Chapter Fourteen

Nina

Ang is going over the schedule for today, which is a lot, even though we're not expecting guests until this afternoon. I'm trying to pay attention, but goddamn if Brayden isn't outside, washing down the horses with his goddamn shirt missing from his goddamn body. How am I supposed to remember anything when his muscles are rippling like that? Even his back has abs, and I just want to run my hands all over him to feel the dips and curves of his body.

"You can prep the marinade and steaks while I make the potato casserole," Angie says, oblivious that her son is a fucking monument, and he's taking up the whole view with his sexiness.

"Absolutely," I say, tearing my eyes away from the window for the millionth time. But her smile says she caught me.

"He likes the horses to look their best on the day guests arrive," she says, as if that's what I was looking at.

"Makes sense." I study the index card with the marinade recipe—as if it's more interesting than a half- naked man—then collect all the ingredients: red wine vinegar, Worcestershire sauce, olive oil, a clove of garlic, salt and pepper, and a healthy splash of wine. I add the steak, turning it once so that all sides are coated, before placing it back in the fridge. But I can't stop stealing glances outside. This job is torture, and I love it for all the wrong reasons. I mean, where else can I enjoy a view like this while working?

As for the work itself, I feel like I'm actually good at what I'm doing. Rather, I'm good at it here. My own house is overwhelming, even though it appears mostly clean since I stuffed everything in storage before Jordy moved in. Still, I haven't been blind to the side eye she's given each room, as if she's already calculating how much longer she has to live there.

I mean, we're at peace, sure. But I trust her as much as I trust a hornet's nest, and I'm sure she doesn't trust me, either. You don't just erase years of nastiness in a matter of weeks, and as it is, we haven't really talked about any of it.

In fact, we've barely talked at all. It's like a switch went off as soon as Jordy moved in, where I have my corner of the house and she has hers, and we just share the common areas. We didn't even have movie night that first day she moved in, even though we'd talked about it at lunch. She was tired, she'd said, and I wasn't going to argue. When I came home after getting the job yesterday, she was locked in her room. This morning her door was open, but she was gone, and so were her tennis shoes by the door, which made me think she was at the gym or on a run.

I don't really know what's happening here, or how I feel about it. The whole reason I agreed to this was because I was so overwhelmed by being alone. But we're on day three of being roommates, and I might as well still be alone.

After prepping dinner, my job is to freshen up each cabin by remaking the stripped beds, cleaning the bathrooms, and vacuuming and dusting. I finish each room with a fresh bouquet of flowers Ang had picked up at the farmers market, plus a plate of freshly baked cookies we made earlier this morning.

Brayden is waiting outside as I finish the last room, his arm resting against the porch post he's leaning on. There's this space between the post and his body that makes me want to slip my arm through and rest my head against his chest. He's wearing another one of his flannel shirts, much to my relief and disappointment, and I can't stop thinking about how good it would be to bury myself in him and just inhale forever.

"Hey." I try to sound casual, but it comes out as a squeak, so I try again. "Ready for today?"

"I came to ask you the same thing," he laughs. "My mom whipped up some sandwiches for us if you're hungry. We have some time before guests arrive, if you want to take off until dinner." He tilts his head. "Or you could ride along on our pre-dinner horse ride. You don't have to; it's not part of the job. But if you'd like, you're welcome to."

Yesterday's beach ride has been a permanent fixture in my mind since I hopped off that horse and hightailed it out of there. For a moment, nothing else mattered but the wind, the feel of the horse running along the sand, and the way Brayden kept looking at me like this was so much more than a ride. It's all the reasons I should say no, why I shouldn't even be here at all. But the hope in his eyes now mirror exactly how I'm feeling inside.

"I'd love to," I say.

With Hazel at school and Ang scurrying around the kitchen, I'm the only girl at a table of guys, and it's quite something. I keep asking Ang if I can help, but she continually puts me off, insisting that I sit and enjoy. Brayden finally tells me it's what she does, and even if I helped, she'd still be running around like this.

"The best thing you can do right now is relax and enjoy the pampering," he says, his hand resting on my arm as he leans in. My heart races at the feel of his breath on my ear, and I try not to react even as I inhale the earthiness of his skin.

So I relax, laughing as the guys trade barbs across sandwiches. There are no dainty eaters at this table, and I realize I need to move quick if I want anything to eat. My stomach rumbles at the size of the sandwiches, and I'm pretty sure I can eat two.

But then my mother's voice invades my head. Nina, no one invites the pig to the table.

I eye the sandwiches for a moment, knowing exactly how it will feel to eat one. How it will taste. How my eyes will close as I chew and then swallow, enjoying every second of that sandwich.

Instead, I grab a handful of carrots and a half turkey sandwich on whole wheat. I pick at the carrots, unable to even stay in the conversation because my mind is ping-ponging between the food in front of me and my mother's insults, and it makes me want to eat everything on the table.

But I won't. I can have will power, I can make a good first impression. These people don't have to know me as fat Nina who can't control herself around food.

