Chapter Three
From a seat in the corner of Olivia’s wide open barn, Amy tried to ignore the uncomfortable silence of her tablemates and watched her best friend and Nate share their first dance as a married couple. They looked so perfect and right together that Amy’s teeth hurt. If she weren’t so dang happy for them, she’d yak.
Longing tugged her midsection. No one had ever looked at her the way Nate did Olivia. Like she was his everything and nobody else existed. After thirty years of being the girl most guys skimmed past for a glance at her friend, Amy should be used to the shadows by now. Guess not, since her belly cramped.
Because this was the working barn for shearing sheep and grooming horses, there were no stalls in the generous hundred-by-hundred space, but everything had been cleared out. Amy’s brother Kyle was in the far corner, running the stereo in lieu of a DJ. Ten or so round tables were covered in white tablecloths and votives. Both the front and rear carriage doors were open, letting a cross-breeze waft in. Strands of lights hung from the rafters to look like raining stars and, combined with the ethereal glow of the moon through the skylights, had the atmosphere cast in dreamy ambiance.
She would’ve loved something like this for her wedding. Simple, pretty. Rustic-chic. Instead, she’d gotten a fifteen minute service in the courthouse following a less than whirlwind three-month romance and takeout from the bar afterward.
Then again, it wasn’t as if she’d ever been considered someone of great significance.
Nakos’s father shifted in his seat to face her, a smile crinkling the corners of his mouth. “Our son says things are going well up at the main house. You’re settling in, helping Mae with cooking.” His voice was a deep, rich baritone. Between that, his leathery face, the dark skin of his Native American background, and eyes like impending midnight, he should’ve been scary or unapproachable. But he was the gentlest soul she’d ever met.
“Olivia’s been very gracious.” After her ordeal with her ex-husband, Amy had no options. He’d left her penniless when he’d been sentenced for assault and kidnapping, plus their house had been foreclosed. If Olivia hadn’t taken her in and found some kind of work for her to do, Amy would’ve been screwed. “I enjoy cooking.” It was relaxing and being productive felt good, so there was that.
Across the table, her mother snorted and her father bore an expression of banality.
Yep. Because Amy should be home cooking for her husband and perfecting the image of a devoted wife. Not embarrassing them with a divorce, ruining the sacrilege of marriage, and living in supposed sin with her BFF.
From beside her, Nakos winked in support, ignoring her folks. “Ames makes the best meatloaf this side of the Platte River.”
Bless him.
His mother nodded. “That soup you sent to the reservation last month when I had the flu was delicious.”
This earned another snort from Mom.
The Hunts stared at the table, clearly uncomfortable.
Guilt shifted in Amy’s gut for her parents’ bad manners. They were devout protestants and as narrow-minded as people could get. They’d never consider the Hunts their equals based on their skin color alone. Why the heck they’d chosen to sit at their table, she hadn’t a clue. For that matter, why they’d come at all.
Oh, that’s right. They loved Olivia, the daughter they wished they’d had.
Amy struggled to find something to fill the quiet. “Thank you for the compliments, but I’m afraid I’m going to need to find other living accommodations soon. I’ll keep helping Mae in the kitchen, of course.” She had no choice. Meadowlark was a small town with few job opportunities and her parents refused to hire her at their hardware store.
Nakos’s gaze bore holes in her profile, but she ignored it. His concern, though appreciated, only added to her guilt. If not for him and Nate stopping Chris from turning kidnapping into something worse, she probably wouldn’t be sitting here.
“Surely, Olivia wouldn’t ask you to leave.” Mrs. Hunt leaned forward, apprehension in her deep brown eyes. “You two have been friends since you were little girls.”
“No, she wouldn’t.” And her friend had reiterated that countless times. Olivia would give Amy the shirt off her back and vice versa. They were closer than sisters. “But she’s married now and they need space, time alone. I’m staying in Kyle’s room tonight to give them privacy.” Olivia’s ten ranch hands lived in two cabins separate from the main house on the property, Amy’s brother being one of them. “I’ll figure out something permanent before they return from their honeymoon.” Somehow.
Dad stiffened. “What do you mean, you’re staying with Kyle?”
“As if you haven’t embarrassed us or yourself enough, you want to bring your brother down, too?” Mom shook her head, disgust twisting her thin lips. “Living in a house with all those men.” She’d all but left the word “whore” out of her statement, yet it was heavily implied.
