Hard-Riding Cowboy (Kinky Spurs #3) Page 16

  She held his stare, just wanting him. Like this. Together.

  He cupped her face, brushing his thumbs beneath her eyes. “When you look at me like this, you fucking own me.”

  “Nash,” she whispered, emotion intertwining with the pleasure.

  His jaw clenched and unclenched before a low moan passed through his mouth and he began rocking into her. Hard.

  She forced herself to look at him until the very last second when the pleasure washed over them both. There wasn’t much she remembered after the first wave of sensation hitting, except for one thing which somehow broke her heart and warmed it at the same time.

  The last thing Nash said.

  “Don’t hide from me again. You’re all I’ve got.”

  Chapter 14

  The following few days were uneventful. Nash had done his best to stay clear of Clint. He’d seen Clint once in the grocery store, and Clint scowled in his direction. Nash glared back, and that was that. Except for that slight annoyance, his days were good. He spent the early mornings deep inside Megan when she came home after working her late shift. And he spent the remainder of his day at the ranch, trying to make sure everything worked like clockwork. With the one-star reviews on his mind, he needed a good month of perfection to get some better reviews to outweigh the negative. Everything had fallen back into the normal show . . . until the night of the music festival when Nash, along his brothers, stood dumbfounded as their mother walked down the porch steps of Shep’s farmhouse, with Harper and Emma behind her. Ma wore a white dress with a yellow cardigan. Her hair was down, and there was some sparkle on her eyelids. Nash blinked and squinted a little, barely recognizing his mother.

  “You look beautiful, Ma,” said Shep, finally breaking the silence.

  Chase whistled.

  Ma laughed softly, her eyes twinkling. “Oh, stop. All this fuss. It’s silly.”

  Instinctively Nash wanted to shut this down before it even started. His mother belonged to his father. She was a Blackshaw. But that certain twinkle in her eye had been gone since their father passed. Something deep in his chest split wide open, warming cold spots. Something that had him walking forward. “It’s not silly,” he said before kissing her cheek. “You look really pretty, Ma.”

  When he moved away, she gave him a sweet smile. “Thank you. Now can we stop all the fussing and go?”

  Shep gave a firm nod and cupped Nash’s uninjured shoulder as he strode by. Obviously, Shep was proud that Nash had kept his mouth shut about their father, letting Ma be happy. Damn. There Nash went, being all soft again.

  Megan. Yeah, she did this to him. But this was a change he didn’t mind. She was good for him. He’d always known she would be.

  Twenty minutes later, Nash leaned against one of the shade trees in the park, taking in the festival. Straight ahead was the Kinky Spurs band playing a Tim McGraw cover. The crowd was positioned around the stage, either dancing on the dance floor or sitting on the grass or the picnic tables spread throughout the grounds. The food trucks were off to the right, and a small area of vendors set up selling their homemade items. To the left were the breweries, all serving up the best beer. Three Chicks Brewery always drew a big crowd, not only for the beers but because the three Carter sisters who owned the brewery were easy on the eyes. Chase had dated the middle sister, Amelia, for a short time in high school.

  Nash was huddled next to his family. Shep and Chase were sitting on top of the picnic table, while Harper and Emma sat on the bench. They had been chatting for the last half hour about Emma’s ideas for her and Shep’s honeymoon in a couple of months once work settled down. A trip to Maui was at the top of that list.

  Ahead of Nash was a view that he’d been trying not to pay much attention to, but failing miserably. His mother stood close to the doctor. She held a glass of wine in one hand and her other hand kept reaching out and touching the dear doctor every time Clay made her laugh. Which was a lot.

  “She seems happy.”

  Nash’s chest warmed, and he smiled, reaching for Megan and pulling her in close. Her flowery perfume infused the air and he drank it in. She wore black stretchy pants and a long purple blouse with black flat shoes. She was a jeans-and-tank-top type of girl, so the look lifted his eyebrow.

  “Yeah, I know,” she said with a heavy sigh. “I can’t wear jeans anymore. They’re uncomfortable.”

  “Ah.” He gave her a quick kiss, loving how she reached for more. “Blackshaws are strong. My boy is getting bigger every day.”

