Chapter 1

Ryder Jameson wiped the sweat off his brow, thinking maybe he’d made a mistake moving back to Texas. Sure, his parents were here, and his uncle’s farm had been up for sale, which he got at a bargain price since he agreed to take care of his uncle’s animals and not sell them, but the heat didn’t play nice. The blinding sun’s only purpose seemed to be making him its bitch.

Another rivulet of sweat trickled down his temple as he worked the stave driver, pounding the new fencing stave into the hard-packed dirt. His arms flexed with each strike, the rhythmic thuds resonating in the quiet afternoon air. His cow had complained for about twenty minutes, and after snorting loudly, she had gone into the barn. The horse, which was really just a glorified pony, shot him nasty looks, but the goats were close, just looking for a handout. Mavis, the cow, wasn't having any of it and was standing in the shade with her butt pointed his way.

He didn't mind caring for the animals, but he wasn't sure he would replace the goats once this pair slipped over to goat heaven. They seemed to think his shirt, along with his jeans and anything else they could get their lips on, was food. He feared they would eat him if he sat down in the pen.

After slamming the driver down one last time, he glanced at his watch, cursing under his breath. Tonight’s baptism was fast approaching, and his mother, Maggie, had volunteered him to help set up the stage. Time was short, and he didn't want to disappoint her again. Not that he'd done much to make her proud in the last four years since his wife had passed. Thoughts of Amy made his stomach clench and his back ache. Anger swirled in his belly, and he knew a bad mood was bound to follow soon. Always did when he thought of how she'd died.

The sudden crunch of gravel under tires drew his attention to the driveway next door, where a shiny silver car pulled up. The vehicle looked out of place against the backdrop of rustic houses and open fields. The neighboring property was small compared to his spread.

During some financial crisis, his uncle had sold off a few acres, and the jerk who'd bought the parcel had built a house so close to his uncle's house that you would have thought they were lovers. It made no sense at all to him. The house should be on the other edge of the property, not here, where he could practically hear anything that happened inside the place.

The original owner had moved on, and a string of sloppy people had moved in, making the house more of a mess than the owners before them. At least this new guy drove a nice car that didn’t belch smoke everywhere. And he seemed to have initiated some repairs before he moved in, which Ryder appreciated overall. Having workers over there had been annoying, but he'd dealt with it okay. It had been weird knowing many of the guys working on the place because he'd gone to school with them. They’d been friends back then, though they weren't his buddies now. Moving to Atlanta had helped him grow more than just older, he’d become much more choosey with who he became friends with.

The driver's side door opened, and the guy who stepped out looked totally out of place—even more so than the last time Ryder had seen him. His new neighbor wore white tennis shoes, crisp jeans that looked like he'd taken them off the rack this morning and worn them out of the store, and a sleek button-down shirt in a pastel color that might look good in the evenings in Miami Beach but made him look ridiculous here.

The sunlight emphasized the blond streaks in his neighbor's hair. It almost looked like he had highlights from some fancy salon. Ryder wondered for a moment if they were natural but didn't think they could be based on how good they looked. The man was stunning, no question. In New York, LA, or even Atlanta, the guy's hair would fit in, but out here in Texas, that fancy hair might get a man beat up.

His neighbor sure as heck radiated an air of confidence that made Ryder stand a little straighter. He'd heard from one of the church ladies about the newcomer but hadn't paid much attention. He wasn't even sure what his new neighbor's name was since he'd been working overtime at the lumberyard over the last week and had only seen the man through the window but hadn't officially met him.

“Hey there!” the guy called out, flashing a bright smile as he approached, hand extended for a shake. “I’m Nolan Montgomery, your new neighbor.”

Something about the man’s smile twisted through Ryder like a hot knife sliding through butter. Goosebumps broke out over his shoulder as a wave of heat raced through him. Ryder frowned as he stared at the man, trying not to appear too friendly. This guy seemed way too happy to see him, and the last thing he wanted was a neighbor who thought he could drop by unannounced. No, Ryder enjoyed sulking in his misery too much to have some sort of friendly relationship with this guy. After a second, he clenched his jaw as he reluctantly accepted the handshake, offering a curt nod before turning back to the fence.

