CHAPTER EIGHT
Even through the thick protection of my helmet, the wind calls to me like an escape. If only it were real. Byron Benson has me trapped. I’m pissed at myself for allowing it, but my circumstances left me in a tight spot. Now doubt and loathing plague me at every turn.
My Harley roars as I crank the throttle for more speed. A thrill shoots up my spine. This is what I call therapy. Miles pass in a blur until the drop in temperature chases me back to town.
Lights along Main Street guide me to one of the only places still open at this hour. After dinner, Byron was gracious enough to let me leave the confines of his ranch. I’m staying out until exhaustion demands otherwise.
A swanky country song is playing as I park along the curb in front of The Paddock.
Warmth welcomes me when I step inside the Western-themed bar.
The stares and whispers aren’t as friendly.
I smirk at the Saturday evening crowd. The people of Cloverleaf Meadows aren’t my biggest fans.
These fine folks will just have to choke on their judgment.
It’s dark enough to lurk in the shadows, but I’m not afraid to be the center of attention.
I strut straight for an open stool with my confidence held high.
Cold shoulders surround me like walls of ice.
Unfortunately for them, I’m a born and raised Minnesotan who’s built to handle a frigid atmosphere.
I’m also an expert at binge-scrolling Reels and TikTok to pass the time. My thumb swipes up at a steady pace as I wait for the bartender to acknowledge me. A clip from one of my favorite reality shows plays, stalling the mindless loop and brightening my mood.
“Hey, stranger.”
I startle at the greeting and swivel to confront the voice. Recognition smoothes my features into a wary grin. “Paisley. Hi.”
The blonde who helped me throw together an impromptu wedding for Bianca and Colton doesn’t hesitate to plop herself on the stool next to mine. “Surprised to see me?”
“I’m surprised you’re talking to me.”
“Ooooh, why?” She leans in as if we’re about to share a secret. “Did you do something bad?”
“Depends who you ask, but that’s not my concern. You’re putting your spotless reputation at risk just being near me.”
She tips her head back and laughs. Several people glance over at us, probably assuming I spiked her drink. Humor brightens Paisley’s gaze when she refocuses on me.
“Don’t you remember who I’m married to?” Her wedding ring catches the light and almost blinds me.
I shield my face. “Watch where you’re pointing that thing. Gonna poke someone’s eye out.”
“It’s a bit over the top,” she muses.
“Brody is many things, but subtle isn’t one of them.” My gaze slides to where the man in question is causing a scene just by standing against the wall.
Paisley follows my focus and sighs, a dreamy smile curving her lips. “Can’t take him anywhere.”
I flinch when a bartender appears out of nowhere and sets two cocktails in front of us. “Umm…?”
“Thanks, Ty.” Paisley wiggles her fingers at the man still hovering. “Glad to see my sparkly reputation remains intact, regardless of who I order for.”
“Thank your husband for me.” He knocks on the counter and wanders off.
I haven’t had a sip of alcohol, but my mind is spinning. “What did Brody do?”
Paisley shrugs, lifting her glass in his direction. “Probably padded the guy’s pockets to make sure our drinks are never empty.”
“Only one way to find out,” I mumble while lifting the cocktail for closer inspection. “What’s in this?”
She blinks at me. “It’s an espresso martini.”
My mouth waters from the name alone. “Been meaning to try one.”
Her jaw goes slack. “You’ve never had an espresso martini?”
“They’re not on the menu at my typical dives. And if they were, I wouldn’t order one there.”
“Well, you came to the right place tonight. The Paddock makes the best I’ve ever had.”
I take an undignified swig, making sure to lick some chocolate powder from the rim. The explosion of flavors almost makes me choke. Sweet, rich, creamy, and strong. It’s everything I love about coffee with an added kick that makes me moan.
“Holy shit,” I breathe.
“Told you.” Paisley’s smug tone is well deserved.
My finger twirls in the air. “Keep ‘em comin’.”
She does a happy-dance on her seat. “We’re gonna be besties in no time.”
Espresso martini spews from my mouth in a terrible waste. “Never gonna happen,” I croak.
The bubbly blonde rears back, looking wounded. “Brat.”
I mop up the mess I made on my leather jacket. “No offense. We’re just from very different worlds.”
“So?” She rolls her eyes, settling on my phone. “What’re you watching?”
I shift my gaze to where the same clip is still playing on repeat. “It’s a scene from The Challenge.”
She takes a closer look. “I’ve seen this one.”
“Really?”
“Don’t sound so shocked. CT is my ultimate crush.”
I gasp. “Same! I love him and his dad-bod.”
“And the seasons with Diem,” she sighs. “I’ll never get over it.”
“Me either.” My nose burns and I sniff. “I’ve robbed people and threatened bodily harm without an ounce of remorse, but their tragic love story slays me.”
She’s nodding along as if we’re cut from the same cloth. “See? We have more in common than you think.”
That gets a smile out of me. “A mutual infatuation with CT is bonding material.”
“Not to mention we’re both living with Benson men.” She nudges me and I stiffen.
“Not by choice.”
“Byron can’t keep you against your will.”
“That’s what you think.” I scoop up my drink and take a healthy swallow.
Paisley scoots her stool toward me until our shoulders touch. “Do you want to talk about it?”
The weight of isolation slams down on me. I struggle to pull in a full breath. It’s been a long damn time since I’ve confided in someone.
I’m not sure I can rely on her, but I could use an ally. Concern and understanding shine in her blue eyes. That type of inner compassion is hard to fake.