"That's not enough," Brayden hisses at me, then adds a whole sandwich on a French roll to my plate, along with a chocolate chip cookie. "Your mom's not here, and you're not going to last on rabbit food." His voice is low so that only I can hear him. But my cheeks flush just the same at the thought of my mom slamming my body, my eating and everything about me—all in front of him.

"Fuck, I'm sorry," he murmurs. "I shouldn't have said it like that. I just mean that we have a lot of work—"

"It's fine," I tell him, and I mean it. "You were the only one who spoke up for me." I lower my eyes. "Thank you."

"Don't thank me for that," he says, and I look up at the bite in his tone. His eyes flash, but then soften. "The very least anyone could do in that moment was fight for you. I did the bare minimum. They just did less."

I look across the table at the variety of food in front of me. The other guys are eating whatever they want, not even paying attention to what lands on my plate. Even Angie, the only other woman at this table, has a full plate and is laughing along with the guys.

I reach across the table and grab a second cookie. "For fuel," I say, and Brayden laughs as he nabs another cookie for himself too.

The guests start rolling in shortly after lunch is put away. I jump in and help the guys with transporting luggage to the cabins. At first they try to keep me from helping out, but once they understand that I'm capable of a lot more than my 5'3" frame suggests, they stop arguing. Plus, I'm stubborn as hell.

Once everyone is settled, I watch from the Winters' porch as Brayden and the guys show people around the ranch. It brings me back to the days I used to be a regular here. Everything is the same, but different because I didn't know anyone but my trainer. I never even saw the Winters family at all, so focused on riding that ring while Natalie barked out commands. Back straight. Head up. Relax Nina, just move with the horse.

Would I have seen something in Brayden if I met him back then? I doubt it. I was in such a terrible space, and all men were the enemy. I didn't trust anyone back then, especially not guys. Not after what happened.

I watch him now, marveling at how easy he talks with guests as he shows them around. At one point he looks directly at the porch, his eyes finding mine as if he knew I was there the whole time. He winks at me, that dimple deepening in his cheek as he shares a smile only meant for me, and it's hard to remember we haven't known each other all our lives. Maybe he actually could have broken through my fears back then.

Would I have been different if we'd met? Would he be with me instead of Jordy?

I can see Ang moving in the kitchen from the window, and I leave my spot on the porch to help her.

"Get out of here," she says, shooing me back out.

"I can help," I insist, but she won't have any of it.

"River and Forrest are already sticking around to start the grill. Besides, I already know you're going on a ride with Bear, and I think you should."

"Bear?"

"Oh, Brayden, I mean," she laughs. "It's just what the girls called him growing up."

I feel like I'm full of questions, but I can't help asking, "Girls?"

She looks up quickly from the lettuce she's chopping, pausing for a moment, then nodding. "Hazel and Amber," she says. "Hazel was a twin. Well, I suppose she's still a twin. That never goes away."

I realize I've stepped on a landmine here. There were two girls in this family, now there's one.

"I'm so sorry," I say. "I didn't know."

"Oh honey, how could you?" Ang shoots me the most compassionate smile, as if I'm the one who lost a daughter. "It was a long time ago, though you never truly get over a loss like that. You just learn new ways to live with it."

I nod, thinking of Nanna Dot. It's been five years now, and that hole still feels as deep and wide as the days after I found her. It will never go away. Yet, I'm still getting up every day. Still going about my day. Still existing even if it seems unfair that life continues after something that should have ended the world.

"I get it," is all I say, and she reaches over and pats my shoulder.

"I had a feeling you would. "

"Can I ask how she died?" I ask.

"It was a drowning accident, about ten years ago," she says. Her expression falters, and I know she's recalling that awful moment. "We almost lost both of them," she adds. "We were lucky."

Lucky . The word rolls through my mind long after I've left the kitchen. I feel like a fool for even comparing the loss of my grandma to what they experienced. To tell them "I get it." As if losing my aging grandmother is the same as losing a child, along with the life she had before her.

Lucky, because they only lost one daughter and not both of them. I can only imagine how much this is eating all of them up.

I think back to the earlier conversations Brayden and I shared. He never said anything, but he did allude to something awful that happened to him ten years earlier. This has to be the thing, what made him escape to college around the same time I came to the ranch for healing.

Does the death of his little sister haunt him the way the ghosts of my past do?

"Hey, you ready?" Brayden calls out, and I snap back to the present to see him waving me over. I want to ask him about it, but I also know he hasn't told me for a reason. So I bury my thoughts as I break into a trot to join the small crowd formed around the guys. The horses are already saddled up, tied up to the posts along the fence, and each person is wearing a helmet with the ranch logo on it—a sea horse with "Winters Salt & Sea Ranch" in a sprawling font.

I don't even ask what to do once I see each of the guys helping guests onto their horses. I move toward a family who are waiting their turn, a couple and their young son of about ten years old. His mom is cooing at the horse and trying to get the kids' attention, but the boy isn't having any of it.

"Do you folks need help?" I ask, grabbing one of the steps meant for the shorter guests.