“Listen, I’m kinda busy right now,” he muttered as he twisted a length of wire around the stave, attaching the fence wire to the new support he’d just installed.

“Of course, I understand,” Nolan replied, hands shoved into his pockets. The awkwardness in his stance betrayed his earlier confidence. “Just wanted to say if you ever need anything, don’t hesitate to come on over.”

Ryder snorted, and a sneer crept onto his face. “I don’t need anything from you,” he snapped, resentment bubbling beneath the surface. The words echoed the harsh thoughts that clouded his mind. He felt a little guilty as pain flickered in Nolan’s eyes. But why should he care? If the man wanted to be babied, he’d best learn that Ryder wasn’t the type of guy to give a shit about other people’s problems. Ryder had known unimaginable loss, and he doubted anyone could top his trauma. Life was unfair, and that was the end of the story.

“Okay then. I’ll leave you to your work. Have a good day,” Nolan said before he turned and walked off.

Ryder hated being such a jerk, but the last thing he needed was a friend. Being friends with people meant they would ask questions, and he already got enough of those from his mother and her friends. He didn’t need some guy asking how he felt or if he was still sad.

Guilt ate at him as he began to pack up his tools and equipment. He didn't need to be such a dick. Amy would hate the way he was acting, but if she wanted a say in his life, she shouldn't have died. His heart skipped a beat, and his knees wobbled before he stiffened and continued on, pushing away his emotions. It was easier to push others away than risk exposing the raw vulnerability that lay hidden behind his tough exterior. Getting close to anyone would mean opening up, and that was the last thing he ever wanted to do.

The sun dipped low on the horizon, casting long shadows across Ryder’s yard as he closed the storage shed door. Sweat clung to his brow, and he wiped it away with his work-roughened hand.

Before going inside, he glanced over at Nolan’s house. The man had left his curtains open, revealing his kitchen. Heat filled Ryder as he watched Nolan twirl around the room, a ladle held up like a microphone, crooning along to some unheard tune. He looked like he was having a blast, like maybe nothing bad had ever happened in his life. A chuckle escaped Ryder’s lips before he could stop it. The sight was both ridiculous and endearing, and for a moment, he forgot about the tension between them. He had been like that back before the crash that took Amy’s life. Maybe not singing into a ladle, but he’d been playful with Amy as they’d cooked and cleaned.

Nolan glanced up and caught Ryder’s gaze through the window. His dance came to an abrupt halt, and he waved enthusiastically, a wide grin plastered across his face. Ryder’s cheeks burned as loss almost overtook him. He spun around, cursing under his breath.

It would be so much easier if the man was just another annoying neighbor, someone Ryder could ignore without a second thought. But there was something about Nolan that tickled a memory at the back of his mind. He wanted to ignore that thought, but he couldn’t push it far enough down that he didn’t feel it at night as he drifted off to sleep or right before he woke and remembered everything.

His phone buzzed, and he pulled it out. A text from his mother showed on the screen.

Don’t be late!

Ryder sighed. His mother knew him well. Thank goodness he hadn’t broken down and agreed to live with her. She was great but always in his business. Since Amy’s death, she’d hovered over him like a new mama dog watching her pup. He loved that she cared, but he needed his space.

On my way.

It was a lie, sort of. He still needed to shower and dress. In the shower, he had to focus on getting clean and not think of everything he'd lost. The last thing he wanted was to show up at his mother's church and appear sad. If they saw even one tiny shard of sadness in his eyes, they would pounce. They might mean well, but their endless parade of casseroles and prayers always ended with them showing up at his house, dragging along some niece who was available for dates. No, thank you. He didn't want another woman to make him less sad. They didn't get it. He'd had one great love, and that was all he deserved.

After the shower, he dressed fast and headed out. His gaze drifted over to Nolan’s house, and he spied the man dancing around his kitchen again, this time without the ladle. Heat filled Ryder, but he pushed thoughts of Nolan away as he headed out.

He had things to do and people to help. Hard work would keep him busy and stop the random musings of his mind. Thinking hurt, and he didn’t like it. If only he could forget everything instead of reliving the events of his life in his dreams and random thoughts that hit him like a ton of bricks when he least expected.