Chapter 34
Nash
Anxious knots twist my insides. The sweat beading at the nape of my neck and causing my shirt to stick to my back is uncomfortable.
Every breath seems to come so quickly after the last, I wonder if I’ll start hyperventilating soon.
I haven’t been this nervous since the day I took the SATs at seventeen.
I shouldn’t be nervous. It’s just dinner with the Hughes family.
There have been hundreds over the years.
Yet, for the others, I wasn’t dating their daughter or sister.
I wasn’t fucking her day and night because minutes away from her felt like an eternity.
In my mind, if I didn’t take advantage of every moment now, I might lose her.
I can’t lose her.
Betty pleaded with me to drive separately.
An ask that nearly made me cry like a fucking chump.
It told me more than I wanted to acknowledge.
She still doesn’t quite believe me. She still doubts that I’m in this and not going anywhere.
The signs are there daily, but until today, I could pretend like we were moving past them.
Every action of mine has been with the intent of proving to her I’m in this.
That we’re now a we and will be until the day we die.
It’s impossible to say how I know she’s it for me, but I do.
Betty is everything to me. It’s as if her confession revealed a missing piece inside me that only she could fit into.
I’ve talked to Hunt about it. It’s like my feelings for her were a switch flipped overnight.
But no one knows me like he does. He listened while I recapped twenty-three years of knowing her.
“Buddy, this is what it looks like to fall in love with a friend and the soul that matches yours. It doesn’t matter that you only just figured it out.
Things like this are always only a matter of time,” he’d said.
I knew my best friend could be sentimental, but this was a side of him he’d never let me see.
Parking in front of her parents’ house, I release one more ragged breath before climbing out of the truck.
My steps are sure as I march up to the front door, that crooked step creaking under my weight.
Letting myself in the way I always have, I worry my lip, hoping I don’t ruin this for Betty.
Not when I am still working so hard to earn her trust.
Just act normal, Nash. Same as you’ve always been.
Betty isn’t ready to tell everyone about us yet, and I respect that, but it doesn’t mean it doesn’t sting. It doesn’t mean I’m not wracking my brain trying to figure out how to ensure she believes me.
“Nash!” Mr. Hughes appears around the corner, pulling me into a bear hug.
A soft laugh funnels out of me. “Hey, Mr. Hughes.”
“How you holding up, son? Glad to hear your momma is doing better. You send them our best now.” He points a playful finger, but I know he means business. He’ll know if I don’t relay the message just as he intended.
Taking a step back, I fix a few of the flowers in the bouquet I bought for Betty. Flowers of every type and color, curated just for her. The florist had thought I was insane until I explained it to her. Then she thought I was the sweetest husband alive.
I almost corrected her, but my heart and head enjoyed hearing husband a little too much. It wasn’t something I cared about with Katherine. But attaching that innocuous word to Betty set my insides on fire. It felt right. It felt exciting.
“Beckett’s out back,” Mr. Hughes points a thumb over his shoulder. “He’s got the grill fired up, getting ready to put the steaks on.”
“Thanks, but I want to give these to Betty first.” I raise the bouquet, flashing a grin that surely must have me looking like a fool.
“Ahh,” Mr. Hughes snorts. “You always did know how to make my little girl smile.”
Something like pride fills my chest. Maybe it shouldn’t. Maybe I should be worried that he figured out there’s something between us. The flowers shouldn’t have given us away. I bought them last time too. “Kitchen,” he cocks his head to the side, allowing me to pass without another word.
The sounds of Betty and her mother singing and laughing as they chop vegetables for a salad draw out a grin from me. Once again, images of what our life could look like together flash before my eyes.
“Hi,” I interrupt, ducking into their sacred space.
Betty jumps, her hand flying to her chest. “Nash. Oh, hi,” she breathes, picking up the leaves of lettuce that flew to the floor with her reaction.
I wait for her to stand before handing her the flowers. She’s quick to take them from my hands, studying them with a goofy grin on her face. “Thank you,” she all but whispers.
Hug me. Kiss me. Please.
Yet, she doesn’t. The flowers remain clutched to her chest as if they are the most precious thing in the world.
Anxious energy seems to make my body vibrate as I stand here staring at her, waiting until those brown eyes find mine.
So much shines in their warm brown hue. Appreciation.
Lust. Love. The same love she has always held for me is clearer now.
Gratitude fills my heart that my actions and time never made it fade away.
Even when I didn’t realize what it was, she’s always looked at me that very same way.
“Hey, sweetheart,” Mrs. Hughes pulls me out of my trance, hugging me close, then looking me over at arm’s distance.
“We heard about your sweet momma. She’s going to be okay, sweetheart.
” She pats my cheek before returning to her prep.
“Do you mind setting the table for me while we finish up in here?”
“Uh, no. Not at all.”
Knowing my way around the kitchen, I grab the everyday plates and silverware, just as I had so many times when I was younger. It was always the kids who set the table, often rotating between me and Beckett because Betty wanted to learn how to cook.
