Silent Hearts (Hamilton Stables 3) (9 page)

God, why the hell had he confessed his feelings?

So what if his brothers and the town thought he had feelings for her; that didn’t mean anything, or at least it didn’t have to. He could have denied it, made up something else, tucked away his desires for a safer time. But in that moment, her beautiful face before him, those soulful eyes of hers trained on him, he couldn’t hide his reaction. Now he might have ruined the only friendship he had left.

“Long time no see,” Mama V said as he parked beside the main barn.

As usual, the grounds were impeccable, all green and vibrant. The woods surrounding the farm full and beautiful. The white fencing had been painted recently and the main offices and barns renovated for the upcoming tour season. As Nick took in all the beauty of the farm where he was raised, he found himself wondering why he didn’t join the farm instead of Industries. Why he didn’t find a place here with his brothers instead of going out on his own with Industries? His father could have hired someone to run Industries when he retired, he could have promoted someone; there were a thousand options available.

Instead, Nick dove headfirst into Industries, when on the farm he would have been free of the stress of corporate life. Every day he could have stepped outside to fresh air and visited the horses, breathed a little.

But no, he chose the other path before him, never stopping to think whether he actually wanted to be a corporate man.

He thought of his high school dream of being a pro angler, how close he’d been, and then the decision to go to Northwestern, his father’s idea; a degree could only help him.

He’d met Britt his sophomore year and was immediately captivated by her. She was earthy in a worn book kind of way, an English lit major, with aspirations to seek her MFA and become a distinguished literary novelist/professor. And she was well on her way when tragedy struck.

She went in for her annual women’s checkup, and that was how they first found the lump in her breast. At first, no one was overly worried. She was healthy; tired but healthy. And then her blood work came back before she’d had the chance to get in for her CT scan, and suddenly everything was urgent.

The CT showed stage III breast cancer. She had more tumors hiding within her breasts that weren’t so easily detected by a breast exam. She was referred to an oncologist and her first surgery was scheduled, and they were hopeful. God, they were hopeful.

But then chemo and radiation, and more chemo and radiation, only to go back in to find the cancer still there, living despite all the chemicals they threw at it.

Nick would never forget the look on her doctor’s face when she told Britt they’d done all they could do. He was holding her when she took her last breath, and still to this day, he would wake sometimes and feel like he was back there, holding her, knowing any second would be his last with her and desperate to hold on just a few seconds longer.

He didn’t think he would survive her death, and in some ways he didn’t. The Nick he’d been before died along with her.

But now, so many years later, he wondered not if he’d ever loved her, because he knew he had, but if she was ever the right wife for him—the true love of his life. Though the thought made him feel sick to his core, he couldn’t deny the validity of the question.

She’d never fished with him, never taken a picture of him after a giant catch, and there was no way she ever would have done something as radical as learning to scuba dive.

Britt was the very opposite of Becca, and yet at the time she’d seemed like the perfect match for him. She was Ivy League, from a solid family, had Southern roots in Alabama, with her mother’s grandparents. And Nick’s mother adored her immediately, though it was hard not to. Britt was polite to a fault, forever smiling, never loud or inappropriate. But that also meant she was never wild, never free-spirited, never adventurous. Which was fine. One didn’t have to be adventurous, but the problem was—Nick was.

At heart, at root, in his joints and bones and muscles, he craved T-shirts rather than pressed button downs, wet suits rather than business suits. It surprised him to think about it, but his years of diving with his brothers out in the Gulf, in Fiji, hundreds of different dives, had been some of the best memories of his life.

But there was a woman who thrived on those same things, who may never be athletic but craved the wind against her face all the same. How had he not seen that before?

Nick had a perfect match and she’d been there all along. From the awkward little girl to the sassy teen to a woman who put her life on hold to take care of her grandmother. He had a match and her name was Becca Stark.

“Honey, are you all right?”

Nick glanced past Mama V to the main barn, then the training ring nearby. “Is Trip around?”

“He’s at the track.”

“Alex?”

“Visiting Trifecta Farms to pick up that new stallion.”

“Dammit.” Nick released a breath. “What now?”

“Why don’t you come inside for a beat?” Mama V said, motioning to her house on the farm, where she kept her kitchen running and open for the farm’s staff.

Nick hesitated. He never talked about his feelings, and he had a strict rule never to reveal too much of himself to the staff. What might they think if he showed all his weaknesses? But Mama V was different. She’d been around since he was little, was best friends with his mother, knew him on that deeper level that came from watching a boy become a man.

“Come on. Let me mother you a little.”

With reluctance, he stepped through the door directly into the kitchen, the smell of bread baking hitting his nose. “You know, Mama V, you could give Patty and Annie-Jean a run for their money.”

The old woman winked. “Why don’t you ask Patty who taught her how to bake sometime?”