  She gave him a cute, easy smile. “And how do you know it’s a boy?”

  He didn’t, of course. Still . . . “Call it a gut feeling.”

  She laughed softly and shook her head, then rose up on her tiptoes, bringing her mouth closer. Yeah, he wanted more too. Her hands spread out on his chest while he dropped his head and kissed her again. He kept the kiss short and sweet, knowing the whole town was likely watching them.

  He leaned away to kiss her forehead. Yup, people were watching. The gossipers in town, for sure. Not like he gave a shit. He wanted everyone to know they were together now and she carried his child. And that they were a strong, solid front. Christ, he liked that a lot more than he anticipated. Damn. He was becoming sappy, for fuck’s sake.

  “You’re really okay with this?”

  He looked down into Megan’s pretty eyes that were all for him, sliding his knuckles across her cheek. “Okay with what?”

  She gestured straight ahead with a knowing look. “With your mom dating again?”

  At that, he arched an eyebrow. “You think I wouldn’t be okay with her dating again?”

  “Oh, hell, yes, I know you would normally hate this.” She nodded firmly. “You’re not the most flexible when it comes to your family.”

  That was true. Keeping his arms tight around Megan, he looked at his mother again. At her smile. “My dad would want this for her.” He leaned back down to Megan again and gave her a knowing smile right back. “There are times I know when to keep my mouth shut. And this so happens to be one of those times.”

  “Sometimes, Nash Blackshaw, you surprise the hell out of me.” She went up on her tiptoes again and warmed him with her kiss. A little too warm for a crowd. When she broke away, they were both breathless. “You’re a good man.”

  She momentarily stunned him with those words, and he felt like the world suddenly stopped turning. It’d been a long time since someone had told him he was a good man. Truth be told, after the accident, he’d half-assed life, and he knew why. To avoid the misery sitting even now in the center of his chest. That pain was there, squeezing and pulsing, threatening to drown him. Though over the last few weeks, something had changed.

  He could see past that pain.

  And that felt good.

  Real good.

  The music suddenly shifted to a slow song, and Nash took Megan’s hand.

  She dug in her heels. “Um, no.”

  “Oh, yeah, baby, we’re doing this.” He grinned back and tugged her forward until they were in front of the band. Alone. The entire town watched them. Megan’s cheeks were bright red when he pulled her in close, taking her hand and tucking his head into her neck. She smelled like flowers and sugar and his. He pressed a kiss to her pulse, finding her heart rate hammering. That made him smile.

  “Relax,” he said softly in her ear. “Be here with me.”

  “You and the entire town,” she muttered.

  He chuckled and went to look into those fiery eyes of hers. When he did, his gaze connected with Clint standing across the park. Megan’s mother was chatting it up with someone. Probably about Megan’s pregnancy. Clint, on the other hand, glared right at Nash.

  Nash brought Megan even closer, sprawling his hand across her lower back. Suddenly, something occurred to Nash. Before now, he’d have made a statement to Clint, showing Clint that Megan was his now. He would have glared back. He’d never have looked away first in their staredown. It was an unspoken show of weakness.

 
But everything was different now. Especially with this sweet woman against him, thinking he was a good man. Nothing else mattered but that.

  Nash brushed his lips against Megan’s pulse again, and she shivered, all but vibrating in his arms. He swayed their hips together, keeping to the rhythm of the beat. There was a certain peace he’d found in the quiet with her. His life, including his relationship with Megan, had been a struggle from day one. A push and pull. And yet, he always thought the quiet would bore him.

  He’d never been so wrong.

  Nash slid his fingers slowly up and down her back, and she melted into him. Christ, he loved when she did that.

  “You’re vibrating,” she said, breaking the silence.

  He nipped her earlobe, and she shivered again. “That’s you vibrating, Freckles.”

  She laughed softly, moved away, and gave him a cute look. “No, your phone is vibrating.”

  Damn. He realized she was right. His cell rang in his pocket. He grabbed his phone and looked at the screen. Beckett. “What’s up?” Nash answered the phone.

