Forever Enough (Love in Montana Book 6)

Chapter Eight – Bradly

brADLY

I managed to avoid everyone once I got home from dropping off Mackenzie. Avery and my father must have still been at Uncle Ty’s place, and my mother had mentioned something about going to Stella and Ty Senior’s.

After rushing up to my bedroom, stripping out of my clothes and taking a shower, I spent way too much time staring into my closet. The light knock on the door had me glancing over my shoulder to see my mother.

“Why are you standing in front of your closet in nothing but a pair of sweatpants? Aren’t you cold?” she asked as she walked in and set something down on my bed.

“Nah, I’m not cold. What’s that?” I asked as I made my way over to the box.

“It’s my old journal.”

I picked up the box and opened it to see a red leather-bound book. Carefully taking it out, I set the box on the bed and lifted my gaze to Mom. “Why are you giving it to me?”

“Oh,” she said with a humorless laugh. “I’m not giving it to you. I’m letting you borrow it.”

Confused, I sat down next to her. “Okay, but why?”

Mom drew in a deep breath and slowly exhaled. “I want to share the words I wrote down when I fell in love with your father.”

I looked at the journal then back to my mother. “You know Avery’s going to want to read this, don’t you?”

She grinned. “You were always the quiet one. So many people would say you were shy, and I remember thinking you weren’t shy; you were simply noticing everything.”

I chuckled. “I think a bit shy as well.”

She gave a one-shoulder shrug. “You remind me so much of myself when I was younger. Of course, you also remind me of your father in other ways, but with your heart, I think you take after me.” Taking my hand in hers, she met my gaze. “Bradly, I want to tell you something, and I’m not entirely sure it’s my place to say anything, but I love you, and I have truly come to love Mackenzie.”

My heart felt like someone was slowly squeezing it in their fist. If she was about to tell me to stay away from Mackenzie, I wasn’t sure what I would do.

“Mom, if you’re about to—”

“Wait,” she said as she held up her hand. “Let me keep talking before you say anything. You’re my son, and a mother knows things. I don’t know how we have this magic, but I’m sure God gave it to us for a reason. I’ve never known you to look at someone like you look at Mackenzie. Then your father called me after you both left Ty’s place, and he told me about your little chat.”

“Okay. But I’m not saying I’m in love. I just…feel something I’ve never felt before. It’s intense, the way I feel for her.”

“Does it scare you?”

I laughed. “No. The opposite. I want to know everything I can about her. She intrigues me in so many ways. I feel like I’m caught in a spell of some kind. The thought of leaving her to go to New York, even just for a couple of days…I don’t want to go. And I haven’t even known her for twenty-four hours.”

Placing her hand to her mouth, she let out what I thought was a laugh. “Oh, sweetheart, sometimes feelings like these take months, even years to grow. Then there are those rare occasions when you stand in a room with someone and you’re just…”

“Enchanted.”

“Yes. Exactly.”

I briefly closed my eyes as I said, “When I saw her in the barn last night, even from across that span of space, it was like there she is. I thought to myself…finally, the person I’d been waiting for since I took my first breath.”

My mother blinked rapidly as I heard a soft sigh behind me. Turning, I saw Avery standing there with a hand over her heart.

“My God, if that isn’t the most romantic thing I’ve ever heard. If a man doesn’t say that to me, I don’t want him.”

I laughed and shook my head as I looked back at our mother. “Why are you blinking like that? Is something in your eyes?”

“Tears, you jackass,” Avery said as she walked around me and made her way over to our mother. “He got that romantic side from you, Mom. I cannot imagine Daddy being like that.”

Mom laughed and wiped a tear from her own cheek.

“Me being like what?” my dad asked as he walked into the room.

“Why don’t you get dressed for your dinner date and meet us down in the kitchen, sweetheart,” Mom suggested as she stood and walked to my father, taking his hand in hers.

“Please, Bradly, will you let me pick out something for you to wear to dinner?” Avery asked.

Dad raised a brow. “Date isn’t over, I take it?”

“I’m having dinner with Kenzie at her place.”

My father glanced at my mother and frowned. “Are you crying?”

“No! No, they’re happy tears.”

Avery chuckled. “Because your son here just all but admitted to being in love.”

“I did not.”

“You said you saw Mackenzie in the barn last night and it was like, finally, there she was. The person you’ve been waiting for since you took your first breath.”

Dad glanced at me and raised his brows as he said, “Those romance books you read all the time are paying off. That’s some good shit.”

My mother hit my father on the chest. “Dirk Littlewood, stop it.”

“What? They are. Can you imagine me ever saying something like that?”

Avery busted out laughing, and I couldn’t help but smile.

“As a matter of fact, I’ll have you kids know your father was very romantic. Still is romantic. Once he got his head out of his ass, that is.”

Rolling his eyes, Dad said, “Thanks for that, Merit.”

Winking, Mom replied, “It’s true.”

“Come on, let’s go make our own dinner, I’m starving,” my dad said, wrapping his arm around Mom’s waist and guiding her out of the bedroom.

