Chapter 10
Ex’s hoarse, hollow.
I didn’t have a moral leg to stand on, but I couldn’t stomach the thought of being that guy.
The one who sleeps with a married woman and doesn’t care.
I couldn’t be my father. Even if walking away from her now would shatter something I didn’t have a name for.
It was supposed to be just sex. But she listened.
She let me talk. About dreams and pain and broken family shit.
She didn’t flinch when I told her about my mom or my brothers.
She didn’t bat an eye when I said I wanted to build a rose garden or swap the fireplace for a log burner because Gunner still had nightmares about losing his horse in a stable fire. She didn’t run. She stayed.
“We shouldn’t be,” she growled, her voice thick with heat as her eyes cut to Declan. “I left you the papers to sign, Declan. Why haven’t you?”
“Divorce papers?” I asked. Dumb question maybe, but I needed to hear it.
“Yes, divorce papers,” she bit out. “My lawyer said you still haven’t signed them. Why?”
“Wasn’t sure it was what you really wanted,” he said with a lazy wink that made my blood boil.
I wanted to knock that smug expression clean off his face.
My gaze dragged over him, every expensive thread, every polished inch. But it wasn’t the clothes that made me itch. It was the way he looked at her. Like she belonged to him. Like he knew every curve, every scar, every sound she made when she came.
Had he seen the three freckles at the top of her heart-shaped ass?
Run his finger over the tiny scar on her forearm?
Did he know her favorite nail polish was fire truck red and that she could drink beer like a cowboy but was a lightweight when it came to champagne?
That she hummed Chris Stapleton when she thought no one was listening?
That when she laughed hard enough to cry, she covered her face like she was afraid to be seen?
Had he even made her laugh so hard she snorted?
“I think the fact that she’s been living here for seven months probably gives you the answer to that,” I snapped, jaw clenched so tight it ached.
“And you are?” he asked, giving me a once-over like I was dirt under his hand-made shoes. “Do you work here with Tallulah?”
“He’s—” Tally started, but I didn’t let her finish.
“This is my ranch,” I cut in, heat pulsing behind my ears. “Brownie works with my brother, which means she’s under my protection. Test that theory if you’re feeling lucky.”
She blinked fast at the mention of her nickname. That hit her soft but deep. Call me a dog. Call me territorial. But I was staking my claim, and I didn’t give a damn who saw it. She wasn’t just any woman. She was the one who made me believe I could be something more.
It landed. His face pinched, unsure of what it meant, but certain it mattered. He wasn’t just visiting. He was calculating. Measuring me. Measuring us.
A sudden bark cracked the air, and Dorcas, Bertie’s gangly, soft as mash potato puppy came barreling around the side of the house like a canine cannonball. Her ears flopped, her tongue lolled, and her fur glistened with morning dew.
“Damn it, Dorcas,” I muttered, bracing.
“She got out again.” Tally crouched, her arms wide, her voice full of unfiltered affection. “Hey, Dorcas, you naughty girl. What are you doing out here?”
“She keeps pushing out through the back porch screen,” I muttered. “Nash swore he fixed it. Guess not.”
Dorcas trotted right past Tally and went straight for Declan. Sniffed his shoes. Then his pants. Then smeared a fat line of dog slobber down his expensive khakis.
He hissed and flinched like she was a rabid raccoon. “Go away,” he muttered. “Damn dog.”
Tally’s eyes darkened. She picked Dorcas up and cradled her to her chest like she was something precious.
“Her name is Dorcas,” she said, voice like steel, her back now fully turned on her visitor. “I’ll take her to Ruth in the office.”
My gaze slid to Declan again. My pulse thundered in my ears. His eyes were on her, assessing her like she was a number on a spreadsheet.
“You should stay and deal with this,” I said, too sharply, voice lined with things I didn’t understand yet. My stomach churned; a landslide of feelings I didn’t have room for.
It was supposed to be just sex. So why did it feel like someone had shoved a goddamn boulder into my throat?
I reached for Dorcas. “I’ll take her back to the house.”
“There’s nothing to deal with,” she insisted, brushing hair from her cheek. “He just needs to sign the divorce papers so I can be rid of him.”
“Tallulah.”
“Her name is fucking Tally,” I hissed, spinning on my heel. “Deal with him. Then get back to work. This is a ranch, not marriage guidance counseling.”
I stalked away. Every step burned. I didn’t know what scorched more, seeing that asshole on my land... Or knowing she mattered. Not just under me. Not just in my bed. Feeling her in my bones, my blood, in every breath I took.
But everywhere. She was the thing I looked for at the end of every day. The reason my mornings felt a little less heavy. I didn’t know when it had started, but I knew I’d feel it when it ended.
As I threw the hammer into the toolbox, the clang echoed, sharp and hollow, like it knew I was trying to bury something louder inside.
“She get out again?” Nash’s voice rumbled behind me, rough like gravel and amusement.
I scowled over my shoulder. The air was thick with disgruntled unease. “The sooner she’s not too stupid to be around the horses, the better.”
