Chapter Fifteen

Brayden

Tonight's tour is probably the best one I've ever led, and it has everything to do with Nina. Just being around her makes everything better, but especially on this tour, I can see how well she fits in.

First off, she doesn't shy away from helping out. I love that she jumps into working, ready to pitch in wherever an extra pair of hands is needed. Like now, as she rides next to this young boy and talks about her favorite Nintendo Switch games. I didn't even know she played games, but it makes me want to learn just so we have something else we can talk about.

Watching her with him ignites something else inside me. She's a natural with kids. She talks with him like he's an adult, and he's totally feeding into it. I'd noticed him early on, how he was fighting his parents on just about everything. I was ready to wring his neck, but Nina stepped in and somehow diffused the situation.

She also diffused the bachelorette situation. This kind of thing happens almost every weekend, if I'm being honest. But I heard Nina's tone when she corrected the girls. She was jealous.

Of course, I don't know that for certain. It's possible I'm reading way too much into it because I'm crushing on Nina in completely inappropriate ways. If Jordy knew how I felt about her cousin, she'd straight up murder me. She'd make me fire her, even though hiring Nina was her idea. If she knew the thoughts that go through my head just seeing Nina on a horse, in those tight jeans that show every one of her luscious curves…

I'm leading the pack, but it doesn't stop me from glancing back every few minutes. I say it's to check on the group, but really it's to look at Nina. She's busy making friends with the family, but she never fails to catch my eye every time I look at her. It's as if she knows I'm watching her, like she can feel my eyes on her.

She's a natural at riding. She'd been nervous yesterday, telling me how she hadn't ridden in almost a decade. But seeing her now, it's like she's been riding every day of her life. Nina belongs on a horse. She belongs on a ranch. She belongs here, with…

With me.

I shake the thought from my head. It is not wrong to find other people attractive. I'm sure Jordy has thought other guys are attractive. Hell, I work on a ranch of single guys that gain plenty of attention from the women who visit here. I'd be a fool to believe Jordy didn't think they were good-looking.

But is she obsessing about them? Is she considering what a future with them might look like or how amazingly well they might fit into her life, like I'm thinking about Nina? Is she wondering what would have happened if she'd turned right instead of left?

I can't let my attraction to Nina get in the way of our working relationship. I wanted to find a staff member that would work well with my mom after Hazel went to college, and I needed someone who could fill in as needed around the ranch. Nina is both, and the way she's working now, I know she'll fit in even if I no longer manage the ranch.

We catch up with the other tour at the end of the beach, and I dismount and help the guys tie off the horses. Nina helps the young boy, who I assume has a crush on her by now with the way he's watching her. Me too, kid.

"You can use my knee when we get back on the horses," she says as she helps him down. I'd heard him arguing before, but there's no argument now. In fact, he seems to be a huge fan of that idea.

"Looks like you have a new boyfriend," I whisper to her once everyone has dismounted and are gathered around the beach fire Levi lit in a makeshift pit.

"Well, Levi is taken," she says, nodding at the swarm of bachelorettes that have stuck by him since the beginning of the tour. "And you're off the market. I mean, not that I need you on the market. I mean…" She trails off, looking like she wants to sink into the sand.

"You mean, what?" I tease her, pulling her down with me so that we're both sitting in the sand. She leans on my thigh for a moment, regaining her balance, but she lingers for just a few seconds longer than necessary. Rather, it's very necessary. I want to feel the weight of her whole body on mine.

"I mean a platonic gaming buddy who's here with his parents is pretty much my speed right now. Dating is so overrated anyway."

"Wait, aren't you dating someone now?" I ask, even though I know she isn't. But I still can't help teasing her. She tilts her head in confusion, and I bite back a smile.

"You know, Sebastian?" I prompt her. I can't believe I remember the name she said at Jordy's parents' house, when she went on and on about the guy who could do funny things with his tongue. Even joking, I want to murder this imaginary dude.

Nina continues looking confused, but then a light bulb goes off and she bursts out laughing.

"I seem to remember I mentioned several guys that evening. Sebastian. The throuple. Hell, I was getting ready to bring up the whole San Diego Chargers lineup before my mom shut me down."

"That's impressive," I laugh, nudging her. "You're obviously popular."

"It's the only way I can get my mom off my back," she says. "My mother seems to think I'm either one huge project because I can't find a guy, or she thinks I'm a whore. There's no in between. She will never think I'm thin enough, pretty enough, or worth anything until I settle down. But I don't want to settle down, or rather, I don't want to settle. I find guys to be…" She stops, looking out at the ocean, and I can see a shift in her features—a hint of emotion. It's gone in a flash, and she looks back at me with tired resignation. "Guys can be really disappointing," she finally says. "I've learned it's just better not to trust any of them."

You can trust me , I want to tell her. But to what end? I can't be with her, so defending myself against her experience of men would be wasted and inappropriate.