"Oh, yes," the mom says, resting a hand on her son's shoulder. He steps out from under her hand, and she smiles as if to say kids these days , but I can sense her frustration too.

"I'm not a baby," the boy says to me, looking directly at the stool.

"Justin Everett," his dad growls, and Justin stands up a little straighter, though the look on his face is full of distrust as he keeps his eyes on the stool.

"I'm sorry," the mother says. "It's been a long car ride, and we probably shouldn't even go on the trail ride." She glances at her husband, and I can sense that car ride was especially long. I also am pretty sure a ride on the beach in the fresh air is exactly what they need.

"Sitting in a car for hours isn't my favorite, either," I say to Justin, placing the stool on the ground near his horse. "Also, this isn't for you. It's for me because I'm a bit too short to get up there on my own." I step one boot on the stool, then place a foot in the stirrup. Then I swing over. "That's all you have to do. Think you can do that?"

He nods, appearing a bit less sullen as I swing back over. The truth is, I don't need the stool. But maybe if he sees me use it, he'll use it too.

Sure enough, after a few tries to reach his foot into the stirrup, he finally gives up.

"Can I use the stool too?" he asks, his eyes on the ground.

"Of course! I'm happy to share it," I say, jumping back down to help. In seconds, he's on top of the horse. I can tell he's trying to play it cool, but his mouth is twisted in a proud smile.

"You're a natural," I tell him, then show him how to hold the reins before I move on to his parents.

"Thank you," his mom whispers. "We took his Nintendo Switch when we got closer to the ranch, because we made a pact to enjoy a technology free weekend. This might be the longest he's ever been without electronics."

"He'll probably forget all about his Switch by tonight," I say.

"Doubtful," Justin's dad chimes in. "But it looks like his mood has improved." He nods at Justin, who is busy leaning over, patting the horse's neck.

Once everyone is saddled, Jake moves to the front of the group and offers simple instructions.

"Don't fall off," he says, and everyone laughs. But then he shares how a light nudge of the heels will get the horse moving, and tugging slightly on the reins acts just like brakes.

"The horses respond easily," Jake continues. "So keep that in mind when you tap your heels into the horse's side. Too many kicks, and you might find yourself up the coast, halfway to Oregon."

The guests are split into two groups, with Jake and Nate taking one group, and Levi joining me and Brayden. The groups are small, basically just two families in each cluster. I'm pleased to see that Justin and his family are with us, but annoyed that we're joined by four giggling girls who chose the ranch as the setting for their bachelorette party. They're all perfect bottle blondes, which is awfully judgy of me since my hair hasn't been any shade of natural for close to a decade now. They must have scoured H&M for the perfect cowgirl costume, because they're all wearing tight jeans and cropped checkered shirts, tied off just under their boobs. They're also staying close to the front where Brayden is, and are not being quiet about how hot the cowboys are.

"I think we got the cutest ones, though," one of the girls hisses presumably to the bride.

"My goal is to go home with one of their numbers," another Barbie says, not as quietly .

"Well, I plan to go home with a lot more than that," another says, and I finally lose the battle of keeping my mouth shut.

"You're wasting your time on that one," I say, then wrinkle my nose with a fake smile when all their heads whip towards me. "He's taken, and his fiancé is pretty hot."

"You can't go after an almost married man," the bride pipes in.

The girls' eyes go wide. And me? I feel a dagger of guilt pierce my gut. Because isn't that what I want to do?

"What about the guy in back," one of the girls whispers.

"Single," Levi hisses loudly from a few horses back. I can see Brayden's shoulders shaking heavily as he keeps his head forward, and the girls slow their horses to join Levi. I trot up to the front and match Brayden's speed.

"I see why you enjoy this gig," I say, nodding back at the girls now surrounding Levi.

"It definitely has its perks," he says, laughing when I reach out to smack his leg. I'm caught off guard by the solid muscle that meets my hand, and fuck me, I want to grip that thigh before finding other hard places to grip.

"Does stuff like that happen a lot?"

"Like girls on a bachelorette party looking for cowboys to fulfill their every fantasy?"

I groan, tilting my head up to the sky. "Lord, you have an ego the size of Canada."

He just laughs. "They all seem to think this is a ranch rendition of Magic Mike or Girls Night Out."

"You mean, this tour doesn't end with a shirtless dance while you straddle my face," I whisper, then fight a grin when I see his cheeks flush. But there's a wicked glint in his eyes.

"Not this one," he deadpans, his voice hushed as he leans toward me. "But wear face protection if you go on one of our midnight tours."

I burst out laughing, and he grins.

"Fuck, I'm sorry. Too far." He grimaces, biting his lip. I have to fight the urge to lean over and kiss those swollen lips just to see what they taste like.

No. Cousin's fiancé. Off limits.

But I can't help myself.

"Brayden, I have had a really crappy couple of months. Years, to be honest. Talking dirty with you feels like the highlight of my life."

"Happy to be of service," Brayden says, tipping his cowboy hat.

Fuck, this job is going to be both heaven and hell. And I'm here for it.