After Avery and I argued about what I was going to wear, we both settled on jeans, a button-down shirt, and my cowboy boots. She put a cowboy hat on my head as we left my bedroom and headed downstairs to the kitchen.

Avery sat at the kitchen island and gave me a questioning look. “What are you bringing with you?”

“Um, I wasn’t aware I should bring something.”

She harrumphed. “Romance books, you have failed him.”

I snarled my lip at my sister as she went on.

“Bradly, she invited you to dinner, so you need to bring something. Flowers, dessert, a gift.”

“A gift?” I exclaimed.

“It’s the first date, she is not expecting a gift,” Dad interjected.

“I agree, she won’t be expecting anything, but I also agree with your sister. You can’t show up with nothing,” Mom said as she glanced around the kitchen. Tapping a finger on her chin, she paused, then smiled.

We watched as she rushed over to the refrigerator. She pulled out a pie and set it on the counter before walking into the dining room, where she grabbed a bouquet of flowers in a vase.

My dad quickly intercepted her and snatched the vase out of her hands. “Hey! I gave you those flowers on Christmas Eve!”

Taking them back from him, she said, “And they’re beautiful, but we need them. You don’t want your son to show up with nothing, do you? You raised him better than that. Besides, you and I both adore Mackenzie, and Bradly can’t afford to let her slip through his fingers.”

“I’m sorry, what?” I asked as I looked between my parents, who were both clearly ignoring me. Avery giggled and stood up, making her way to the flowers.

“He can bring the pie,” Dad argued, as he pointed to said pie.

Rolling her eyes, Mom moved past him. “Avery, go get that nice silver Christmas wrap we used for Stella and Ty Senior’s gift.”

“Oh! Yes!” Avery said, dashing out of the kitchen as my father continued to argue with my mother, while she pulled the flowers out of the vase, cut the ends off with scissors, and carefully placed each bud on the island.

“What’s happening here with the flowers and wrapping paper?” I asked, making my way over to the pie. “And is this an apple pie?”

“Yes, it is, and I’m making a bouquet for you to bring to Mackenzie,” Mom said as she shushed my dad and told him it was a losing battle.

Walking over to me in a huff, my father pointed. “You owe me a bouquet of flowers.” Glancing down at the pie, he added, “And a damn apple pie.”

As he stalked out of the kitchen, Avery bounced back in. “Got it! I also brought some silver ribbon.”

“Nice touch,” Mom said as she watched Avery take over with the flower arranging. Then, as Avery held the bouquet, Mom wrapped them up in the silver paper. Finally, she held them while Avery tied a bow around the bundle to finish it off.

I stared at the beautiful bunch of flowers. If I hadn’t known better, I would’ve thought they’d just come from a florist’s. “Wow, you two could open up a flower shop.”

Avery grinned. “Oh my gosh, how fun would that be! We could grow the flowers on the farm.”

Mom chuckled. “Well, I have to say, you have an eye for arranging the colors. Those look even more beautiful than when your dad brought them home.”

“There! Now you won’t show up empty-handed,” Avery stated with a wide smile on her face.

I glanced at my watch. “I need to get on the road or I’m going to be late.”

“Let me get the pie in a carrier for you.”

“Thanks, Mom.”

Turning to Avery, I asked, “Am I too dressed up?”

She gave me a once-over. “Not at all. The jeans are casual. The button-down shirt is a nice touch and dresses it up a bit. The cowboy boots are a given since it’s…well, you. I know you don’t want to wear a cowboy hat, but trust me on this one. Keep it on.”

“Really? You think? I’m just going to her apartment.”

Avery looked at me like I was crazy. “Oh, yes. You should know this. Women throw themselves at you when you wear a cowboy hat.”

I huffed. “They do not.”

My sister rolled her eyes. “Please. I’m not blind. I’ve grown up watching girls bat their eyes at you, and when I watch you ride on TV, I can see the way women look at you. Even some of the women reporters can’t help gawking.”

I gave her a light push. “I’m not wearing a cowboy hat.”

At that very moment, my mother walked into the kitchen and said, “Keep the hat on.” She crossed to me and smiled. Patting my chest, she sighed. “So handsome, just like your daddy.”

I heard Avery snort with laughter but decided to ignore her.

With the pie and flowers in hand, I headed out to my truck, forgoing a jacket, much to my mother’s dismay. “I’m literally driving down the road a few hundred yards. I don’t think I need a coat.”

By the time I got to my truck, though, I wished I’d put a jacket on. It was cold as hell. Or at the very least, wished I’d started my truck while I was inside waiting for pies and flowers. Once I got the truck warmed up, I headed down the road and toward Mackenzie’s place.

Pulling into the same spot where I’d parked last night, I glanced up to see the light shining through the apartment window. There were also lights on in the barn, which I assumed she had left on for me. To get to her apartment, you either had to walk through the barn, or go through a side door farther down the outside of the barn, which led to steps right up to the apartment. I decided to take the longer and warmer way. Say hello to a horse or two, and maybe catch sight of Pickles.