Nakos inhaled. Hard. Nostrils flared, he clenched his fists on the table. “If you’re so concerned, perhaps you should help your daughter by giving her somewhere to go instead of laying insults at her feet.” The low timbre of his voice was barely above a whisper, but steel laid underneath, cutting in its intensity.
Frozen, Amy stared at him in shock while he and her parents had a glare-down.
Nakos wasn’t a man of many words. Typically, he only spoke when it was absolutely necessary. Yes, they were the best of friends, and yes, he’d defended her before. Yet, in this case, he knew better. He wasn’t going to change her parents’ small minds by reminding them she was their blood. That had never mattered. Not when she’d been a girl and certainly not now.
A few years ago, she would’ve been the first person out of her seat and speaking her mind. But her I-can-handle-anything, tell-me-whose-ass-I-need-to-kick persona had died when she’d said I do. It wasn’t coming back. That was the day her give-a-shit broke, the day hope began its slow suffocation. Up until that point, she’d been darn good at faking it. Except the age-old mantra hadn’t worked because she never did make it.
“I will not allow her to step foot in our home after what she’s done.” Dad shook his head with finality.
Her first offense had been marrying outside of church. They’d had no money for anything more extravagant than the courthouse. Her second being the divorce. Yet she’d been a pariah long before either instance. And that was a memory she’d buried, where it would remain for all eternity.
Not for the first time, she studied them, wondering if they’d ever loved her. She’d inherited her dark hair and narrow face from her father, but her eyes were a more potent shade of her mother’s. Curvy body type, too. Both their gazes cut to Amy as if Nakos wasn’t worth the bother to further respond. And that nailed it home. The only thing she had in common with these people was a physical resemblance.
Dad sniffed. “You made your mistakes. Live with them.”
Yeah. She’d asked for her husband to stop paying the mortgage and wrack up thousands in credit card debt. She’d asked for him to beat her to a pulp, then shove the barrel of a 9mm in her face. And she’d asked him to destroy the one thing she owned that brought her any pleasure—her photography equipment. It was just a silly hobby. Still, she’d saved for two years doing odd jobs to buy the camera. One swing of Chris’s hammer had shattered it—and her—to pieces.
Nakos rose so fast his chair tipped over. “Dance with me, Ames.” Not a question. A demand. And very unlike him. His gaze slid to hers, beseeching. Without words, he implored her to get him away from the table or he wouldn’t be responsible for what came next.
She glanced around, realizing the first dance was over and other couples were on the floor. When she refocused on Nakos, she got hung up on the long lashes fanning his black eyes. They were the only thing offsetting the cavern of dark intensity, softening his features a smidgen.
“Please.” He held out his arm, waiting, then lowered his voice to a whisper. “Nobody puts Baby in a corner.”
Oh God. Only he would use a Dirty Dancing reference. The fact he even remembered the line from all the times she and Olivia had made him watch the movie was astounding.
Amy laughed, offering a quick smile of apology to his parents for deserting them, and took Nakos’s hand.
He led her to a cleared area of the barn and pulled her to him. Close enough to draw his heat and breathe in his earthy scent, but not so their torsos touched. One warm palm settled low on her back as his fingers clutched hers in the other hand.
Suddenly nervous, she followed his lead to the ballad playing. After the service, he’d rolled the sleeves of his white shirt up to his elbows, revealing his corded forearms, and unbuttoned the first few notches by his neck. He’d also tied his long, silky hair in a low ponytail and reclaimed his black Stetson he rarely went without.
“I swear, Ames, if you weren’t a product of those two idiots, I’d hate them more.”
She breathed a laugh. “Don’t let them get to you. They’re judgmental and not worth the frustration.”
“They hurt you, and that’s uncalled for.”
They’d been hurting her all her life. She’d grown used to it. “I’m fine.”
Attempting to regulate oxygen exchange, she stared at his throat as they swayed. Stubble had grown on his jaw since this morning, adding a ruggedness to his olive skin. He was such a gorgeous man. Tall and lean, he wasn’t built with bulges like Nate, but he had clear definition. Languid. Fluid. High cheekbones and a defined chin. Wide shoulders and a narrow waist.
She’d always had a bit of a crush on him. It had fizzled out over time, but being this close to him again made her hyperaware. Which was as stupid now as it had been back then. He’d only ever had eyes for Olivia. “We haven’t danced together since prom.”
