is an amazing girl. She was great for my brother and really did nothing wrong. But what she doesn’t know is the shit that went on behind the scenes … and how Bowen really did protect her. His rejection of her, his ignoring her, it’s for her own good.

  “Lily.” Forrest nods and then turns to Presley. “And we met briefly, but I figured I should get to know the woman my brother is dating.”

  A few whispers crop up when my brother says this, and I wink at Presley. The people in this town have already been talking about it, this much I know from patients who come in and flat out ask me if I’m seeing the McDaniel girl. But to have my own brother come out and confirm it … the women in this yoga class can’t wait for it to be over so they can go blab to anyone who will listen.

  I don’t mind though, let them. Presley and I know, without having to have a middle school conversation about it, that we’re only dating each other. And I’m pleasantly surprised that for the first time in two years, I want the town of Fawn Hill to
know what’s going on in my love life.

  “Nice to meet you.” Presley shakes Forrest’s hand. “Hope you’re ready for a workout.”

  The smile she wears is downright cocky, and I feel my dick twitch in my shorts. Down, boy, we have to get through this without embarrassing ourselves.

  My brother looks skeptical. “I’m just surprised this took off so quick.”

  “Don’t be an ass, Forrest Nash. Presley is really great at teaching, and this town needs to get with the twenty nineteen workout craze. Lord knows some of the residents here could work off that pie from Kip’s,” Penelope, one of the young PTA moms and an all-around town queen bee, chides him.

  Again, my brother lifts his shirt, much to the delight of some of the women standing around. “I don’t think I have that problem.”

  “Put your abs away, wonder boy.” Penelope rolls her eyes.

  I pull Presley aside for a minute, and as soon as we’re out of earshot, I give her a quick kiss on the cheek.

  “It’s okay that I’m here? I wanted to surprise you, see you in your element, but I can go if you want me to.”

  She lays a hand on my arm. “Keaton, I want you to stay. If only so I can kick your ass.”

  “Only if you massage it later. I have a feeling I’ll be sore.” I advance toward her playfully.

  “Enough, Casanova. I have a class to teach.” She pushes my chest with one hand and walks off.

  It is a sight to watch her go.

  Only, ten minutes into the class, every muscle in my body is straining.

  “I’m using muscles I didn’t even know were fucking there,” I whisper to Forrest, rubbing my calf as the whole group bends over in some salutation.

  And even though my tendons are on fire, I can see why the yoga class is so popular. The reason? Presley. She’s enigmatic while also being a calm, soothing presence over the class. She knows her shit and explains in a quiet voice as she walks around, helping people with their poses.

  The whole thing is actually relaxing, but works your body, which I guess is the goal.

  “My shit doesn’t bend that way.” Forrest eyeballs the ass of the woman in front of us.

  “Just … try your best,” I say, exasperated.

  “If my ball sack splits open, you’re paying for the plastic surgery.”

  The woman next to us giggles, and another gives us a death glare.

  There isn’t supposed to be much talking during yoga, and yet my brother apparently never got that memo.

  “If the gentlemen in the back can’t keep it down, I’ll have to ask them to leave. This class is for quiet meditation, thought and health.”

  Presley smirks at me from her mat up at the front, and I nod my head in apology.

  I sure do hope I get that massage later. And that I can reciprocate.

  21

  Presley

  “So, you’re replacing me?”

  Ryan’s bitter tone comes through the speaker of my cell as I draw a perfectly winged eyeliner stroke across my lid.

  “Shut up, I’m not doing anything of the sort. Plus, you could never be replaced. Who would retrieve all of my passwords when I lock myself out of websites?” I chuckle.

  “You’re technologically hopeless, but I still love you. So what’s the deal with these chicks? And when are you coming back to the city?”

  I bite my thumbnail, anxiety racketing through me, and thank God Ryan can’t see it. Because I wasn’t sure I was ever coming back to the city. I’d only spent two months in Fawn Hill, and one of those had been without knowing anyone but Grandma. Now that I had a life here—a job, my yoga class, blossoming friendships and a man I was dating—I honestly couldn’t imagine leaving. In the city I’d had nothing but misery, one-night stands and the craziness of twenty-four hour noise in my brain. I would have never expected it, but Fawn Hill was quickly becoming a place I could see myself staying for a very long time to come.

  “The chicks are Lily and Penelope, and I met them when I started teaching my yoga class. Lily is in charge over at the library, and Penelope has three kids even though she’s our age. They’re really nice and want to take me out for a girl’s night. But you know you’re still my best friend. We’ve been through too much shit together for me to ever cut you lose … you might spill my dirty little secrets.”

  I choose to ignore the second half of her question. Not that I’ve told this to anyone yet, but I’ve pretty much decided to stay where I am for the foreseeable future.