Once I stepped into the building and shut the door, I drew in a deep breath. The smell of hay, feed, and manure caused my heartbeat to pick up slightly. God, how I loved the smell of barns. A few of the horses that weren’t out to pasture poked their heads out of the stalls.

There was more than one barn on the ranch and this one over on the farm side. I wasn’t exactly sure why these particular horses were over here, and it bothered me that I hadn’t taken the time to learn more about the farm side. It was actually two different pieces of property. The farm belonged to my mother and uncle, and the ranch, of course, to my father.

“Evening,” I said as I passed by a stall. A paint bobbed her head and greeted me with a kick on the stall door. From the corner of my eye, I saw Pickles come bouncing sideways toward me, and I started to laugh. She was dressed in another set of Christmas pajamas, and damn if she wasn’t cute as hell. No wonder my dad liked Pickles.

“There you are.” Crouching down, I pulled a plastic bag out of my front pocket and took out the two slices of apple. The goat ate them right up, then went back to bouncing around the barn as if she was the happiest thing in the world.

“Free rein of the barn, huh? I see Kenzie plays favorites.”

“I do not.”

The sound of her voice caused me to stand immediately, only to have my knees go weak at the sight before me. She was wearing a light blue sweater dress that stopped right above her knees, long black boots, and her hair was pulled up into a bun with curls framing her face.

“You look beautiful.”

She smiled shyly as she glanced down at her dress, then back to me. Her eyes moved slowly over me before they rested back on my face. “How does one guy look so handsome?”

“It’s the cowboy hat,” I said with a wink.

She chuckled. “I think it is. The black makes your eyes seem…darker.”

“Avery told me to wear the hat. Something about women liking it.”

“She’s a smart girl, you should always listen to her.”

That caused me to toss my head back and let out a hearty laugh. “I think I’m going to ignore that piece of advice.”

Kenzie shrugged. “What’s in your hand? I mean, I see the flowers, which are beautiful.”

Glancing down at the bouquet, I said, “Shit. Right. These are for you, and the apple pie is from my mom.”

When she took the flowers and buried her face in them, my heart tripped over itself. Why would a woman smelling flowers make me feel like a young boy with his first crush?

Her eyes lifted to mine. “The flowers are beautiful. Thank you.”

All I could do was nod and manage a smile.

“Well, we could stay down here and chat with the animals, or we could head on up. I made my specialty.”

“Wow. Then I say let’s head on up and sample your cooking.”

“Come, Pickles, off to bed for you!” Mackenzie said as the goat bounced behind her and went straight to his bed. She did a few circles to the right, then a few to the left, then settled down in the lush bed.

“I swear, sometimes she thinks she’s a dog.”

Glancing at the goat, I chuckled. “Well, she is in a dog bed, so…”

Kenzie nodded in agreement before heading up the steps to her place. I followed and tried like hell not to stare at how amazing she looked in the form-fitting dress.

Once inside her place, I found Mr. Whiskers curled up on the sofa, sleeping peacefully. I set the pie down on the counter and took in the smell of fresh bread baking in the oven.

“I smell bread.”

She grinned. “It’s not homemade, so don’t get all excited. It’s frozen rolls that I found, and they’re amazing.”

I held up my hands. “No judgment here. I usually eat out when I’m on the road, or buy a frozen meal at the store and eat it in my room.”

She crinkled her nose. “Gross.”

Laughing, I said, “Agreed. But some days I’m so tired it’s the best I can do. Sometimes I’ll go to the hotel restaurant, but usually later, when I don’t think anyone will be there. Or order room service.”

She picked up two oven mitts and moved to a large pot of pasta.

“Let me drain that for you.”

Mackenzie stepped aside and looked surprised for a moment before she handed me the Christmas mitts. “Thank you. If you’ll just drain the pasta in the strainer I have in the sink.”

I did as asked and poured the pasta in the strainer. “Spaghetti is your specialty, huh?”

“Yes, but I add a secret touch to it. I promise you’ll be forever changed.”

Laughing, I poured the drained spaghetti back into the pot and put it on the stove. “Do you want oil or butter on the pasta?”

She stopped and stared at me like I’d just announced the world was ending. “Never put oil on the pasta. Not in the water, not on the pasta. No. Just…no. Well, olive oil if you’re literally making the pasta, but never in the water.”

I held up my hands in surrender. “My mistake.”

Pulling the rolls out of the oven, she quickly brushed what looked like melted butter and garlic over the tops.

“Okay, I make my own napoletana, so I hope you like it.”

“Napoletana?” I asked.

“Sauce! My grandmother was Italian and that is what she called it. I make up batches and freeze it.”

“Wow, I can’t wait to taste it.”

“The other secret is mozzarella cheese.”

I raised a brow. “Instead of the parmesan you sprinkle on from the can?”

Her mouth dropped open. “You poor thing. You’ve never experienced the proper way to eat spaghetti.”

I laughed. “I guess not.”

