Page 62 of Nash's Songbird


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Was it too early to propose?

He grinned, watching her over his cup of orange juice. If anyone could break the curse of all sons in the Slade line, Nash was sure that she could.

“Wow, Nash.” She savored a bite of the pancakes that he’d made. “This is to die for! Tell me again why you always dragged along Kylee’s cooking to our neighborhood barbecues.”

“Kylee is a way better cook than I am… but, uh, well, she’s…” Uh oh, he was about to break the cardinal rule against mentioning old exes. “She’s lacking in other things,” he finished lamely.

Her brows shot up.

He quickly made up a reason that wouldn’t get her back up. “She can’t play the guitar,” he said.

“I highly doubt that guitar playing is on your list of a future partner,” she teased, though he could tell that she wanted a real answer out of him. “Why did you break things off?”

Nash licked his lips. None of his exes were as warm as Emily at all. Emily’s laughs were more genuine, her smiles quicker. He needed someone who made him feel like a million bucks, someone who liked serious talks or joking around, or who appreciated holding hands with him, like now. His gaze shot to Emily’s fingers on the table, and he clapped his hand over hers.

She brightened in response.

“That’s why,” he said.

Her head tilted, and he brought her even closer to him, so he could meet the temptation of those succulent lips. He might be a sucker for food, but he was more a sucker for tasting the sweetness of her soft kisses; maybe they were a little savory, too, come to think of it. He savored every touch.

A shot of cold water blasted him squarely in the face. Both he and Emily twisted around to see Dakota holding a water cannon. Nash wiped the streaming water from his hair and eyes. “Ha! You don’t go halfway, buddy! No baby squirt guns for you.”

Emily groaned beside him, and he noticed that the whole front of her shirt was wet. He hugged her to him, turning back to Dakota, who shrieked out in a laugh. The child danced below the porch, aiming his water cannon again. “Come play! Nanna has water balloons, too.”

“Good,” Nash said. “We’re going to get our revenge… but we’ve got to get some work done today first.” Dakota sagged in disappointment. “Hey,” Nash said bracingly. “That doesn’t get you out of anything. I’ll be plotting ways to get you back while I’m out. Someone’s got to show you your place.”

A tremulous smile returned to Dakota’s face. “Can Lizardman play with me today?”

“Uh…”

“I could keep an eye on the pup,” Emily said. She was staying behind to get her own work done. He understood, but now he had even more reasons to return swiftly to the ranch house tonight.

Nash nodded, picking around the wet pancakes to finish off his breakfast. “Okay, but if you get him muddy, Dakota, you’re giving him a bath.”

Dakota nodded eagerly. Nash snickered. He’d like to see that in action. It would be just like those comedies where a freckle-faced kid chased around a sudsy dog through a mansion. Millie might have all of their heads after that. His own mother had gone after him for trying to bathe baby chicks in the house. Besides his mother losing the strength to read him a really good lecture, nothing had really changed.

He swallowed. Okay, a lot had changed. He’d fretted over his mother since she’d fallen ill. That might’ve been one of the reasons that he’d agreed to go with West to Nashville. He’d felt so useless at home, and West had a plan. No one had been able to help her, besides his brother, and money seemed like the key to her recovery. After what had happened, he just couldn’t sit there on his hands and do nothing with his life. He never wanted to feel as helpless as he did if something like this hit him and his family again.

He grabbed his plate and scooted back from his seat. “All right,” he said. “I’ll leave you to composing more songs about me.” His heart soared when he listened to her embarrassed shout in response. He held back his grin.

“Don’t you go getting a big head, mister,” she said. “Not everything’s about you. I’m writing about… Lizardman.”

“Uh huh.” He touched her lips with his knuckles. “I want to hear it when I get back.”

She shrugged him away. “Fine, you asked for it.”

He always did.

Smirking, he grabbed his pack and headed for his truck. This felt strangely like it would go if they were married. He wanted to hold onto this moment for as long as he could. He threw his pack into the back of the pickup and headed down the gravel driveway to the pastures on the south side of the ranch.

It was the farthest distance from here. Millie had explained that it used to be overrun by cattle, but that was in their “heydays” when her husband was alive. Nash would survey that stretch of land first, then work his way back to the house. He’d take Emily to the more forested paths tomorrow and Saturday. He had his work cut out for him.

The further he drove from Emily, the more he thought of her. Even without her by his side, he felt connected. He’d never experienced anything like it, not even with his twin, and he doubted that he could explain it to anybody.

As he neared the south side of the ranch, he noticed four oversized trucks combing through the land below in coordinated movements. They stopped then moved, stopped then moved over the dirt, like giants collecting eggs. What was happening? He needed to ask Millie what project she was doing on her land.

Or he could save himself the time and ask these drivers. He drove closer, feeling the vibrations of the heavy machinery through his truck. By the time he parked and his boots landed on the ground, he could feel the muscles on his legs twitching from the pressure of the vehicles.

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