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I shook my head.
“Real tough Texan rancher. Not abusive or anything, just the sort of bloke who was up every day before the sun, throwing hay bales around, breaking the ice in the troughs with his bare hands so the horses could drink...not a man who moisturizes, you know what I mean? A man’s man. Anyway, when JD’s twelve, his dad gets thrown by a horse. Breaks his back. That’s why JD had to step in and help his mom raise Erin. So his dad, this rancher who’s spent every day of his entire life riding and ranching and doing physical work...suddenly, all he can do is sit on the porch in his wheelchair.” Danny paused for effect. “And he never. Complains. Once. Never talks to anyone about it, never accepts any help adapting to his new life.” Danny shook his head, then lifted his gaze to look me in the eye. “That’s why JD never grieved. He’d learned from his dad that you can’t cry, can’t show weakness. That’s not what men do.”
My chest ached. Oh, JD... I thought about what he’d said to Cody at the funeral. He knew this kind of stoicism was bad. But that didn’t mean he could change.
“Ever since it happened, it’s like he’s not really been living,” said Danny. “Just…surviving.” He looked at me. “Until he met you.”
“How do we help him?” I asked.
Danny shook his head. “I’m not sure we can. I think maybe he has to figure this out on his own.”
That night, I was still at my desk at one in the morning. It wasn’t just that there were a thousand decisions that I needed to make as CEO, it was that every one of them came with millions of dollars worth of consequences. I was learning that executives made the easy decisions themselves so they could take credit. The hard decisions, they sent upstairs to me, so that it would be my neck and not theirs if things went wrong. I stared at my screen and groaned, my head in my hands. I’d been circling around and around on five big decisions for two hours, unable to decide on any of them.
I got up, legs aching from sitting still for so long, and stumbled out of my dad’s office in search of coffee. I turned towards the break room…and slammed straight into someone, so hard I bumped my nose. My pulse shot through the roof and I jumped backward, tripped in my heels and went down on my ass. I lay there panting on the carpet, my heart slamming. Most of the lights were off and the guy was hidden in shadow. All I knew was that it wasn’t JD.
I made out heavy black boots and immense, denim-clad calves and thighs. The guy was big, a walking wall of hard muscle. Then, as he stepped into the light, I saw a soft cotton t-shirt stretched across his chest, with silvery-blue gothic letters spelling out what I guessed was the name of a band. A thick, black beard and then—
“Sorry,” rumbled Colton. “Didn’t mean to scare ya.”
I slumped in relief and then flushed, embarrassed. I’d seen him around plenty over the last few days and I should have known that JD would have someone down on this floor while I was down here. But in fairness, Colton was pretty intimidating. He was gorgeous in a rough, brutish way, but with his muscles and beard, he looked like an outlaw biker.
I took the massive hand he offered and he hauled me to my feet like I weighed nothing. “I was just going to get coffee,” I told him, straightening my skirt. “You want some?”
He shook his head. “Nah, I’m good.” But he walked with me to the break room, his big body filling the small space. Now that my heart had slowed, his strength felt comforting, like a friendly grizzly was looking after me.
He watched as I poured myself a mug of coffee. “You planning on getting any sleep?” he asked.
I rubbed the back of my neck. “Probably not.” I sighed and braced my hands on the counter, suddenly exhausted. “I’m trying to make all these decisions but I can’t.”
“Why not?”
I shrugged, which made me realize how tense my shoulders had gotten. “I don’t have any right. My dad put me in charge but I’m around all these people who’ve been doing this stuff for years. I shouldn’t be here.”
Colton grunted and crossed his arms. His brows lowered and he stood there thinking, “Yeah,” he said at last. “I know what that’s like.”
I turned to him, shocked.
He nodded towards the ceiling, to the penthouse above us. “All those other guys, they’re Delta or Marine Raiders or Secret Service. Me? I was just regular Army, and military police.” With his Missouri accent, it sounded like two words, poh-leece. “I come to Stormfinch and it’s all fake passports and secret missions and working with the CIA and shit. And they’re all used to it but I ain’t. I’m just used to following orders, cuffing guys and throwing ‘em in a truck. I’m glad to be here, y’know? I need this job. I love what we do. But I keep thinking that sooner or later, someone’s gonna turn round and realize I don’t belong.”