  “Hey, Nash. You gotta get out to the ranch,” Beckett said, voice strained. “The guests have food poisoning.”

  “The guests?” All the heat Megan had stirred in Nash now became ice cold. “Not all of them.”

  A pause. Then, confirming Nash’s worst thought, Beckett said, “Buddy, it’s bad. You need to get here. Now.”

  The line went dead, and Nash reached for Megan’s hand. “Trouble at the ranch.” He beelined for Shep.

  Megan dug in her heels a little. “What happened?”

  “The guests have food poisoning.” He hurried to Shep but first said to Megan, “Please stay with Ma.” The last thing he wanted to do was ruin his mother’s night. But he also didn’t want to leave her alone.

  Megan nodded, concern heavy in her eyes. “Yes, of course I will.”

  Shep was already rising from the picnic bench. “What’s wrong?”

  “There’s a problem at the ranch. We need to go.”

  Chase dropped a kiss to Harper’s forehead. “Stay with Megan.” He grabbed his keys from his pocket. “Take Ma home later.”

  “Yeah, okay,” Harper said, brows furrowed tight.

  With the music now a loud hum in Nash’s ears, he worked his way through the crowd. Once he made it to the food trucks, Shep, Emma, and Chase caught up with him.

  “Is it bad?” Shep asked.

  Nash hurried forward. “Yeah, it’s bad.”

  Minutes later, they were in Nash’s truck. He explained what Beckett had told him on the phone, and then there was silence. Heavy silence. The kind of silence where deep worry lived.

  By the time they finally made it to the ranch, the scene was worse than Nash had imagined. Twenty cars were there, including police cars, ambulances, and fire trucks. But the bigger issue was the little kids vomiting into plastic bags, and the guests being put into cars and ambulances, obviously on their way to the hospital.

  Nash slammed the truck’s door behind him and jogged toward Beckett. “What in the fuck happened?” he demanded.

  Beckett took off his cowboy hat and ran a hand over his hair, concern tightening the corners of his eyes. “I haven’t a fucking clue. We had dinner, like usual. Everyone was fine. Then as I was about to leave for the night, I saw a few people running for the bathroom”—he paused and then cringed—“and then all hell broke loose.”

  Nash glanced over Beckett’s face. “You don’t look sick.”

  “I’ve got a date later, so I didn’t eat the dinner.” He replaced his hat and frowned. “And I’m thanking God for that.” He gestured behind him at Hayes, who was hurling into Ma’s potted plant. “Hayes wasn’t so lucky.”

  “Jesus,” Nash breathed.

  Beckett nodded. “I called in as many people as I knew who wouldn’t mind transporting the guests to the hospital.” He glanced out at the sight of pure chaos. “I believe we’ve got enough drivers now.”

  Nash cupped Beckett’s shoulder. “Damn, I owe you. Thank you for handling this.”

  “You’re welcome, buddy.” Beckett gave a tight grin. “Now, if you’re back, I’m outta here. I’ve had enough of watching people vomit.”

  Nash just inclined his head then watched Shep, Emma, and Chase move to the sick guests sitting on the porch. They weren’t vomiting, but they looked about a second away from it.

  “It was the beef.”

  Nash glanced over his shoulder, finding Darryl, a cop with River Rock’s police department, and a guy who was in the same graduating class as Chase in high school. He was in shape, he had a scruffy beard and dark hard eyes, and his expression was about as grim as Nash had ever seen. “The beef?”

  Darryl nodded and leaned against the car closest to him. “After talking to the guests, everyone who got sick ate one common food. The beef.”

  “That’s impossible,” Nash insisted. The beef they served at the guest ranch came directly from Blackshaw’s Meat Company downtown.

  Darryl gave a knowing look. “I’m not sure what to tell you, Nash. The beef seems to be the culprit. I’ve sent some samples off for testing, so we’ll know for sure in about a week.”

  Fuck.

  A poor little girl violently retched into a bag then cried for her mother. This was bad. The same cold shiver ran up his spine as it had with the fire. “Do me a favor. When you test that beef, can you test it for any drugs or chemicals?”

  Darryl’s brows rose. “You think someone purposely did this to these poor people?”

