Chapter 16
Betty
My heart hammers in my chest. What just happened?
With Nash, I don’t know whether to go left or right, up or down. He reels me in and casts me out to sea again when he sees fit, and my stupid heart falls for it every time.
I can’t catch my breath as I lean against the barn wall, my hand clutched to my chest.
“Betty?” Ward’s voice startles me, my feet leaping a solid foot off the ground as he comes into view.
Irreversible sadness lives in his eyes, his jaw muscles flexing under the stubble as he draws closer to me.
Tugging his cowboy hat off his head, he comes to a stop in front of me, rolling his lips before he speaks again. “Are you in love with him?”
“What?” I breathe, my eyes darting side to side as if that will hide my obvious reaction. “With who?” An unnecessary question when I know he means Nash.
His booted feet bring him closer, the scent of hay and dirt wafting up my nostrils.
A smell I’ve grown used to spending so much time here at the ranch.
It’s become a comfort. I’d thought it was because of Ward, but now I’m not so sure.
“Betty, I really like you. I do.” His fingers wrap around mine.
“But if you don’t want this… if you want him… I’ll accept it.”
“There’s nothing going on between Nash and me.” My words release as a whine. A tenor that even I would usually wince at. “I promise you.” My fingers squeeze his, hoping my words are convincing enough, even though my heart is shouting what a liar I am.
I do really like Ward, too. We’ve had so much fun together, and he’s helped me separate myself from Nash, at least on a surface level.
There’s nothing between Nash and me but a few stolen moments and decades of my life pining after a man who decides when and how he wants me. I didn’t quite lie about that.
“I heard everything.” He releases my hand, taking a step away. Devastation draws at his features, his eyes turning glassy as if he actually might cry.
“Ward, I swear.” I step toward him, but he once again moves out of my reach.
“Betty, I wanna believe you. I wanna just go back twenty minutes to when we were so happy, and we were kissing like a pair of teenagers, but…”
“Ward, please.” I’ve never begged a man to want me. Not even Nash and I loathe that I am now. But part of me believes he might be the only way that I can let go of my childhood crush.
“You need to decide who and what you want. I won’t be with someone who doesn’t want me the way I want them. Once you know who you want, let me know.” Dejection coats his words as he turns on his heel, drops his hat on his head, and walks away.
For the second time in so many minutes, I’m stuck here, wondering what the hell just happened?
Nash gave me an ultimatum.
Then Ward broke up with me.
Can I even call it that when we never made anything official? Do people still call it that in their thirties?
Shaking my head, I suck in a ragged breath before pushing off the wall.
With every step away from the barn, my emotions war between heartbreak—again—and anger.
Not just with Nash for starting this whole mess, but myself for not being able to tell him to get lost, and Ward for not believing I want to be with him.
That wasn’t what he asked you, Betty, I chide myself as I stomp back to the Miller house. I need a shower, some tea, and maybe a few shots of bourbon.
The bustle of daily ranch life booms around me, but I don’t hear it. I hear nothing but Nash and Ward’s words repeating one after another.
“Then you can’t be with him.”
“You need to decide who and what you want.”
Over and over again, their demands run through my mind. Nash has been the only man I have truly wanted my entire life, but Ward helped me see how much more I deserve than what I’ve had in the past, including my ex, whom I thought would be forever.
Punching the code into the front door, a blast of cool air hits me. It’s enough to break me out of my trance. There’s work to do before I meet up with River and her childhood friend Sadie tonight.
Grabbing water from the fridge, I check my messages.
River.
Tate.
My mother.
Beckett.
Jim.
Nash.
“Why can’t you just let me go?” I groan, stomping through the house, tossing my phone on my bed, and then disappearing into the bathroom.
A shower will help. It will solve everything.
The groan of the pipes as I turn the shower nozzle makes me wince. It’s so damn loud, but I guess that’s to be expected in an older home like this. Although it has been updated over the years, the foundation dates back to the early 1800s. Those bones are still there.
Testing the temperature, satisfied that it’s hot enough to burn off the confusion of the day, I strip out of my clothes, leaving them in a pile on the floor. Usually, the mess would make me cringe, but today I don’t care.
Running my hands through my hair, I let the water soak into the strands. A smile crests my lips, remembering all the times Ward has done the same motion. His strong fingers combing my hair back so he could kiss me sweetly. The images flash and then disappear before I pile shampoo into my hands.
My scalp prickles as I massage the lavender-scented soap into my hair, the suds multiplying before they smack onto the tile floor.
It takes longer than it should to rinse every drop of shampoo free before lathering the length in the matching conditioner.
Securing my hair in a clip atop my head, a new image flashes before my eyes.
My palms curl around my neck, sliding over my clavicles, only to grab hold of my heavy breasts.
My core tightens in response, the muscles clenching, begging for hands.
His hands. Nash’s rough palms roam over my skin, consuming me.
Those skilled fingers pinching my hardened nipples painfully as he whispers against my throat.
You’re mine, Beatrice.
“Yes,” I moan, allowing my hands to drift lower, grazing over the top of my pelvis. “I’ve only ever wanted to be yours.”
Then, as if someone snapped their fingers, the image fades. Gazing down at my hand, my fingers tremble, the tip of my middle digit seconds from rubbing along my sensitive clit.
“Dammit, Betty. Get it together.”
Lathering my sponge, I quickly wash my body, determined to leave the fantasies behind.
Allowing my eyes to drift shut, yet another finds me.
Ward’s lean frame presses against my back, his palms lightly gripping my biceps, while Nash presses against my front.
Nash’s lips trail over my throat as his hard length presses against my stomach.
But it’s Ward’s fingers in my hair while he kisses the spot behind my ear that makes me moan.
They both whisper their demands.
Pick me.
I’m the one you’ve always wanted.
He can’t give you what you need.
No one knows you like I do.
It’s a back-and-forth ping-pong match as their hands and mouths trail over my skin. Their voices begin to blend until I shout, “Leave me alone.”
My eyes pop open, and it’s just me in the shower. My hand holds a crumpled sponge, and all the soap is gone.
It seems I can’t even trust myself.
Cutting the water, I grab hold of my robe, shrugging it on though I haven’t dried my skin at all.
Water drips from my body as I exit the standing shower, stopping in front of the Jack and Jill sink.
Steam covers the expanse of the massive mirror, my hand swiping across the glass so I can see my reflection.
Empty, unfocused mocha brown eyes stare back at me. It’s the same woman I’ve always known in my reflection. The one who worries about everyone else before herself and longs for things so far out of reach it’s laughable to believe they could ever be mine.
When you grow up resigned to a fate that was chosen generations before you, those things live as fantasies in your mind. They give you something to wish for, though you already know those types of wishes don’t come true.
Toweling my hair, I head toward my bedroom, ready for a fresh set of clothes. A reset.
My door creaks as I grab hold of the knob, entering my room. With one more shake of the towel through my hair, I flip my head back only to gasp so loudly I want to cover my ears. “Nash…”