“Trust me, you’ll like it. Wait, you do like cheese, right? Oh my gosh, if you don’t like cheese, then this—”

“Kenzie, I love cheese. It’s all good.”

She let out a relieved breath. “Hand me your plate.”

She took the plate I offered and twirled some noodles in the middle. Then she sliced thin pieces of cheese off a ball of mozzarella and laid it over the pasta. Next, she ladled the sauce—or as she called it, gravy—and poured it over the noodles, and finally took another slice of mozzarella and placed it on top.

She handed it to me and smiled. “You can pepper and salt it to taste, but with the cheese, you might not need any salt.”

I set the plate down and shook some pepper onto the pasta, then reached for a few rolls and added them to the plate.

“Go ahead and take a seat. I have a bottle of wine already open, as well as some water. I wasn’t sure if you liked wine. I also have beer if you want that instead.”

“Wine sounds good to me,” I said, making my way to her table. The apartment wasn’t huge, but it was laid out perfectly, so the small table didn’t feel it crowded the space at all.

“Oh! I forgot I made us some small salads,” she said as she went to the fridge and pulled out two bowls. I walked over and took them from her.

“Italian dressing okay?” she asked, holding up a bottle of what looked like homemade dressing.

“Perfect.” I took it from her and made my way back to the table while she dished up her plate. When she sat, I poured us both a glass of wine, then sat down.

“My grandmother would probably smack me if she saw me putting cheese on the spaghetti like this, but it’s so good. Don’t ask me why I started making it this way, but I’ve been doing it since I was about sixteen.”

I rolled some noodles onto my fork and watched the melted cheese stretch and break apart. Kenzie waited as I took my first bite.

The flavor of the sauce hit the back of my tongue and I moaned in delight. Then the saltiness from the cheese mixed in, the earthy taste of herbs, and the slight bite of acidic tomato, and I was blown away by how good it was. My eyes widened when I looked at her.

“You like it?”

Swallowing, I nodded as I wiped my mouth. “Okay, the sauce, or gravy as you call it, is the most amazing sauce I’ve ever had, Kenzie. My mother is going to need the recipe, I’m telling you right now.”

She nodded in excitement.

“And the addition of the cheese, I have to say…I like it. A lot.”

A wide smile broke out across her beautiful face. “I’m so glad! Everyone looks at me like I’m crazy when I put it on my spaghetti. My sister’s the only other person who loves it this way.”

“Well, now you can add me to the list.”

We ate for a few moments in silence before I asked her if she’d ever been to Italy before.

“No. I’d love to go someday. My father’s mother, my grandmother, was from a town on Lake Garda. It was called Riva del Garda. It looks like a beautiful place from the photos we have of her growing up there. Plus, I follow a page on Instagram. It snowed in the town Grams was from and it looked so romantic.” She smiled and seemed to get lost in a memory before focusing back on me. “Have you been?”

I shook my head and swallowed the bite of roll I’d been chewing. “Never been. I’ve been to France once. Went with my parents to visit Avery. It’s a beautiful country, but I wasn’t a fan of Paris. Too busy and crowded.”

“I bet. I haven’t ever left the country. Not even to go to Canada.”

A part of me wanted to tell her to pack a bag and whisk her away to Italy to visit her grandmother’s hometown. I could do it tomorrow if I wanted to. I had plenty of money in the bank. That was one thing about me; I never spent my money. I had nothing, or no one, to spend it on.

“Did your dad ever go to Italy?”

“He wanted to,” she said softly. “He passed away when I was twelve. My mother ended up marrying his best friend not long after he died. I can’t stand my stepfather. He’s the main reason why I left Georgia. That, and the fact that my mother never stood up to him when…” Her voice trailed off.

“When he what?”

She forced a smile. “Nothing. He was just an asshole, and I’m glad to be far, far away from him and my mother.”

A feeling of sadness washed over me. I couldn’t even imagine not wanting to be near my mother. “So you’re only in contact with your sister?”

She nodded. “Yes. If I could erase the time I spent living under the same roof as my stepfather, I would do it in a heartbeat.”

I could hear the anger and hurt in her voice. “Did he mistreat you?”

Her fork came to an abrupt stop at her mouth and her entire body tensed.

I held up my hand. “Never mind. I’m sorry. It’s none of my business.”

Her eyes met mine, and when I saw tears building, I wanted to physically hurt a man I didn’t know. “It’s okay. I wasn’t prepared for you to ask that, and I…I don’t ever talk about it.”

I reached across the table for her hand. “Hey,” I softly whispered. “Let’s talk about something different, then. Like…do you have vanilla ice cream for the apple pie?”

Relief flooded her features before she laughed. It was a beautiful thing to hear and to see. “I do, as a matter of fact. I’m a sucker for ice cream, so I always have it on hand.”

“My kind of girl.”

We took a few more bites in silence before Kenzie spoke. “Bull riding.”

“Farming. Are we playing a word game?”

Her cheeks blushed as she giggled. “How long can you do something like that? I imagine it takes a toll on your body.”

