“Hard to say, but as I like control, my guess is yes.”
“What’s happening to make you feel this way?”
Nash felt his shoulders climb to his ears. This wasn’t how he worked. He didn’t like talking about personal stuff.
“You started the conversation; now talk.” Ford turned onto the main street.
“These people keep inviting me to things.”
“Which you enjoy deep down. What else is bothering you.”
“Do I? Enjoy it, I mean?”
“Seems like, because even Mom said she thought you’d come out of yourself a bit. Dad said you instigated a conversation the other day.”
“Life was simple when I was just the grumpy Winter.”
“Everyone changes, bro.”
He waved to Mrs. L, who was cleaning her front window.
“So you want to talk about Luna?”
“No.”
“She’s got you tied in knots though, right?”
“It’s complicated, and neither of us are those kinds of people.”
“Those kinds of people?”
“She lives in Chicago, is likely worth millions, and lives a life I hate.”
“People and situations change, Nash.”
“I can’t leave here, Ford. This is my life. This place, the ranch, and my land, they’re part of me.”
“Even for love?”
“What? I don’t love her.”Holy shit, surely not?
“Well, that’s good then. It won’t be a big deal when she goes.”
As they were pulling into a park on the street not far from A.S., the conversation stopped, but he knew Ford wouldn’t forget. The large tight ball that had formed inside his chest at the words “when she goes” told him he was way more invested in Luna than he’d ever intended to be.
“Talk more later, and I’m proud of you for opening up to me.” Ford raised a fist, and Nash bumped it with his.
“I feel a rash forming,” Nash muttered.
Ford laughed.
Joe Trainer’s bar was called Apple Sours, and the letters A.S. were lit with bulbs, which they walked under to enter the place. It was big, spacious, and there was a restaurant if people wanted to sit. The bar was a slab of polished wood, and there were plenty of tables and bar leaners for people to stay or sit at. Nash had spent time looking at the wall of black-and-white photos of famous people when he’d first come here for a drink with Fin and Maggs.
“Well, now the tone just lowered, the SRR boys are in town,” Fin said. “Nash, Ford, this is Jake McBride. He’s from Lake Howling. It’s not a bad place, but nothing like Ryker.”
Dark-haired and green-eyed, Jake gave Fin a slow smile before shaking his head.
“Jealousy makes you ugly, bud,” he said.