  “I have suspicions, yes.” No, he knew full well someone was trying to sabotage the guest ranch. Before he’d had suspicions, and now they were confirmed. Blackshaw Cattle Company was top-notch. They wouldn’t have bad beef. And that wasn’t ego talking. That was fact. He simply didn’t feel the need to explain all that to Darryl right now. “Besides, the fire marshal thought the fire seemed purposely set.”

  Darryl nodded. “Yeah, I heard that, but he also told me that while they found the gas tanks, they couldn’t find evidence of who planted them.” When Nash parted his lips, Darryl lifted a hand. “I’ll look into it, Nash. The fire, now this, it’s a little too coincidental for my liking too.” He paused to study Nash, then cocked his head and asked, “Tell me this, though: Have you done something to piss anyone off lately?”

  Nash snorted. “Knocked up Clint Harrison’s daughter.”

  Darryl’s mouth twitched. Obviously he had already heard the news. “While Clint’s a . . .” the side of his mouth curved, “. . . tough nut, I doubt he’d stoop this low.”

  “When a man is pushed hard enough, you don’t know what he could do,” Nash muttered beneath his breath, even though Nash hard trouble picturing Clint wanting the land bad enough that he’d poison people. Cutting the fence, yeah, that stank of Clint. But this move seemed desperate. And Clint wasn’t a desperate man.

  Darryl’s hard-cop expression slid back into place. “You have no other enemies. You or your brothers?”

  “No.”

  Darryl cringed as a woman walked by and threw up into a plastic bag before getting into one of Beckett’s friends’ cars. “Yeah, I’ll definitely get the lab to test the meat for any evidence that it’s been tampered with.”

  “Thank you.” Nash offered his hand. “Really. I appreciate it.”

  Darryl returned the handshake then glanced at the little girl being sick who Nash had noticed earlier. He frowned back at Nash. “When you get a chance, can you shoot me over the names of your employees? I’ll look into them, just in case.”

  The thought made Nash’s stomach roil. “Yeah, I can, but let’s hope that’s not the case.”

  Darryl gave a measured look and moved away from the car. “Sadly, most times, it’s the people closest to you that burn you.”

  He seemed to be talking from experience, but Nash kept the thought to himself as Darryl turned away, heading to his cruiser. When Nash focused back on the guests, most of the cars had cleared out, along with the few ambu
lances. He moved to Shep, Emma, and Chase, who stood at the front of the house. “Darryl thinks it was the beef,” he said when he reached them.

  “Not our beef,” Shep said.

  Nash sighed, seeing on his brothers’ faces the shock he felt himself. “Now do you believe me?” Nash knew it down to his bones. Someone was dead set on ruining their good name. Though, while he suspected Clint had some involvement, this time he was wise enough not to say the bastard’s name.

  Shep’s lips pressed into a firm line. “Before I had doubts, but now . . .” He cocked his head. “Darryl really said it was our beef?”

  Nash nodded.

  “Well, fuck,” Chase muttered. “We all know contaminated beef would never get through the company.”

  “Yeah, no shit,” Nash agreed.

  There was a long pause. Emma stared at all of them for answers that no one seemed to have. All Nash knew was that he wanted Megan there. And yet, at the same time, he wasn’t sure he could hide the fact that he thought her father was behind this.

  His chest began to tighten. Air seemed impossible to inhale.

  The loaded silence continued, filled with so many unanswered questions, until Chase asked, “How do we even begin to fix this?”

  They all looked to Emma.

  She gave a tight smiled and pointed to herself. “Marketing expert, right?”

  Shep slid an arm around her. “It is your area of expertise, beautiful.”

  She smiled warmly at him then tapped a finger against her lip. “All right. Here’s what we’ll do.” Bright-eyed, she glanced between them. “We contact the newspaper.”

  Nash snorted. “We’re trying to avoid the media, Emma, not seek them out.”

  “But that could bite us in the ass,” she countered. “We need to get ahead of this story and control the narrative. So, let’s contact that reporter who did such an amazing story on the ranch before. We can give her a quote that we take this matter very seriously. That we are investigating fully and will report our findings when we have them.”