That had Nick laughing. Patty acted as though she’d invented the Bundt cake and would freeze you with her glare if you tried to suggest otherwise. “Really, now? I had no idea. She’d be angry if she heard you telling people that.”

Mama V waved the comment off as ridiculous. “Patty’s parents used to live beside me and Earl years ago. She used to pop in every day after school and I’d teach her a thing or two. Before long, she went from making mud pies to real pies. The rest is history, I guess.”

“Wow, V, you really are a legend around Triple Run.”

The old woman smiled. “I do my best, but we aren’t here to talk about me.” She set down a plate with a slice of banana nut bread on it and placed a cup of black coffee beside it. Nick took a long sip, thankful he’d stopped by, or else he was liable to do something really stupid, like call Becca and scream that he loved her, why couldn’t she just love him back?

“What’s troubling you, son? Is this about a girl?”

Nick’s gaze snapped over. “How did you . . . ?”

Her grin spread. “Whenever a man looks dumbfounded, I know it involves a woman.”

“Well . . . it’s . . . see it’s . . .” He trailed off, unsure exactly where to begin. Then he remembered that Mama V knew Becca, had watched her grow up with the boys around the farm. “You know Becca Stark?”

“Honey, everybody knows Becca. No one could forget a face like that, plus her smile? It’d lighten the darkest night.”
Wasn’t that the damn truth?
“But something tells me you know that.”

“I made a mistake. We’ve been friends forever, and I adore her. I need her. She’s my best friend. After Dad died, I had no one. Only Becca, and now . . .”

She tossed up a finger to stop him. “Well, now, that’s not true. Your brothers are your blood. They love you. And this farm loves you. This is your home.”

Nick stared out the kitchen windows to the staff walking by, to the ones working horses on the grounds. She was right. Most of these people had been with them for years, for much of Nick’s life.

“But just because you have other people doesn’t mean those people can fill the void. Becca fills your void.”

Swallowing hard, Nick peered back over at Mama V. “Like no one else ever has.”

“Then tell her. She loves you, too, boy. Surely you see that.”

“She didn’t say anything.”

“When you told her you loved her?”

Nick paused, rethinking the conversation. “I didn’t actually tell her that.”

“Then what did you say?”

Suddenly, Nick stood up. “Nothing. I told her others suspected we were together, that I cared for her.”

“But you didn’t confirm it?”

Nick ran through the conversation again. He hadn’t told her a damn thing. Was that why she’d frozen up? Because he’d said all those things without confirming them? He didn’t know, but it was time he found out.

“Where are you going?” Mama V called as he started for the door.

He winked back at her. “To see about a girl.”

B
ecca decided that Carrie Underwood sang songs especially for her, because right that second she totally needed a “Smoke Break,” though she’d never smoked a day in her life, and to be “Blown Away” so she no longer had to feel any more ... or see anyone in town who could remind her of all the things she’d never have.

Her heart hurt in a way she’d never experienced before. The closest was when Nick had come home that summer before his junior year, Britt beside him, and that goofy grin on his face that said he was in love. Only it wasn’t directed at her, like she’d always dreamed. She’d put on makeup and fixed her hair and tried her best to look like a girl Nick would want, and the realization that she wasn’t that girl had been devastating. His smile wasn’t for her. It was for another girl, and that was the day she’d had a heart-to-heart with herself about Nick Hamilton. He would never be hers, never see her as more.

And today did nothing more than confirm that harsh reality.

She took another long sip of her beer, because she still had it in her fridge from when Nick was there last, and though she hated the taste of the stuff, she needed something to keep from falling over the edge into depression oblivion.

Because she was close. Closer than she’d ever been in her life. Even when her grandmother died and her heart was broken, she knew she had others around to support her and help her deal with the pain. Nick was around. But with him being the reason for her heartache, she had no one to turn to.

The thought of Nick being with a doctor girlfriend had been a tough pill to swallow, but then he’d told her that there wasn’t a girlfriend and they’d been talking about her, and for a moment her heart had soared. Finally, finally, he was seeing her. He had realized what she’d realized in that first game of tag—they were meant to be together.

But then he’d just stared at her, with her staring back, never confirming that what they said meant anything at all, and she knew why—to him it was a giant joke. Nick falling for Becca; oh, how hilarious.

She took another long pull of her beer and grimaced, kicking her feet against her back porch so the swing she’d collapsed into would move, her arm draped over her eyes so she wouldn’t have to look at the sun bragging about how big and bright it was. Becca was a mess, a giant, humiliated mess. Carrie Underwood should sing a song about her life. It’d sell a million copies, and people would sing and sing about how pitiful it was to love a man who would never love you back.

Dear God, she was now comparing her life to sad country songs.

Another sip of beer had her grimacing, and she tried to set the beer down on the porch without looking up at the arrogant sun and narrowly kept from falling out of the swing.