Nodding, I replied, “It does for sure. There are some guys in their thirties who ride, but most of them retire around then. Some earlier if they’re forced to.”

“Forced to?”

“Injury that keeps them from riding anymore.”

She was quiet for a few moments as she pushed her noodles around on her plate. I already knew what she was thinking. I’d seen plenty of riders break up with their girlfriends or wives because the latter thought they could handle watching their men get tossed around by a bull, but turned out they couldn’t. It almost always ended in a variation of “pick me or the bulls”…and nearly a hundred percent of the time, they picked the bulls.

“Kenzie, I need to ask you something.”

Her head lifted and our eyes met.

“I know we just met, but I think it’s obvious I am insanely attracted to you in more than just a physical way. I really want to get to know you, spend time with you before I head to New York. I’ll be honest and say that I don’t think professional bull riding is something I’m going to continue doing in the future.”

Her brows shot up.

I quickly added, “I haven’t decided on anything yet. But riding is a part of who I am and what I love. It’s a dangerous job and sport. Do you think you can be okay with that?”

Mackenzie dug her teeth into her lower lip. “Are you asking to be my boyfriend after one date, Mr. Littlewood?”

It was my turn to blush. “I am.”

She let out the cutest chuckle.

“But I want to be upfront and honest with you. If I stay on this career path, I can be gone for weeks. I may break bones or be seriously injured.”

Nodding, she wiped the corners of her mouth, set her napkin down, and drew in a long, deep breath. She held it for a bit before exhaling.

Fuck. Here it comes. She wasn’t interested in dating a guy like me.

“If you’re being completely honest, then I need to do the same.”

I closed my eyes and felt her hand on mine.

“Wait, it’s not what you think. I would love to date you, Bradly, regardless of whether you bull ride or train cattle.”

Drawing back in confusion, I asked, “Train cattle?”

She shrugged. “Grow them, raise them, train them, whatever it is cattle ranchers do.”

I laughed and squeezed her hand. “You do know they sell them for beef, right?”

“Of course I do. And milk.”

Forcing myself not to laugh, I nodded. I didn’t have the heart to tell her those were a different type of cattle.

“I haven’t really ever been in a serious or long-term relationship before, so I need you to know that this is totally new for me.”

My eyes widened in shock. “Are you serious? You’re so beautiful… How is it you haven’t been in a long-term relationship?”

She sighed. “Baggage.”

Nodding, I said, “Kenzie, I’ve never been in a committed relationship beyond a couple dates with a girl in high school. I’m totally new at this too.”

“So we’re both new at relationships,” she said with a smile, squeezing my hand. She looked down at the table, then back up at me. “I’ve gone out with a few guys, but none of them were serious. Just dates that went nowhere or had no connection whatsoever.”

She closed her eyes for a long moment and let out a breath before opening them again.

“I have trust issues, I guess you could say.”

Something in her eyes caused my chest to physically ache. She looked worried. Scared, even.

“Kenzie…did something happen to you?”

When her tear-filled eyes met mine, and she slowly nodded, I wanted to tear something—or someone—apart. Instead, I forced myself to stay calm.

“Do you want to tell me what happened?”

“I don’t…well…I don’t talk about it. I mean, I have. Just to a therapist and my sister.”

“It’s okay, sweetheart, you don’t have to tell me anything.”

Her hand came up to her neck and she rubbed it as if recalling something. Then a sob slipped free, and she covered her mouth.

Standing, I gently reached for her and pulled her up and into my arms. “Shhh, you don’t have to say anything.”

Burying her face in my chest, she softly cried.

The intense anger that I felt scared me. I’d only known this woman for a day. One fucking day, and I wanted to wrap her up and keep her close. I never wanted to leave her. Most importantly, I wanted to find the asshole who’d hurt her and kill him with my bare hands.

I held Kenzie for what felt like an eternity, but was more likely just a few minutes or so before easing back a bit. “Come on, let’s go sit on the sofa.”

With her hand in mine, I led her over and sat down. She picked up the cat and held him closer to her as she sat next to me and stared straight ahead.

“I’ve really only ever talked to a therapist back in Georgia about this. And my lawyers, if you want to count them.”

Swallowing the sudden lump in my throat, I tried not to think about the reasons why a twenty-three-year-old woman would need lawyers. “You don’t have to talk about it now.”

She nodded and looked at me. “I know I don’t, but I feel this connection with you, and I want to be honest and open. I want you to know everything about me, and I want to know everything about you, and I guess I just don’t want you to think less of me when I tell you what happened. And if you do…I’d rather know now. Before we get too close.”

My eyes went wide. “I would never think less of you for any reason.” The pounding of my heart in my chest nearly drowned everything else out. What if someone had hurt her badly…raped her? I’d fucking kill them.

I needed to calm down. For both our sakes.

“Kenzie, I don’t care about your past, about any of that. I mean, of course I hate that you were hurt by someone, and I really want to hunt them down and pound their face in.”

She let out a sob-filled laugh.