“Long story short, I feel forced into this nanny position.”
She makes a sound low in her throat. “I know a thing or two about getting caught in a trap.”
Which refers to the arrangement Brody proposed when he needed a wife to secure ownership of Benson Farmstead.
“But that worked out for you,” I argue while tossing a look at her devoted husband. The man can’t take his eyes off her.
“Eventually. The beginning was rough.”
“My shit-uation isn’t like that. Byron is holding me hostage for his daughter. He’d never speak to me otherwise. I’d never stick around if it weren’t for her either. It’s painfully obvious I don’t belong there. Whatever Ronnie sees in me is fleeting. I just have to wait it out.”
Paisley purses her lips. “It’s not that simple. Ronnie has been going through a lot lately. There’s something about you specifically that’s significant to her. I doubt she’s going to get over it that easily.”
“Which is why I’ve agreed to stick around.”
“You don’t sound too thrilled about it.”
“I don’t belong,” I repeat and wave at our surroundings.
“Who told you that?”
“It’s a known fact. I’m bad news and shouldn’t be trusted to care for a child.”
“Ronnie disagrees,” Paisley is quick to reply.
“She’s just a kid. Her opinion shouldn’t hold that much power.”
She shrugs. “He’d do anything to make her happy.”
A heavy sigh hunches my shoulders. “Yeah, I’m aware.”
A lull that’s thick with conflicted emotions slides between us until Paisley speaks. “Do you want out?”
That gives me pause, which is terrifying. That little girl already has a tight hold on me. Just thinking about leaving her makes me feel queasy. But I also loathe Byron. For numerous reasons. Unfortunately, the combination of those aren’t enough to send me packing.
“I’m gonna ride it out until Ronnie comes to her senses.”
Paisley grins, clearly pleased with my decision. “Maybe this is your chance to take a new lease on life.”
“Maybe.” But my tone lacks conviction.
“Why not? If you’re not going anywhere, you might as well make the most of it.”
“We’ll see,” I hedge.
“Are you dating anyone?”
I choke on my martini for the third time. “Stuck in this town? Absolutely not. Besides, I have more trust issues than a psychologist would know what to do with.”
“Single and not ready to mingle,” she breathes a laugh. “You’ve been through a lot.”
“That’s putting it mildly.” But those traumatic skeletons are part of me.
Paisley’s smile is warm. “I’m serious about being friends. It isn’t just because we happened to be at the same bar or that you’re Colton’s cousin. We can meet for coffee and gush about CT.”
I’m already nodding. “Two of my favorite things.”
“How do you feel about Project Runway and Survivor?”
“Oh, my gosh.” I slap the bar. “Quit flirting with me, woman. You’re married.”
The gawking from our fellow patrons cranks up a notch as she giggles loudly. “Okay, fine. I’ll cool it. But we’re totally doing this.”
My head bobs again while I warm up to the idea of having her in my corner. “All right, thanks.”
Her brow furrows. “For what?”
“Just… whatever.” I motion to my drink for starters. “This might come as a shock, but I haven’t had many friends.”
“Bianca can vouch that I’m a pretty good one.”
“I believe it.”
“Glad that’s settled.” She lifts her glass to mine.
A resounding clink follows, announcing my agreement. “Cheers.”
We finish our cocktails just as the bartender drops off a fresh round. I snort while Paisley blows a kiss at her husband. Brody is still guarding her from a distance, plastered to the wall like it’s his job.
The blonde who’s weaseling her way under my defenses slides off her seat. “I have to pee. Will you be okay here alone?”
Disbelief sputters from my lips. “Um, yeah. I think I can manage.”
Before I can reach for my phone to resume scrolling, a cagey voice crackles from right behind me. “Thought I recognized you.”
My hackles rise as I peer over my shoulder. The man is probably middle-aged, but appears older. The glint in his eyes is too familiar, like a sharp edge received from a tough life.
“Can’t say the same,” I tell him.
“You were part of James Keller’s group.”
Old habits flow through me to harden my tone. “Not sure what you’re talking about.”
He wags a gnarled finger in my face. “Can’t fool me. You stick out like a sore thumb.”
That’s when a large figure materializes from the shadows. “Is there a problem here?”
My spine snaps straight at the authority in Brody’s appearance. “Nope.”
But then I realize the grumpy cowboy’s gaze is fixed on the man standing next to me. He must sense the danger closing in and shrinks back.
“Just having a word with Frankie,” he mumbles.
My eyes widen. I never told him my name. The upset must reflect in my features because Brody’s glower turns lethal.
“And now you’re done,” he tells the stranger. “I suggest you leave before I show you the door.”
The guy doesn’t need to be told twice. He tucks tail and weaves his way toward the exit like a pest about to get squashed.
Paisley chooses that moment to return, glancing from her husband to me. “What did I miss?”
“Nothing,” I blurt.
Rather than call me out, Brody stays silent. An upward glance freezes me on the spot. I fight the urge to squirm under his scrutiny. He doesn’t relent, forcing me to explain more than I usually would.
“It’s just my past trying to catch up to me. Don’t worry about it.”
Her eyes narrow on me. “Are you worried about it?”
“No,” I scoff. But that’s a bigger lie than my qualifications as a nanny, not that I’d ever admit it.
“Okay…” Paisley doesn’t sound convinced as she reclaims her stool.
Brody doesn’t go back to his darkened post. The wall of muscle sticks close to his wife, wrapping a protective arm around her waist. Can’t say I blame him.
Trouble still clings to me like a parasite.