"I'm sorry you've had to deal with such dipshits," I tell her instead. Her eyes widen, and she places her hand on my arm. It's warm on my skin, even as the air is turning cooler.

"Oh, I didn't mean you," she says.

"I know," I say. But I don't laugh. She'd mentioned that her horseback riding lessons all those years ago were like a therapy of sorts. I suddenly need to know, partly so I can understand, but also so I can hunt down whoever hurt her and make them pay. "What happened?" I ask her. "Who hurt you?"

Her face darkens, and she shakes her head quickly. I place my arms on her shoulders and look her in the eyes, now filling with tears.

"You don't have to tell me anything," I say. "But you're safe here. If you ever need to talk about it, I'm a really good listener. "

She starts to say something, but shoots me a pained look. Not here, not now, she seems to be telling me.

"Let's go see what's happening at the bon fire," she says aloud, and she jumps up and jogs toward the group of people before I have a chance to respond. I stay back for a moment, watching as she keeps her mask on with a huge smile, as if she's been doing this for years. But having even seen just the smallest glimpse of her pain, I can't unsee it. Even more, I think I know.

I think back to the night we met, when she'd been cornered by those guys. Any person would have been scared if they were facing guys that size who were ready to pounce on their prey. But Nina was petrified, completely paralyzed in her fear. I realize now, it's because something like this has happened to her before.

I don't know for sure, but I feel it in my gut, and it makes me want to tear apart any guy that comes near her. At this moment, she's talking with Jake, and I immediately think of our earlier conversation.

"Oh, she's chips and salsa, man. Just one taste, and I know I'd eat the whole bag."

I want to get between them and push him off her. Even though it's fucking Jake, and he wouldn't hurt a fly. Besides, he swore he wouldn't go after her. But is he flirting now? Is she going for it?

Fuck, this girl is messing with my head. I have zero rights when it comes to who's attracted to her, even if it makes me want to tear Jake apart—limb by limb. My only concern should be on my fiancé and doing my job while I still have it.

I push up from the sand and join the crowd. Nina avoids my gaze for the rest of our time at the beach, but once we're all back on our horses, her eyes find mine, and she offers a small, embarrassed smile. I ride over to her, close enough to take her hand, and I do, gently squeezing it before letting go. Then I lead our group back to the trail and the barbecue dinner waiting for us.

After dinner, we light a fire in the pit between the cabins and stables. It's an evening tradition at the ranch, along with all the ingredients to make any flavor of s'mores. There's the traditional graham crackers, chocolate, and marshmallow; but there's also smashed berries, candied bacon, cookie butter, salted caramel, and chocolate covered potato chips.

It's always a treat seeing the guests, especially the kids, exclaim over the different ingredients we offer. But tonight it's a treat seeing the look on Nina's face as she takes in the smorgasbord of sweets. Her earlier discomfort seems forgotten as she catches my eye with an open-mouthed grin, and that's enough to make me jog over to her and squeeze her around the waist, selfishly capturing some of that joy for myself before I let her go.

Let's just sweep stuff under the rug, okay? Because that's what's working for me too.

"This is incredible," Nina says, her plate already loaded with her choices. I make my own plate, then find a space in the group where we can both add our speared marshmallows to the fire. She takes her time, holding hers just high enough to allow for a golden tan. But I stick mine right in the fire.

"Wow Winters, you really lack patience," she says, her marshmallow still hovering above the flames.

I lift my constructed s'more to my mouth, a combination of the chocolate potato chips, bacon, and burnt marshmallow, then crunch down.

"I disagree," I say, my mouth full. "I love a little char with my s'more. But for the things that matter most? I could wait a lifetime."

She keeps her eyes on mine, and the weight of those words settles between us. As if they have meaning. As if they could possibly lead to what I truly want. But they won't, and I break eye contact first, spearing another marshmallow as if that's the most interesting thing here.

"I think I know what happened ten years ago," she says. "Was it about your sister?"

I grow cold at the mention, the wind knocked from my chest. I know she's not talking about Hazel.

"Your mother mentioned Amber," she continues, a note of apology in her expression. "I'm sorry. If you don't want to talk about it, you—"

"No, it's not that," I share with her. "I just…" I pause, unsure what to say because in some ways I could tell Nina every damn thing about me. But this one hurts too much, and with a ranch full of guests, I just can't. "Another time." She starts to argue, but I take her hand. "Please, I can't tonight, and if you can't either, I understand. But if you'd like someone to listen, I'm your man."

She looks at her hand in mine, her dainty fingers entwined with the roughness of mine.

"I want to talk about it," she murmurs. "But I feel stupid because it was so long ago, and I should be over it by now. It's not like I'm the sole stakeholder of trauma." She looks at me then. "It's not like losing someone so young, before their life really started."

