Page 24 of Nashville Lights

With that, Daisy says goodnight to Nate and Dee carries her inside. “Goodnight, Miss Roxie!”

“Goodnight, Daisy.”

The door closes behind them.

Nate’s hands are in his pockets now and he watches me with light amusement as I stand here sort of speechless. He nods toward the covered seating area. “You want to sit outside? I’ve got bug candles and a diffuser thing Luke gave me that does a good job of keeping the bugs away. And I think there might be a bottle of wine in my fridge.”

“Okay.”

I follow him across the wide boards of the deck in awe, not only of the view but of the grandeur and just plain awesomeness of this house. “It’s amazing, Nate. Youbuiltthis?”

“I had a lot of help. I’ve got teams of architects and builders attached to my contracting business. Daisy’s dad Jed helped with the design. A lot of the ideas were his.”

We go up the stairs to the upper deck, where the state-of-the-art covered outdoor kitchen—complete with a fridge and a flat-screen TV—take full advantage of the stunning view and the clear night sky.

He opens the fridge. “I’ve got beer, white wine and sparkling water.”

“Wine sounds great.” I sit in one of the comfortable Adirondack chairs and try not to stare at how good his ass looks in those old Levis, or how they fit him in that uber-masculine way that’s making me feel warm and…tingly…in averyintimate place.

I’ve been alone with Nate Boone exactly two times in my life. The night in the barn when I kissed him and he kissed me back, and right now.

He pours me a glass and opens a beer for himself. Then he sits in the chair next to mine and half-grins in that slow, familiar way that used to beguile me. It has an even more profound effect on me now.

I might have been thirteen or fourteen when I first fell in love with Nate Boone. It was the kind of love that ruined me for anyone else. It’s still ruining me.

I didn’t even allow myself to admit that, until now. My psyche blocked it because I wasn’t allowed to have him, but it was always there.

But now, it’s as subtle as a freight train rolling through the middle of my world.

He was always the one.

Now all I have to do is to figure out what to do about it.

8

Roxie Tucker.Here. At my house.

For the first time in a very long time, I feel like I canbreatheagain. Like some unknowable weight has been lifted.

The weight of letting her go, and always knowing she was out there, alone and unprotected. The weight of knowing she could never be mine.

It’s only now, with her standing in front of me, that I can see it all clearly.

The past six months have been hard in a lot of ways, but hard is what I’m used to. I had to keep my head down and become the man my family needed me to be. And now I’m doing the same for Daisy.

I haven’t looked up for ten fucking years.

And it’s come at a cost. I’m not sure I know who I am or what I offer outside of my commitments to this family. Workand responsibility have consumed me for so long that it’s easy to forget what it feels like to simply enjoy someone else’s company.

Roxie Tucker isn’t justsomeone, of course.

She’s the addiction I’ve fought my whole life.

She was the one who was able to draw me out of my shell, even as kids. She was a rough-and-tumble little tomboy who could give as good as she could take. She was smart and sassy and she lit up every room.

They’re the same age, but Roxie has always seemed older than Dakota. And even Tobias. More savvy and more focused. While Tobias and Dakota were figuring out what directions to take with their lives, Roxie jumped into the role of managing her brothers’ band when she was barely out of high school—and did a damn good job of it. She is and always has been a firecracker.

There was nothing I could have done about our undeniable connection back then. She was still a kid.

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