Nakos had gone to school on the reservation, but for events like dances or homecomings, Olivia or Amy had brought him along in a friendship capacity. He’d been her date for senior prom. She’d ridiculously held out hope going with him would suddenly make her visible to him as the opposite sex, complete with breasts. She’d spent hours picking out the right dress and shoes and makeup.
He’d shown up at her door with the same pleasant smile, not a flicker of interest.
“It has been that long, huh?” He glanced down his nose at her, his gaze a fond caress. “In case I forgot to say it earlier, you look very pretty tonight.”
“Thank you.” If only he really meant the compliment and weren’t being polite. Training her gaze over his shoulder, she smiled. She suspected it came off wan. “And you’re very handsome all quasi-dressed up.”
He grated a rough laugh, the one she figured he reserved for special occasions. “I’m just grateful I didn’t have to wear a tie. You made me put one on for said prom.”
“Twelve years and you’re still not over it.” She sighed. “Admit it. You clean up nice.”
A grunt, and he spun her away from him, tugging her back. “No one paid attention to what I had on with you and Olivia present.” He winked. “Cute as you were that night, you grew up into something special.”
Dang. See, it was lines like that which made it hard for her to let go of foolish girly fantasies. “Ditto.” She slid her hand from his shoulder to his bicep, straining against the cotton, and squeezed. “When did you develop guns?”
His mouth opened and closed, but nothing emerged. His brows furrowed in confusion.
“I’m not kidding. Do you ride the horses or just toss them for sport?” Because...dang.
He shook his head and stalled their motion. “Are you teasing me? I can never tell with you. That looks like female appreciation on your face.”
“Why wouldn’t I appreciate you? You’re a very handsome man.”
If possible, he grew even more still. Tick, tick, tick went the muscle in his jaw to the beat of her pulse. He stared at her with those fathomable, soulful eyes as if he’d never seen her before. He didn’t seem to be breathing.
Had she made him uncomfortable? It wasn’t as if she’d outright hit on him. She’d merely stated fact. Then again, his radar would’ve missed flirting on her part. In all their years as friends, not once had he noticed her as a woman. She could’ve stripped naked and made an arrow out of bacon on her stomach pointing to her goody zone. It wouldn’t have earned so much as a blink from him.
And there was the issue. Her attention, however harmless, was unwanted. Of course, he’d be distressed, possibly even disgusted by her remarks. Today had probably been very hard for him having to watch Olivia marry someone else. Hurt lanced Amy’s chest at the realization while remorse tightened her throat. After all this time, had life, her experiences, taught her nothing? She wasn’t the object of desire in the great book of fairy tales. And she’d been damaged goods long before Chris had come into the picture.
The last thing, the very last thing she needed was to put a rift between them. She let out a quiet breath. “Sorry. Forget I said anything.”
Nakos didn’t move. Not an iota. Actually, if anything, his frame grew more rigid. Black eyes studied her intently, but his expression gave nothing away. When he desired, he could be stoic and mysterious. If Nakos Hunt didn’t want someone to know what he was thinking, napalm couldn’t get past his resolve.
An eternity later, his gaze jerked away and he set them in motion again. Just like that. As if the past few minutes hadn’t happened. He was quiet long moments, then his fingers tightened in hers and the hand on her back twitched. Since he seemed lost in thought, it was probably involuntary.
Unable to take the silence, she chewed her lip. “I’m sure this hasn’t been an easy day for you. I’m here if you want to talk.” They were good at that. Conversation. It was the one thing he appeared to seek from her that he couldn’t with Olivia. Not the heart-of-the-matter kind of diatribe, anyway. For whatever reason, he was more open and honest with Amy, and she clung to that tether.
He groaned. “Not you, too, Ames. Let a guy hold onto his pride, would you?”
She blinked up at him. “Don’t ever be ashamed for loving someone, regardless of whether they return those feelings.” He wouldn’t understand how rare it was a man existed who was honest about his emotions, who made no attempts to hide them. “This isn’t exactly the ending you were hoping for.”
Features softening, he met her eyes. “No, it wasn’t. I gave up on the idea of her and me a long time ago, though. Today, I merely closed the book. Did it hurt a little? Yeah. But not nearly as much as you’d think.”
Surprised by the honesty in his gaze, in his tone, she nodded.
“What about you?” His thumb stroked her palm, but he didn’t seem aware of the action. “This had to bring back memories of your wedding.”
Not really. Just her failures. “I didn’t have a wedding.”