"There's no competition on grief," I say, squeezing her hand. "Time doesn't mean it's gone, you just keep learning new ways to live with it."

I keep silent then, but my hand stays with hers, my thumb running over the smooth skin.

"I thought he loved me," she starts, her eyes trained on her lap. Then she shares the most traumatic experience of her life. The date with the football quarterback. The field at their high school where he told her to meet him. Several of his friends appearing when she thought it would just be him .

How they held her down, covered her mouth, laughed while she cried.

"I'm so fucking sorry," I say when she's done. Her face is like stone, though the tears have formed silent trails down her cheeks. I want to scoop her into my arms and make up for everything those assholes did to her. I want to heal the wounds that are obviously still fresh inside her, even ten years later. I want to hunt down each one of those bastards and kick the living shit out of them.

But I can't do anything, and it fucking kills me.

"Is this why you came here?" I ask. "You said it was kind of like therapy."

She nods. "When I came to live with my Nanna, she thought riding lessons would help, and it did in so many ways. At least it kept my mind off it." She looks around, her eyes widening a little as she appears to notice the people around us again. The crowd has dispersed a bit, though a few stragglers remain behind.

"I wondered when I came here today if it would feel the same as it did back then." She looks back at me and smiles. "You know…peaceful. Safe."

"And does it?"

She nods, slipping her hands from mine and clasping them in her lap. I'm struggling so hard to not take her hands back. To kiss them. To pull her closer to me.

"You did not deserve to be hurt like that," I say, and she shakes her head.

"It's fine, I—"

"No, it's not fine."

She swipes at her eyes then gives me a shaky smile. When I don't return it, she sighs, losing the brave look on her face.

"It's not fine," she agrees. "That whole time of my life was really fucked up. My mom didn't know how to deal with me. She never told my dad. She wouldn't let me tell anyone, though I broke down and let Nanna know." She takes a deep, shaky breath before continuing. "At first my mom was so concerned for me, but it's like this switch went off. She made me feel like the whole thing was my fault, and for years I believed her. Even now, I—"

"It wasn't your fault," I say angrily. She gives me a small nod.

"I know it's not," she says. "But you try to stop believing something that's been told to you for years."

I start to argue with her more, but she looks so utterly exhausted, I stop.

"Are you okay?"

She nods. "It was a long time ago," she says. "I'm okay, it's just hard to talk about. Or when something triggering brings me back to that night."

"Like the night we met," I murmur.

She looks up at me then, her eyes shining from tears and firelight. The connection is electric, just like it was that night.

"You felt it, right?"

"I should go." She shoots me an apologetic look while I do my best to hide my disappointment.

"So soon?" But I get up at the same time she does. "Six in the morning does come quick."

She looks at her phone to check the time, then groans. "Like in six hours." She looks back at her chair, then snatches the plate on the armrest with the half-eaten dessert. "But first, it would be a shame if I didn't finish these s'mores. They're way too good to throw away."

She bites into it, moaning at the taste while her eyes close. "Never in my life would I have thought smashed berries could improve a perfectly delicious s'more," she says. "You have officially ruined basic s'mores for me."

"I sincerely apologize," I say, not sorry at all. She has a little berry at the corner of her lip, and I don't even think as I reach forward and rub it away before licking it off my thumb. I freeze, the pad of my thumb still at my mouth as I taste the combination of berry and the essence of her swollen lips. Her eyes are wide as she bites the place where my thumb had been, her gaze remaining on mine. The flames from the fire are dancing in her eyes, and it's easy to forget there's a crowd of people moving all around us, because all I see is her.

I take one step closer, and her breath catches.

"Nina, I—"

"I should go," she repeats, taking one step back. I look at the ground, feeling like a complete idiot. What am I thinking?

"I'm sorry, I—"

"No, it's late." She smiles softly. "I've had the best day today, better than any I can remember, and I honestly wish I could stay all night. But if I don't leave, I'm never going to get any sleep, and I'll be useless tomorrow. Besides, the sooner I fall asleep, the sooner tomorrow will get here."

"Then you better hurry."

She turns to leave, but I can't help myself. I grab her hand, and she turns quickly.

"Thank you," I say.

Her face twists with confusion. "For what?"

"For trusting me. You went through something so hard, and the people who cared about you most weren't there for you in the way you needed them to be. But you need to know that your mom is so wrong about you. I wish I could…" I pause, biting back my words because, no matter how fucked up her mom is, it's still her mom, and it's not my place to say anything against her. "I think you're strong as fuck," I tell her. "You're smart and so fucking incredible. You're devastatingly beautiful, and you've accomplished so much and are capable of so much more than your mom gives you credit fo r."

She lowers her eyes, but her hand remains in mine. "You shouldn't say things like that to me," she says softly. "I might believe you."

"I wish you believed it without me having to tell you," I say. "Because there are many other reasons why I shouldn't tell you."

And then I let her go.