Hard-Riding Cowboy (Kinky Spurs 3)

When Nash arrived at the farm, he parked his truck behind the row of cars and spotted Shep standing near the stairs on the porch. Fuck. He was late. And his brother was seething.

Not quite sure what he’d done now to piss off Shep, on top of pissing off everyone else in his life, Nash sighed and exited the truck. He’d meant to get there on time, but Beckett had offered to watch the kittens tonight while Nash made things right with Megan, and Gus seemed more attached to them than ever. He had plopped down on Beckett’s living room floor and refused to leave.

Nash’s boots crunched against the gravel in the driveaway as he approached. Shep looked angrier the closer Nash got. But it had taken the kittens longer to feed, and that’s why Nash hadn’t made it on time to take part in a dinner he didn’t even want to attend.

“I told you to be here at eight. Sharp,” Shep growled, taking a step forward.

“My world does not revolve around you.”

Shep hesitated, telling Nash he must have looked like shit. “What’s wrong?” he finally asked.

“Have you seen Megan?”

“Yeah, she’s out back.”

Nash inhaled a long breath instead of unleashing a string of curse words. He’d been worried sick about her all day. Yeah, he knew he fucked up. Again. But there wasn’t a hope in hell he’d ever bow to the likes of Clint Harrison. And if the man was in his face, Nash would meet him nose-to-nose.

He went to climb the steps to find Megan when Shep grabbed his arm. “Hold up.”

Nash growled over his shoulder. “Not fucking now.” At Shep’s raised brows, Nash shook his head, and softened his voice. “Fuck. Sorry, that’s not meant for you.”

“I know.” Shep fixed an open button on Nash’s shirt and tucked one side of the shirt into his jeans.

Nash lifted a sole eyebrow. “Is there a reason you’re fixing my clothes?”

“Yes.” Shep took a step back and looked Nash over from head to toe. “Fix your hat. It’s crooked.”

Nash didn’t move an inch. “I’ll fix it when you tell me what in the hell is going on.”

Shep shoved his hands into the pockets of his Levi’s. That was when Nash got a good look at his older brother. New jeans. A clean, ironed white shirt. Even his hair had styling gel. “If you’d hurry your ass up and do as I ask, then we can attend my wedding.”

“What? Your wedding. Now?”

Shep nodded, giving a beaming smile. “Yup. Now.”

Fuck. Now Nash felt like not only the worst boyfriend, but the worst brother too. He took his cowboy hat off and ran a hand over his hair before placing his hat tight onto his head. “When in the hell did you plan this?”

“Last week, after I proposed.” Shep was still smiling.

“You told us you were proposing.” Nash had gone with Shep to pick up the ring after he had a custom design made. “When did you decide to skip the engagement part?”

Shep shrugged. “It was Emma’s idea.” He gave Nash a thorough once-over. “Yeah, you look good. Well, if you could erase the scowl, that might help.”

Nash strained to smile.

Shep snorted a laugh. “You look like you’re giving birth to a porcupine.”

“Then get used to the scowl.”

Shep laughed louder this time, and Nash followed him down the side of the house. When they rounded the corner, the rush of voices suddenly drifted over Nash. He recognized most of the faces there. Shep’s team from this company and their wives, plus his receptionist and her husband. Friends and family in River Rock were there. There were also people he didn’t know, whom he assumed were Emma’s parents and either more family or friends from her old life in New York City. They dressed differently. Lots of heels and flashy jewelry. The closer Nash got, the more he heard their local friends’ surprise that instead of coming to dinner, they were attending a wedding.

This was a good surprise. A definite turn around to his shit day.

White chairs had been set out in front of a garden arbor covered in bright-colored flowers. There was a harpist playing at the front. Off to the side, there was a table full of fancy food and desserts. Nash arched a brow in Shep’s direction. “This must have cost a pretty penny to put together in a week?”

Shep’s mouth twitched. “When it comes to a making your woman happy, you’re not thinking in dollar signs.” He gestured at the front row. “There’s your seat.” He turned to walk away.

Nash grabbed him and pulled him into a hard hug. “Happy for you, brother.”