  “Pinky promise I’ll take them to the grave. I have to go. This guy I met on Tinder is taking me to an escape room.”

  “You’re going to an escape room with a guy you just met? Don’t families get destroyed in those things? Isn’t there a lot of yelling and working together?”

  Ryan snorts. “Exactly. It’ll be the ultimate test if we would be good together. And if we can’t escape, then he definitely isn’t coming back to my room.”

  Her absurd logic has me giggling long after we’ve hung up.

  I swipe some red lipstick across my lips, pucker in the mirror, and run a hand down my navy blue sundress. I’m excited for this girl’s night. When Penelope suggested she get a babysitter and drink Lily and I under the table at the Goat & Barrister, the only bar in Fawn Hill, I was all for it. My nights and days had been spent with Keaton and Grandma and having a little girl gossip would be fun.

  My phone blinked nine o’clock as I got behind the wheel of Grandma’s car. I still didn’t have one, and she was fast asleep so she wouldn’t miss it. I sent one last text to Keaton before I drove over to meet the girls.

  Me: Hope you’re having a fun night on the couch.

  I snapped a selfie, making sure to highlight the V-neck of my dress, and sent it.

  Keaton: You look incredible. Have fun, be safe. If you need a ride home, call me.

  While I was happy to have some time with new friends, part of me wished I was sitting on that couch with him. Keaton’s house was so cozy and having a place where we could be alone was a novel concept for me. Even though I was nearing thirty, I’d never had a place of my own, detached from other apartments or devoid of roommates. Spending time with Keaton made me feel more grown-up.

  Parking is located behind the bar, and when I walk into the Goat & Barrister, Lily and Penelope are already seated atop barstools. The place is part British pub, part Pennsylvania dive bar, and I appreciate the charm.

  “Hi ladies.” I sidle up next to them, putting my purse on the bar and climbing onto the stool next to Lily, who now sits in the middle.

  “Hey, girl, thanks for coming out.” She smiles.

  Penelope holds up her drink. “Catch up. Mama has a babysitter for another hour and a half and then this princess turns into a pumpkin.”

  Her sarcasm makes me laugh. “I have zero idea how you manage it. I can barely take care of myself, let alone three kids.”

  “TV and chicken nuggets, the secret to parenting.” She downs the glass of wine in her hand.

  The bartender, a surly old man in a flannel shirt, even though it’s July, comes by to take my drink order. I ask for my usual, a nice, dry glass of white, with an ice cube. He obliges, and sets it down in front of me in exchange for my credit card to start a tab.

  If I’d asked for an ice cube in my wine back in New York, some hipster bartender would have rolled his eyes at me. But here, I just get my drink, no side of judgment.

  “I think that might be the secret to single life, too, because I do that often.” Lily giggles, taking a sip of her light beer.

  “Amen, sister. Although give me a pint of ice cream any day.”

  “You’re not single, get the hell out of here. You’ve got the oldest Nash wrapped around your finger,” Penelope scoffs.

  I smile, unable to hide my happiness. “I don’t know about that, but …”

  “He did yoga for you.” Lily raises an eyebrow.

  “Speaking of the Nash men …” Penelope’s eyes swing across the bar to a table near the dart
board.

  Three men sit there, all with varying looks of Nash genes. Of course I saw them all at the Summer Kickoff Carnival, but not up close and not for very long.

  One gets up from the table, his swagger echoing across the room.

  This is the brother Keaton left to go help the other night, I’d put money on it. He’s younger than Keaton, and me by about three or four years from the look of him. Charm oozes from every pore, and he’s more of a pretty boy than his brother; more muscular, almost as tall, but his hair is darker and his eyes are a sea glass blue that makes me think of the trip when my parents brought us to the ocean in Florida.

  I can see how this young hotshot is the life of the party. The megawatt smile, the way he leans into women all over this bar. But you can see the gait in his walk, like he’s on his sixth beer when everyone else is on their first. I can see the bags under his eyes and how he keeps taking shot after shot, as if the alcohol won’t puncture his veins until he’s at the bottom of the bottle.

  And all at once, worry swamps me. I may not have directly dealt with an addict, but I’ve had friends and colleagues who have. I know how hard it can be to love someone with the disease, and how difficult it is to support but scold them all at the same time.

  Keaton is the head of his family, and the anger that washed over his face at the water tower the other day makes sense. This has been going on for a long time, if I’m correct in observing his brother.

  “Presley! Hey, you’re the one banging my brother.” His brother spots me and starts to make his way over.

  Instantly, my face heats at his assessment of me.

  Lily rolls her eyes and Penelope holds up a hand to stop him from getting too close. “Fletcher, go sleep it off. You’re drunk, just like you are every time I see you. If Keaton heard you shooting your mouth off like that, he’d shut it for you.”