“But that doesn’t change what I’m feeling right now. And maybe we’re crazy for jumping in like this, but I’ve never felt this way before, and I don’t care if anyone thinks it’s too fast, too foolish, whatever. If you want to tell me, I’m here to listen. But I won’t pressure you for anything until you’re ready.”

Her shoulders relaxed. “I want to be with you. I think I wanted it the moment I threatened you with the broom last night and you smiled at me in amusement. I’m just afraid. I know my worth, Bradly. I know what happened wasn’t my fault. But I still feel guilty for running.”

“Running?”

She nodded. “Leaving my mother, my sister, the state of Georgia. I feel like I’ve been running since I turned eighteen.” Her head dropped forward, and she cleared her throat. “My stepfather started to hit my mother just a few months after they got married.”

I stiffened.

“When my father died, a part of my mother did as well. Hell, a part of me did. My stepdad swooped in and promised Mom he’d take care of her and us girls. And we adored George when he was my dad’s best friend. He was always kind to us, brought us presents, played hide and seek.

“Mom wasn’t struggling financially after my father passed…or at least, she shouldn’t have been. But right away, she started spending money like it was growing on trees. I remember once, hearing some guy telling her if she didn’t stop soon, there’d be nothing left. Then George came into the picture. Made all his promises. And he did take care of us financially, but I think he was so consumed with jealousy that we loved my father so much, even after his death, that he turned into someone we didn’t recognize. Or maybe it’s who he was all along…I don’t know.

“He told my mother he wanted us to call him Daddy, and she laughed. That was the first time he yelled at her and started calling her all these names. Worthless, damaged goods, things like that. The first time he physically hit her was just a few weeks later, when he saw her standing in the hallway, looking at a picture of my father. He grabbed it off the wall and threw it against the floor. She made the mistake of saying he was acting crazy. He slapped her so hard, I swear I can still hear it in my ears.”

She paused for a minute or two, wrapping her arms around herself tightly.

“She stumbled back and fell. I ran over to make sure she was okay, and he grabbed me by the hair and pulled me away from her. I could hear my sister Emily crying.”

“Kenzie,” I whispered, taking her hand in mine.

“I was positive my mother would kick him out for how he’d treated us that day. Afterward, he’d brought me to my room and locked me in, not allowing me out for supper. My mother came in hours later to say good night. I thought for sure she would’ve brought me food, but she just stared at me with this blank look on her face. I was fourteen at the time. I asked her if he was leaving, and she said no. He’d apparently apologized and said it would never happen again. But it did. Again and again and again.

“He never did hit Emily, but he yelled at her a lot. She learned to stay out of his crosshairs and kept to herself in her room, or stayed at friends’ houses. I, on the other hand, couldn’t learn to keep my mouth shut. When he went after my mother, I always tried to stop him. He was good at hiding bruises. No one ever saw the marks he left.

“I hated him so much…and eventually started to hate my mother for letting it happen. She told me she needed him, because she had no money and no job experience. She couldn’t touch the money my father had left in trusts for me and my sister. Not that she and George didn’t try. Him, especially. The night before my eighteenth birthday, I left in the middle of the night. I found an apartment the very next day, since I was able to access my trust when I turned eighteen. I hated leaving Emily behind, and I felt so guilty, but his hatred for me just grew and grew. One time, he grabbed me by the throat, and I thought for sure he was going to kill me. I knew the second I could access my money, he’d do anything to get it.”

Kenzie wiped her tears from her cheeks, and I felt my body tremble with anger. I wanted to pull her onto my lap and hold her, but I knew I had to let her get everything out.

“I went to a lawyer to see if I could get custody of Emily. She’s only a year younger than I am, and I thought if she was seventeen, she might be able to leave and come live with me. I told them everything that happened in the house. My mother accused me of lying, said I was just mad at her for marrying someone. She said really terrible things about me to the social worker who’d gone to the house to investigate my claims of abuse. Told them I’d made their lives a living hell. That I slept around, had gotten pregnant and gotten rid of the baby—which wasn’t true. She even tried to say I wanted control of Emily’s inheritance.

“Once they interviewed Emily, though, they knew my mother was lying. Emily eventually ended up staying with me or her best friend more than she stayed at home. It drove my mother nuts, and she constantly called the police to report Emily as a runaway. It got so bad that they actually told my mother if she made one more false claim, she’d be thrown in jail. It was all such a nightmare.”

“Why would your mother do that?” I asked.

She shrugged. “My therapist suggested Mom was so dependent on my father, she most likely suffered intense guilt for not being able to take care of us and needing George. Not protecting my sister and me from him most likely made it worse. She said in situations like that, it’s often easier for people like Mom to make up stories about us being the bad ones, in order to justify her own behavior. She’d rather believe a lie than the truth.”

I slowly shook my head.

“Anyway…George and my mother showed up at my apartment one night, looking for Emily. She wasn’t there that night, thank God. She spent more time at her best friend’s house than anywhere else. George threatened me, said if I didn’t give them more money, he was going to make me pay one way or another. Evidently, the five hundred I sent every month wasn’t enough. I only sent that because of Emily. I told him to leave, and that he’d never see another dime of my father’s money. He went nuts and punched me. Over and over again.”