“Give me that before you fall on your face. Besides, you hate beer.”

Becca lifted her arm to peer at the man leaning against the railing on her porch, his arms crossed over his chest. He wore a Hamilton Stables T-shirt and worn jeans, reminding Becca of the boy she’d once known. Long before the Ivy League education and three-thousand-dollar suits, long before the fiancée and the deaths that had all but destroyed him.

“What are you doing here?”

“I had something important to tell you.”

“Okay?”

“I want you.”

The beer bottle slipped from her grasp and she tried to grab it, but agile Becca was not, so the bottle shattered into a thousand pieces on her porch. “Crap.”

“See.”

She glanced up, her heartbeat picking up speed. “What did you just say?”

“I said ‘see.’”

“No, before that.”

Nick smiled at her, the picture of ease as he took a step toward her, then two. “I said I want you. I wanted you at eight. I wanted you at eighteen. And I want you now. That part has never been in question. Doubt whatever you want, but don’t doubt that. I want you. Trip and Alex, the town, they all think you’re my match because I can’t stop talking about you, can’t even look at anyone else. For me, there’s only ever been you.”

“But what about our friendship?”

Nick edged one step closer, but the impact on her heart had the weight of a thousand. It felt like they’d been walking toward each other for a lifetime, only to finally find the right route.

Tentatively, he reached out, his gaze trained on her hand as he linked his fingers through hers. Like something miraculous was happening, and maybe, just maybe, it was. “I don’t know.” Then he flicked his eyes up to meet hers. “But if I don’t do this, I’m going to go insane.”

And then in one more move he had her in his arms, his face coming down to meet hers as he captured her lips with his, a soft groan escaping him as though he finally had the one thing he’d always craved. He cradled her face in his large hands and beckoned her lips to part, his tongue slipping inside, commanding her into his world, all control lost. All thought gone, all worry dispelled as their bodies melded together. Becca pushed herself closer and closer to him, terrified that if she let go he would leave. The dream would be over.

Finally, Nick pulled away, his breath heavy, his eyes dark with emotion and need. “That was ... I . . .” And then, instead of continuing, he leaned in again, the sweet kiss from before turning even more intense. He pecked her lips once more before struggling to pull away. “I’ve dreamed of doing that for years, but I had no idea it would be like that.”

Becca tried to take a step back so she could think, but he secured her to him. “Na-ah. I’ve just gotten you. I don’t want to let you go.”

“But see, that’s just it. You haven’t just gotten me. You’ve always had me.” Becca bit her lip. “And I’m not sure my heart could take the letdown if this ends and our friendship is ruined.”

Hints of night sounded all around them—crickets playing their melody, leaves rustling in the gentle breeze. The moment drew on, before Nick finally took his own step back, his hands on his hips. “What do we do? I don’t want to ruin it either, but I want this. Good God, do I ever want this.”

“Enough to risk our friendship?”

When Nick’s face fell, she had her answer. He started to say something when she waved him off. “It’s okay.”

“No. Nothing about this is okay. Why does it have to be all or nothing? Can we try to still be friends if it doesn’t work? Though with a kiss like that, how could it not work?”

Becca laughed, and he took her hand, pressing a soft kiss to it before linking his fingers through hers. “Can we at least think about it?”

“Yes, let’s think about it. Thinking sounds good.”

“But for today, can we go back to kissing?”

Another laugh escaped her. “How about we go out to dinner instead? A safe zone.”

“You should know that I’ll just be thinking about kissing you.”

Becca leaned in and easily kissed his lips once more, unable to stay away.

“I hope so.”

 

Nick pulled into Balls, Clowns, and Other Fun Stuff, the only miniature golf place in the area. It was located smack between Triple Run and Crestler’s Key, so Chester Young, the owner, wouldn’t have to claim to be in one town or the other and could garner business from both towns.

The name was as tacky as the putt-putt site itself, and most of the mothers around town refused to bring their kids there on principle alone. So the place was far more likely to be filled with teens and adults than children, and very few from Triple Run.

The whole place bordered on the inappropriate, and the clowns were reminiscent of that freakish one in the movie
It
. Yet, as Nick parked and smiled over at Becca, he knew this was the very place they needed to be. Away from the regular crowd and the gossip that surrounded them there, a beautiful twinkling night sky above them, and enough people around to keep them on the good side.

If in action alone.

“Putt-putt golf.” Becca shut the car door and started toward the entrance, then stopped and cocked her head. “Wow, that’s . . . something else.”

Nick’s smile took over his face as he fought to rein in his laughter. To enter the putt-putt area, you had to walk through two giant clowns high-fiving each other, while their other hands were coyly covering their mouths, their eyes glancing away. “You realize this place makes the trustees’ list of businesses to ban every single month.”

Nick laughed. “Yeah, but you gotta admit Chester had balls to build a place like this, and it’s never dead here. He makes a killing and nothing about it is too obvious.”

