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Chapter Twenty-Nine
Emily’s words haunted Nash, echoing through his ringing ears:
“You’re a good man.”
No, he wasn’t. He didn’t deserve her. As he’d watched her fall asleep, he realized how badly he’d messed everything up. Inheriting his part of the ranch would always mean a certain amount of debt to the bank during the years when things weren’t going as well. He’d tried to change all that by working for West.
He groaned. She would’ve been fine with him having to scrimp and save. She said she liked him the way that he was.
If she only knew. She wouldn’t be in this trouble if it wasn’t for him. When would he come clean?
When this is far behind us.
He’d tell her everything when he figured out a way to fix all of this.
Nash left Emily sleeping on his bed and walked out into the living room, trying to roll the kinks out of his shoulder. The hearty scent of strawberries made him go weak at the knees—just like Emily’s shampoo. His gaze shot to the pie sitting on the counter. Millie had made them another pie.
Man, he loved her cooking.
His guilt consumed him again. Oh, Millie. She was an angel. In another part of the house, he could hear Dakota running over the hard linoleum in the halls, dragging something heavy against the ground.
Millie shouted for him to get back into the tub.
Nash’s eyes traveled back to the pie. Normally, he’d devour it, but his appetite had packed its bag and left his conscience burning with regret.
If Nash could take everything back with a big eraser, where would he start? He never should’ve gone to Nashville, but if he hadn’t, he wouldn’t have been here to help Emily. So he shouldn’t have accepted the job with Lynch then. And lose out with this time spent here with Emily? Okay, fine, then he should’ve told Millie the moment he’d found out about the oil, recused himself from the deal, or at least reminded her of his bias. Then Lynch’s men would never have tried to find a way to blackmail him with that footage… unless they still would’ve done it out of revenge?
That sounded more like them. Yeah, Nash had been on a crash course since the beginning of all this, and even if he had a way of erasing the bad, he still might not take it because he wasn’t willing to give up all the good.
That was Emily.
She didn’t even know what an angel she was. She meant so much to him that the thought of losing her hurt.
He retreated to the couch, and tripped over one of his running shoes. “Dah!” He let out a pained grunt when his knee ran into the arm of the couch. Lizardman was up to his old ways again. Nash couldn’t even see where the other shoe went. Rubbing his knee, Nash collapsed onto the couch where he’d kissed Emily countless times.
He reallyhadlost count. How was that possible?
Man, these last few days had been amazing. Emily had made him the happiest man alive and the guiltiest. His stained conscience ate at him until he felt raw with bruises.
Why had he asked her to make him the happiest of men this day of all days? It had slipped out, and for a moment, he thought their love could get them through this, but after leaving her side, which so often happened, reality came crashing down, and then he wasn’t so sure.
He had to make sure that Lynch didn’t release that video of Emily. It would ruin her career. He was solely at fault.
He groaned. There had to be a way to smother his conscience. Food usually fixed everything, but not when it was made by the one he was about to hurt in a major way.
Oh, God, what have I done? I need to catch a break here because I’m slipping up all over the place… it feels like whatever I do, I can’t get on top of this. Am I going to lose Emily no matter what I try to do?
He shouldn’t have asked her to marry him. He shouldn’t have told her that he loved her—not with everything hanging over him like this. It was just that he did love her, and he did want to marry her… he let out another grunt of dissatisfaction.
His phone buzzed, and he welcomed the distraction from his circular and destructive thoughts. Glancing down, he saw that Eva had left him a text:
“Have you talked to West about me yet?”
He answered back, almost immediately. Definitely not his usual M.O., but he needed something to make him forget the present. “No.”
She was on it… like she always was. He saw the dots show up then disappear then show up again. “Is this really Nash?”
He grinned. He knew she’d be suspicious. “No, this is his twin, what do you want?”