“That motherfucker!”

“My mother was screaming at me to just give them some money and they’d leave. My neighbor called 911. The police came and arrested him. I pressed charges and had my lawyer file a restraining order against them both, and I stopped sending them money. I lived in constant fear after that, though. I always felt like I was looking over my shoulder.

“He got out of jail pretty quick…friends in high places and all of that. I knew that since I wasn’t sending them money, George could take it out on Emily, but thankfully he didn’t. As soon as she graduated high school, Emily moved out and stayed with me until she left for college in New York. She wanted to go to a school as far away from Georgia as she could. That’s where she met Doug.”

Mackenzie ran her hand along the back of her neck. “The money from my father was enough to pay for my college tuition and the apartment I lived in. I worked all throughout school, because I knew I’d need money to one day get away from Georgia. I was headhunted during my senior year to work for the state. I started part time, and I saved all of the money from that, as well, transitioning to full time after graduation.

“Then…a friend of mine told me about the position on the farm here…and I applied. I’m just grateful that your mom and uncle gave me a shot. It was my true escape. My mother and stepfather have no idea where I am, and I want to keep it that way. They’re still in contact with Emily. She tries to have limited conversations with my mother, but she does call her every now and then. Sometimes she’ll ask about me, but not often. Emily always tells them she has no idea where I am, but I’m sure they know she’s lying.”

“Your sister doesn’t have a restraining order against them as well?” I asked.

She shook her head. “No. Asshat has never laid a hand on her. I don’t really know why. I’m glad he hasn’t—trust me. But it’s never made any sense to me. For a while, I thought maybe Emily was his real daughter. That maybe my mother cheated on my father. I talked her into doing the DNA test through Ancestry, and thank goodness I proved that theory wrong.”

Shrugging, she added, “I’m so thankful he never hurt Emily.” Then, turning to me, she said, “The day my mother and George came to my apartment, when he was hell-bent on most likely killing me, do you know what my mother said to me as they were taking him away in handcuffs?”

I slowly shook my head, not sure I wanted to hear. Though, I didn’t think my heart could possibly break any more.

I was wrong.

“She told me how lucky I was that he hadn’t killed me. But if he had, I would have deserved it—because I wouldn’t give her the money to leave him. Imagine that. She was making me her excuse for staying with a monster.”

Sitting up straight, she wiped a tear away. “That’s the reason I left Georgia and came to Montana. I was running from a past that I desperately want to forget. And the worst part is, I hope I never lay eyes on my own mother again. Does that make me a bad person?”

“No. God no, Kenzie.” My stomach lurched, just knowing she thought that way.

Kenzie exhaled. “I don’t know what to think about my mother, and my feelings for her and what she allowed to happen to me. A few years of therapy couldn’t answer most of my questions, either. I knew I needed to leave Georgia and get as far away from them as I could. They don’t know where I am, or at least, I don’t think they do.” She looked up and into my eyes. “So, you see, I have a lot of baggage with me, Bradly. Are you sure you want to deal with that?”

I reached for her, and she slid onto my lap. Pushing a strand of hair behind her ear, I said, “I’m sorry you had to go through all of that. I wish I had the power to change your past. But I’m not sorry it brought you to Montana, and to me. And yes, I want every part of you. The good, the bad…all of it, Kenzie. Most of all, I really want to kiss you again.”

Her hand came up to my face. “I would really, really like that.”

I kissed her forehead, then the tip of her nose, before gently touching her mouth in a soft kiss. “I know it was hard to tell me that. Thank you for trusting me. Now, let me make you forget for a little while.”

She ran her finger along my jaw. “And how exactly do you plan on making me forget?”

“First, I’ll hold you close. Then, I’ll kiss you until neither of us can remember where we are. Then, I’ll hold you close again. After that, well…that’s up to you.”

A soft breath escaped her lips. “Are you a dream?”

My hand moved to the back of her neck, and I leaned in closer. Right before our lips met, I whispered, “If this is a dream, I don’t ever want to wake up.”

Kenzie pushed her hands through my hair as our mouths connected. It was slow and soft. I let her lead the way. When she bit gently on my lower lip, I opened to her, and she deepened the kiss. Our tongues danced leisurely at first. She tugged on my hair, pulling my head back and opening my mouth to her even more. We both moaned as Mackenzie took what she wanted, and I freely gave it to her.

I could feel my dick pressing into her, and I knew we needed to slow down. We were moving at lightning speed, and I wanted to do things the right way with her. She was different. She was special in a way I couldn’t put into words.

I was about to gently push her away when her cell phone rang. Mackenzie tore her mouth from mine and we both dragged in air.

“It’s my sister,” she said as she climbed off me and went to grab her phone. Drawing in a deep breath, she swept her finger across the screen. “Emily.”

I couldn’t help but smile. She sounded out of breath and her lips were swollen from our kiss.

“No, no, well, yes. I’m, well… I’m, you see…I’m…on a date.”