“Yeah, but it’s tasteless.”

“Yep. And the very place we needed to hang out tonight. A little outside-the-norm fun. Besides, they sell popcorn, and you know you can never refuse that fake popcorn stuff.”

A smile played at Becca’s lips as she peered over at him, causing that heat in his stomach to rekindle to life. Now that they’d kissed, he ached to do it again, the need within him and the desire to feel her against him enough to make it impossible to be around her without touching her.

Yet he knew if he did, if he held her hand, he’d pull her to him, he’d press his lips to hers, eager to see if she made the small satisfied sounds every time he kissed her or if that was just part of the first-kiss wonder.

But still ... those sounds, her lips, the thought of those long legs of hers wrapped around his waist as he—

“Nick? You coming?”

He’d stopped walking without realizing it.

“And why are you staring at me like that?”

His gaze lifted from the legs in question to her face. “You’re beautiful, that’s why. It’s hard to be around you without staring.”

The small smile crept across her face. “You’re going to have to hide that charm if we’re going to really think about this in the way we should.”

“Fine. I’ll hide my charm if you hide your legs, because right now I’m having terribly inappropriate visions of them, and I’d hate to have an accident or something because I’m unable to focus.”

“You’re such a flirt.”

“Only with you.”

Nick realized how true that statement was, though he’d said it to her a thousand times, and wondered how long he’d had a thing for Becca. He knew he’d always been attracted to her, but this felt like something different. Something more.

And that scared the shit out of him.

He cared for Becca, and damn if he didn’t want to find out what sounds she’d make in bed, but could he really do the relationship thing again? Could he risk falling head over heels for her and then losing her? He wasn’t sure he’d survive losing another person he loved.

But as they paid at the entrance, slap between the legs of the two clowns, Becca giggling up at them, he realized for now he didn’t have to worry about it. And he didn’t want to. For now, avoidance was the name of the game—with selling Industries and with worry over a commitment with Becca. Because Trip had been right about one thing: Nick had lost enough to realize the value of living in the moment. And he was ready to do just that.

“All right, it looks like Mr. Couldn’t Wait on the Potty to Open Up is number one.” Becca pointed to the first hole, and sure enough, there was a giant clown beside the hole spraying water from a flower in his hand, but with Chester’s humor, the flower was positioned so that at first glance it looked like the clown was peeing across the green into the water running on the opposite side.

“Well, if a man’s got to go, a man’s got to go.”

She grinned. “Reminds me of that time we got lost in the woods trying to find that field with the baby calf and I had to go to the bathroom, and you told me just to go and I told you I couldn’t just go in the woods, and you said, ‘sure you can, watch.’ Then you walked around a tree and nodded like I should find my own tree.”

“Hey! I was nine and clearly an idiot.”

“No doubt there. But you were a cute idiot.”

He brushed his shoulder against hers. “You were cute, too. Still are.”

“No charm, remember?” She pointed at him as she swung her putter, missing the hole by an inch. “Dammit, so close.”

Nick edged around her, trailing his hand around her as he moved, and leaned in, drawing in her summertime scent. “Very close indeed.” She turned toward him, their faces a breath apart, and that was when he heard his name being shouted from the entrance.

They jumped apart, and he searched the entrance for the source of the shouting, to find Trip, Emery, Alex, and Kate all waving at them. And starting their way.

“Just my luck.”

“Be nice,” Becca said.

“I’m always nice.”

“To me.”

“You’re the only one who matters.”

Becca’s gaze fell on his. “I don’t know what to do when you say things like that. I mean, are these the kinds of things you’ve been thinking all along? And you’re wrong. You’re the nice Hamilton, always have been. Don’t let whatever is going on between you and them keep you from being yourself. You’re not a jerk.”

“What if I want to be a jerk?”

“Too bad, you’re not. And they’re your family,” Becca managed to add before the brothers were before them, and Nick’s jaw ticked.

“Hey.” With a quick glance at his brothers, Nick walked around Becca, focused on the hole, and knocked his ball in.

Trip started to ask something, when another shout had them all look up, and Nick groaned. Clearly, he’d chosen the worst place on the planet to be semialone with Becca.

“Charlie!” Kate rushed up to her brother, hugging him close. “When did you get back? I thought you were at that farmer’s convention out west.”

Charlie grinned down at his sister. “Made it back a few hours ago, and we decided to head here instead of to a bar.”

“We?” Nick asked, and then his agitation spiked as Charlie’s gaze fell on him and he smirked before flipping his attention to Nick’s left.

“Becca! Good to see you again.” He reached a hand over to her and she shook it. “Seems like I hear your name all the time.” And that was when Zac and Brady appeared beside their brother, all three of them dressed in Southern Dive T-shirts and jeans, like some poster in a freaking magazine.