The moment alone is necessary as emotion swells in my chest. The Hugheses and my parents have never been close friends per se, but Cole County is massive until it’s not. We all know one another, and my parents knew how much time I’ve spent here over the years.
My mother’s recent health concerns have felt like something I’ve had to carry alone.
Sure, Hunt knew, and my parents are as positive as they can be.
But my sisters haven’t even bothered to come home and see her.
Their phone calls stream in daily, but remain short, with just enough time to dole out the bullet points of an update before one of their children screeches in the background.
I’ve never cared that they wanted to have their own lives.
We always wanted different things, and there’s nothing wrong with that.
We’re all entitled to live the lives we choose, but fuck do I resent them for not caring more sometimes.
Mom and Dad deserve that. They gave us everything and then some growing up.
We never wanted for anything, even when times were tough.
At the very least, they could show up when our mother is laid up in the hospital.
“Hey,” Betty whispers, moving beside me. Her hand is light as it slides across my back, her eyes searching mine.
Dammit, I thought I’d done well enough hiding my emotions, not from her, but from the probing questions that might follow regarding my mother’s prognosis.
I don’t want to answer those right now. We’re supposed to have a nice dinner with my girlfriend’s family, full of the same laughter that has always made our stomachs ache sitting around this table. That’s it.
Shifting my body to face her, she’s never looked more beautiful in her baby blue sundress. Taking her hand in mine, I kiss her palm, letting go just in time for Beckett to stalk through the back doors.
“Steaks are done.” He raises the serving dish as if showcasing his work before setting it at the center of the table.
“I’ll grab the salads,” Betty spins on her heel, leaving me alone with her brother.
My palms sweat. I know she’s not ready to tell her family about us, but I’m analyzing every look. Every word. Every movement. I am convinced that they know about us and are just waiting for us to confess.
It’s Betty’s choice. It’s her family, and I don’t want her saying a word until she has confidence in me, in us.
Dinner passes the way it always has, only this time I got to sneak touches along Betty’s bare thigh under the table.
My fingers drew tiny circles over her skin, inching higher and higher until she squirmed and shoved my hand away.
My laughter timed perfectly with another of Beckett’s recollections from our youth, so no one knew but us.
For a guy who barely talks outside of his house or the office, he’s always the ringleader seated around his table. I wonder whether others see me in the same way.
Holding a conversation is not an issue, but standing silent in a corner is my go-to more often than not.
Then you put me around the people who mean the world to me, and I can become a different person.
I become the man Betty makes me want to be all the time.
Loud and playful. Loving and full of life.
“Son, those steaks were done up right tonight, and that chimichurri sauce. Boom!” Mr. Hughes smacks the table.
“Okay, enough, big guy,” Mrs. Hughes scolds her husband playfully.
I watch as she stands and starts rounding up the dishes before I interrupt. “Betty and I will handle that, Mama Hughes. You three head out back, and we’ll join you in a few.”
We need a moment alone. Rather, I need a minute alone with my woman.
“You’re such a good boy,” she grins before taking her husband’s arm and stepping out into the warm night air.
Beckett disappears into the kitchen, carrying three beers back out with him to follow his family. It’s almost a replica of the last night I’d been here, but this time, Betty isn’t scuttling away from me. Her gaze lingers on my face, heat brewing in her eyes. This time we’re different.
Only a few hours have passed since I last had her, but I swear I crave her as much as air.
It’s never enough, and my cock is hard every five minutes.
It’s really a problem when I’m out there trying to mend fences or wrangle spooked horses, and she’s just standing there watching me in those tiny shorts and her tank tops that expose her cleavage for anyone to see.
She doesn’t say a word as she rounds up our plates, and I gather the glasses. It’s as if this is our everyday life, washing the dishes beside one another as she flicks water droplets at my shirt, only to giggle when I tickle her ribs.
We’d done the same after every meal at the house in Montana and these past few days at her apartment and my cabin. My woman was just as determined to spend as much time with me as I wanted to spend with her, so we avoided the Miller house. We drove separate cars and never left together.
It was awful being stuck watching her from afar and only stealing kisses in the shadows of the barn. Oddly enough, there was only one occasion we almost got caught, and it was by Ward. That was the last time Betty let me touch her in the stables.
“Scoot over, I’m getting water all over me,” Betty chortles.
Her breath hitches as I grab her by the wrist and spin her around, pinning her back to the counter’s edge.
“You know how much I like you wet. My words are a whispered promise against her lips before I drag her lower lip between my teeth.
A tiny sound escapes her. One that has my cock twitching in my jeans, threatening to swell if she so much as makes another peep. Her fingers sink into my hair, pulling my face down to hers, her mouth immediately opening, allowing me access to her.
The taste of her consumes me, our bodies grinding into each other when Beckett’s voice booms behind us. “What the fuck are you doing?”