“Not as much as I should be.” She stroked Monica’s forehead. “After the last stuff with the chocolate penis and oiling the stripper’s butt, it doesn’t seem so bad. I mean, we didn’t do anything wrong.”
“It must be hard having your every move watched.”
“And then some,” she said, leaning in to kiss him. “Ouch!” Monica had nipped her shirt.
“Back it up, pony,” he said, and the little horse snorted and tossed her head. “We need to feed her, or she’ll start eating your clothing. Which is good from where I’m standing as it would leave you naked.”
“I need to change.”
“Why? No one else is here.”
She wasn’t sure how to handle that, so Nash lifted her to her feet. Then headed with the pony trotting behind him into the shed. Luna followed, and they fed the animals.
“Show me around your house. Nash.”
He did, explaining each room and what he wanted the end result to be.
“It will be amazing. That window there should have a built-in seat,” Luna said.
He looked to where she pointed. It would look good, but if he put it in now and she didn’t come back or feature in his life, he’d see her every time he sat on it.
And what the hell is wrong with you?he asked himself. Nash didn’t think like this. He didn’t care about having a woman in his life. Care about how they felt or needed.
“Can we eat something now?” Luna asked him.
But he cared about her, he realized. Cared way more than he should.
“We could, but as I have no food that may be difficult.”
“Why do you have no food?” She braced her hands on her hips.
“I eat at Mom and Dad’s or in town. I usually pick up things each day, but I haven’t in a few.” He shrugged.
“That’s just weird,” she said as his phone rang again.
“I need to turn this off. I never get this many calls in a day. Hello,” he said, answering it. “Hey, Dad.”
Nash listened to what his dad said in stony silence. Luna was watching him, her eyes locked on his until he ended the call.
“What?”
“The press has been ringing my parents’ house all day. Apparently, they couldn’t reach me, but went for the next best thing. When they got sick of the brush-off, a reporter and cameraman drove up my parents’ drive and tried to get an interview. Dad and Ford told them to leave. They did, but not before having a nose around the property and taking pictures.”
“I’m sorry.” She looked ready to cry.
“One of those sorry sons of bitches left a gate open. Some horses got out.”
“Did they get them back?”
“One ran out onto the road and got spooked and tangled in a fence. Dad’s not sure he’ll make it. The vet is there now.”
The color drained from her face, but Nash was too angry to care. It was his horse. He’d broken Rebel and trained him. He was Nash’s baby.
“That’s my fucking horse, Luna,” he snarled.
“I’m sorry.” Her words were a ragged whisper.
“It’s not your fault,” Nash said. But he knew this was what happened when you went with emotion and not rational thought. This is what happened when you decided to change and let people in. Shit happened, and now his family were being hounded and his horse could die.