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Lizardman leaped up in joy like he actually understood what he was saying. Nash snatched the keys to his motorcycle—a Triumph Bonneville iconic edition—and headed for the garage. Lizardman followed him closely, clearly aware that the Slade men tended to escape him at this point.
Star? West would name her Star? His brother would change everything about Emily if he could. I need to put a big “Don’t touch me” sign on her forehead. She’s perfect the way she is. Tantalizingly so.
Nash’s mind suddenly veered to that poor pregnant woman from last night. Lacy Lynch had preyed on her innocence. That’s what this city did to people. Nash would take Emily away from all of this if he could.
Maybe I’ll talk to River, get him to take her away from this place.
Wait. That was ridiculous. Her brother did this for a living. Emily would laugh in his face if he showed his concern. They knew what they were doing. What was Nash’s problem anyway? He’d seen far worse. He was probably just shaken up from yesterday.
He needed to get Emily out of his system. Maybe if he kissed her.
She’d never let him.
He climbed onto his bike, still feeling the lingering memories of Emily wrapping herself around him. Lizardman was quick to lunge onto the seat in front of him. He’d done the same for their animals at the ranch, and Nash didn’t think twice about it with West’s dog.
Holding the puppy close, Nash headed down the road, passing River’s house. If the fates were kind at all, Emily would still be snuggled deep into her covers fast asleep, blissfully unaware that her name was now linked to his. The world thought that they had something going, but she was the only one who didn’t.
Was that what really bothered him? Emily only saw him as a brother? He needed to find a quiet place to think; some place with wildlife and nature and maybe a view. That was Love Circle—a terrible place to go with no “love” to bring along. And it wasn’t sunrise or sunset when the view was at its most magnificent, but at least that would mean he’d be there on his own… besides Lizardman, of course.
He headed towards Orleans Drive, up the hill to the highest spot in Nashville. He parked and Lizardman leaped off his bike. Reaching behind him into the bike’s storage, he slipped out a Frisbee, following the puppy up to the top of the hill.
Even in the morning, the view of the city’s skyline was magnificent. The trees with their deep emerald leaves perfectly framed Nashville’s skyscrapers and its sparkling bodies of water. After throwing the Frisbee back and forth with Lizardman, the puppy got tired and started attacking Nash’s knees instead.
“Come here, Lizardman!” Nash wrestled the pup down, and as soon as the small dog knew who was boss, Nash collapsed into the soft grass next to him, kicking off his boots. Taking advantage of the pup’s suddenly relaxed state, Nash folded his arms behind his head while he stared up at the slowly drifting clouds in the sky.
That was the one thing about this blue sky—it looked pretty much the same anywhere he went. He could be in Harvest Ranch… with Emily at his side, laughing and burrowing into his side.
How could he make that a reality?
Lizardman rose up in rapt attention. Without another sound, the puppy scrambled over Nash’s chest and rushed away.
Nash ignored the scrappy little pet’s rude departure. He’d come back. Hopefully. Emily had mentioned performing at Harvest Ranch in a few weeks, but… he wanted to see her before then. How could he arrange it? She wasn’t exactly here to date him.
“Hey, bad boy.”
Eva Trout’s face hung over him, cutting off his view of the sky. She carried Lizardman in her arms. He seemed happier than he’d been with Nash, the traitor. Eva wore a pink top and a black skirt that reminded him of a tutu. Her blonde hair flowed over her shoulders and down her back. Was it longer than it had been yesterday? The girl was all softness and curves.
She was also a mind reader, apparently.
He sat up. “Eva?” How did she know he’d be here? His gaze fixed on the picnic basket that she’d towed along. She made a habit of showing up everywhere he went uninvited, like she owned the Slades. Nash blamed West for that. “How did you find me?”
“The ‘Find my friends’ app on my phone.” She laughed. “We’re friends, right?” She reached down, peeling off her heels. She was much shorter without them on.
“Eva,” he began.
“Relax…” She tossed her shoes to the side and lowered onto the grass next to him. “I’m just trying to make your brother jealous. He likes me… he just won’t admit it.”
What would it be like to live in her fantasy world? Nash really hoped that he wasn’t as unrealistic when it came to Emily. Talking to people like Eva always made him paranoid that he was the same way. “I can appreciate that,” he said, “but I came here to be alone. It’s been a rough week.”
She nodded and began pulling out sandwich makings that made his mouth water—roast and turkey cut from the bone, then wine glasses and a bottle of chardonnay. What was with everyone trying to get him drunk?
“It’s ten o’clock in the morning,” he pointed out dryly. Emily would be proud of his self-control.
“What kind of bad boy are you?” she chided and pulled out a can of lemonade and slipped it to him like a drug dealer. “Don’t let anyone catch you drinking that.”
She pulled her phone out and fluffed her hair before clicking on a livestream. He jumped when he noticed her waving at her invisible TalkieTalk audience. “Hi, everyone! Here I am with West’s hot brother who just caused a commotion around town last night!”
Nash groaned. Eva providing the inside scoop was the last thing that Emily needed. Eva turned the phone on him and he lifted his hand to hide his face from the camera. “Okay, you can turn that off now.”