The sound of a woman screaming came through the phone, and I laughed. Mackenzie rolled her eyes and mouthed the word sorry to me.

“No, I’m not lying. We met yesterday. Yes, on Christmas, and we’ve had two dates…well, maybe it’s just one big, long date.”

I stood and made my way over to the table to start cleaning it off. Mackenzie covered the phone.

“No! I’ve got that.”

With a shake of my head, I replied, “You cook, I clean.”

Her eyes sparkled with desire. Did me cleaning a few dishes turn her on? I’d have to make a mental note of that.

“How have we had one long date? Um, well, Bradly took me out to lunch, then I got to see what he does for a living, and then I invited him over for dinner.”

I could barely hear the chattering of another woman as I busied myself rinsing a dish and putting it in the dishwasher.

“Yes, I made spaghetti.”

Glancing over my shoulder, I gave her a questioning look. She shrugged and whispered, “Okay, it’s all I really know how to make. Well, I can boil eggs. And make scrambled eggs. Oh, and French toast. No, I’m here, Em, I’m listening.”

She soon wandered off and into her bedroom. Her voice was muffled, and I was positive her sister had a million-and-one questions. I wasn’t sure if it would be rude to look through her cupboards for something to put the leftovers in, so I left the spaghetti and sauce in the pans and finished cleaning off the table. I saw where Kenzie got the plates from, so I opened that cabinet and found two smaller plates for the pie.

After cutting a couple slices, I placed them on the other counter near the microwave. Next, I found two bowls and decided to wait on finding an ice cream scoop. I had a feeling Mackenzie valued her privacy, and I wanted to respect that.

Still hearing her on the phone, I pulled out my own cell phone and pulled up my father’s number. I was struggling to process everything that had happened today, and especially in the last few minutes, with everything Mackenzie had shared about her past.

How could a mother allow someone to hurt her own children? Or say such horrible things about them? I couldn’t wrap my head around it. I’d grown up in a completely different world. My mother and father would rather die before letting anyone hurt their kids. And the love Avery and I had received from the Shaw family was out of this world. They had always made us feel like we were family. My heart ached for Mackenzie and her sister.

Running a hand through my hair, I sighed. Would it be wrong of me to talk to my father about it? I really needed to ask Mackenzie how much of her story I could share with my parents. Shit. They were her bosses, and she had yet to give anyone any reason why she’d moved to Montana.

No, it wasn’t my place to say anything. I shoved the phone back into my pocket.

“I’m so sorry.”

I spun around and saw her standing there, looking like a beautiful angel. She was so breathtaking, I struggled to inhale. She had changed into sweatpants and a long-sleeve University of Georgia T-shirt.

“I hope you don’t mind, I got comfortable.”

“Don’t mind at all. Did you get to catch up with your sister?”

Her cheeks turned red. “She had a lot of questions. I think she’s surprised by how much I like you and how quickly it’s happened.”

I nodded. “I can understand that.”

“She’s for sure coming for New Year’s Eve now with her fiancé, because she said she has to meet the man who’s made her older sister lose her mind.”

Laughing, I said, “I can’t wait to meet them.”

Mackenzie started to chew on her thumbnail and look around nervously. I walked up to her, took her hand in mine, and leaned down to look her in the eyes.

“I don’t care about your past. Okay?”

She nodded.

“The only thing I care about is right now, in this moment. You and me. And that you’re not scared off by me riding bulls.”

“I’m okay with it. I mean, I think I’ll worry, but that’s only natural.”

“I think when you feel something like this, your instinct is to not let it go.”

“Yes, I think that’s true.”

“Kenzie, before we step away from your past…are you seeing a therapist here?”

Her eyes lost some of the light that had come back into them, and I wondered if I shouldn’t have asked.

“Lou told me about the place your uncle Brock has in Hamilton. I guess I’m easy to read.”

I held onto her hand and gave it a soft squeeze. “I think when people care for one another, they sense things.”

“Maybe so,” she agreed. “Talking to you about it helped more than I thought it would. I don’t feel like I’m keeping this huge secret any longer. But I agree, I think talking to someone, maybe someone new, might be a good thing. Especially since this crazy good-looking cowboy came into my life and has completely turned it upside down.”

“What a jerk,” I said as I gave her a wicked smile.

She drew her bottom lip between her teeth, and I felt my dick instantly go hard.

“Kenzie, I need you to know something else.”

Taking a step closer to me, she asked, “What’s that?”

“You’re in charge of how fast we move.”

She paused and tilted her head. “What do you mean?”

I cleared my throat. “I mean, earlier on the sofa, if your sister hadn’t called, I’m not sure how far we would have gone. But I want you to know I’ll go as slow as you want.”

A sexy smile spread across her face as she lifted onto her toes, sliding her hand behind my neck.

“Will eight seconds be slow enough?” she asked, before our mouths met in a kiss that felt even more devastating than the last.

Call me a damn fool, but I was positive in that moment, twenty-four hours after meeting Mackenzie Reeves, I fell head over heels in love.