“She can come with me tomorrow, I’m going to start clearing stuff from the barn ready for the upgrade.
” He crouched down and Dorcas, that little golden menace, rolled onto her back like butter wouldn’t melt, paws in the air, belly up, tongue lolling in joy.
“She’ll be good. Lily and Bertie just worry too much about her. ”
I watched as Nash rubbed her belly with practiced ease. Dorcas whined in delight, tail thumping against the wood floor like a slow drumbeat.
She was going to be massive. Her paws were already huge. A walking tornado of mischief and joy. Too smart for her own good since she’d figured out how to break free from the house almost every day.
“What’s with the pissy mood, anyway?” Nash asked, still kneeling, one brow raised.
“Who says I’m in a pissy mood?”
He stood up, full height casting a long shadow across the porch. “The way you threw that hammer into the box. “He tapped his cheek. “And the frown lines. And the pulse thing you get in your left cheek. That one’s always a tell.”
I flipped the lid of the toolbox closed with a metallic snap. Didn’t meet his eyes. Didn’t need to. I knew what he’d look like, calm, patient, annoyingly perceptive.
Nash had that look like he could see through skin to bone. He didn’t poke. He waited. Brooded. Let silence do the work.
And it was doing it now. The back porch felt cavernous. Like the walls were pressing in, waiting for me to talk.
“I know you, little brother,” he said finally. His voice was lower now, steady. “I know that look. Even if we don’t get to see it often.”
He leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed. His stare was unflinching, but not unkind.
“Seriously, I’m fine.” The lie tasted sour. “Could’ve done without chasing the Great Houdini.”
“And I call bullshit.” His voice carried a quiet warning. “It takes more than the dog escaping to set you off. You’re the same guy who shrugged when Billy took a shit in your new sneakers.”
“They’re just sneakers. And they came out fine after Lily put them in the washer.”
He grinned. “Still. My point stands.”
I tried to deflect. “Besides, Billy was only doing what you’ve been begging him to do, go potty, not drop grenades in his diaper.”
Nash exhaled a short laugh, but didn’t drop it. He crossed the floor, his boots a slow, deliberate rhythm against the wood.
“So what?” he pushed. “You just got out of the wrong side of the bed?”
I didn’t answer.
“Whose bed was it?” He tilted his head.
The silence throbbed.
My hand pressed against my sternum, fingers digging into the fabric of my shirt. I couldn't seem to pull in a full breath, like someone had wrapped wire around my ribs and kept twisting. “My own bed, if you must know,” I said finally.
He didn’t smirk. Didn’t poke.
I could feel him watching me, pulling the truth out like a splinter.
“Would this pissy mood have anything to do,” he asked carefully, “with the hideous fucking car parked outside?”
The breath left me like a gut punch. My heart jolted against my ribs, and heat bloomed in my chest, bitter and alive.
My fingers curled into fists. I rubbed at my chest, the spot that always ached when emotions got too loud.
“Tally’s husband, apparently.”
Nash let out a laugh, low and deep one of those that rolled through his body. “Well, damn. My wife. She was fucking right again.”
“What?” I looked down, jaw locked, flexing my fingers at my side.
“I think you know. But you don’t want me to say it.”
He pushed off the doorframe and pointed a finger at me.
“Don’t do anything that makes Gunner want to punch you in the nuts. She’s incredible at her job, and if he loses her, he’s going to be a whole new level of pissed.”
“Why do you both always think I’m the one who’s going to fuck things up?”
The words came out fast, louder than I meant. The porch soaked up the heat of it.
Nash stepped forward and caught my forearm.
“That’s not what we think.”
I yanked my arm back, frustration buzzing under my skin. “Yes, it is. You think I’m just some fuckboy who wrecks hearts and treats women like disposable things.”
“No.” His voice was low, clear. Certain. “That’s not true. We know how big your heart is, Wild.” He moved closer. His gaze locked to mine, all steady gravity. “We know how much love you have in that soul of yours.”
He squeezed my shoulder, grounding me.
“I don’t think you’ll break her heart. I worry she might break yours.”
I swallowed, hard. The porch, the whole house, was too quiet.
“Mom left a hole in all of us,” he said. “But you… between her death and Dad being a complete dick? It blew you wide open. And I just want you to protect what’s left. Whatever’s still tender.”
He stepped back, giving me space again.
“And if she hurts you…” he added, “Gunner’s going to want to fire her. Which would suck. But I’ll support it. Then Gunner will punch you in the nuts.”
Classic Nash, blunt, honest, and already walking away.
“Come on, Dorcas,” he called with a whistle. “Let’s go, sweetness.”
Dorcas stretched, yawned, then padded after him like she was the most innocent thing on earth. Tail wagging. Tongue lolling.
I stood there, alone with the silence and the ache that came with it. And maybe, just maybe…my brother was right. If Nash could see it, if he knew what Tally meant to me maybe I wasn’t as lost as I thought. But Tallulah Brown had the power to break me, and I didn’t know if I could stop her.