“I remember.” His clipped tone gave her pause. He noticed her surprise because up went his brows. “You dated the guy for a few months. The next thing I know, I’m hearing from Olivia you got hitched at the courthouse.”
“I had no idea it bothered you so much.”
Again, he stopped moving. “Should I turn around? Easier for you to pull out the knife that way.”
“Nakos—”
“Damn right, it pissed me off. I hated the jerk. He was never nice to you. And to not tell me? To assume I wouldn’t want to be there for you? It was a sucky thing to do.”
Closing her eyes, she expelled a shaky breath. “You’re right. I’m sorry. It’s just...”
She’d been embarrassed. About everything. That she’d married the first guy who’d shown any sort of interest in her, no matter if it had been the wrong kind. That she’d agreed so quickly, without so much as him offering an engagement ring. That they didn’t have the money for anything, not even a bouquet.
Shaking her head, she focused on Nakos’s shirt, her cheeks hot. The mere thought of having him at the courthouse brought a level of shame she couldn’t escape. Which was why she hadn’t told him. Olivia, either. Kyle had been the only one to attend the service on Amy’s side, Chris’s brother Mark on the groom’s. Just recalling the impersonal room and empty vows she’d recited had misery taking up space in her chest.
Loneliness and desperation made people do stupid things. Like marry a man who didn’t love her, wouldn’t allow her to work, refused to support her interest in photography, or acknowledge her presence unless he was drunk enough to get it up.
“It’s just what?” Nakos’s soothing tone snapped her gaze to his. “Finish that sentence.”
Not on his life would she admit the whole truth. “I figured you’d try to stop me.”
Irritation, hurt, and determination crossed his features in rapid succession. “Looking back on it, would that have been such a bad thing?”
“I really don’t need your I-told-you-so’s.”
A lazy blink, and he sighed. “I wouldn’t have interfered, Ames. I would have, however, been there to support you. But you took the option away from me.”
Darn him. “I said I was sorry.”
His dark gaze swept across her face as if picking her apart. A caressing exploration over her hair, her cheeks, her lips, then back to her eyes. She had no idea what he found, but frustration tightened his full mouth. Like his lashes, his lips were a criminal waste on a man. So erringly seductive.
“Why did you do it?” His voice was a low rumble and barely heard over the music. “Why the hell did you marry that asshole?”
Unable to take it anymore, she wrenched away from him, causing his arms to fall limp at his sides. This topic had been off the table. For whatever reason, they hadn’t talked about it, and she was grateful. To bring it up now, to dissect and pick at the scab, wouldn’t allow for healing. A girl could only take so much before she shattered.
“Why, Ames?”
Screw it. It wasn’t like she had any confidence left. “He was the best I was going to get.”
Nakos flinched. “What the hell does that mean?”
Turning her back to his wide eyes and shocked, gutted expression, she started for the door. One tequila, two tequila, three tequila...floor. That was the only plan for the rest of the evening. She’d grab a bottle of Cuervo from the main house, walk forever and a day to the staff ranch cabins, and crawl in her brother’s room to get plastered.
Except a muscled arm wrapped around her middle from behind and lifted her off her feet, crushing her spine against a solid chest wall. “This discussion is not over, anim.”
Anim. He’d never used the word in her presence. She had no idea what it translated to in his native Arapaho tongue, but she suspected it was a curse.
With her toes hovering above the floor, he stalked toward the exit as if she weighed nothing. “We’re going to have a chat.”
“No, we’re not.”
“Yes, we are.” Stomp, stomp. “I’ve dealt with your particular brand of stubborn all my life. You think I don’t know how to handle you?”
Why was she getting turned-on? As in, she couldn’t draw air and heat coiled in her belly and her girly bits clenched. Alpha Nakos was hot.
Several heads swiveled toward them, trekking their progress across the room, around tables, and out the open doorway.
Her heel slipped off her foot. “I lost my shoe.”
“We’ll get it later, Cinderella.”
“You’re causing a scene.” She squirmed, but his hold was unrelenting.
“Don’t care.” He marched over the pebble-strewn grass, ducked around the corner, and deposited her on the ground out of sight from the celebration. Backing her against the barn’s wooden slats, he glared down at her, inches from bringing them in contact. “Explain.”
Dark shadows encased them. Crickets chirped. A warm breeze ruffled her hair. Fireflies winked in the distance. An owl hooted.
She. Said. Nothing.
He crossed his arms. “I can do this all night.”
Yeah, she was afraid of that.