Unbroken (6 page)

“Yeah.
Oh.
I'm willing to bet half of everyone thinks we've been
banging
, as you put it, for years.”

She let out a snarly sigh. “Fine. You're probably right. But . . . but I have to face this guy afterward.”

“He won't care.”

“What if he thinks I broke your heart?” she asked.

Cade laughed. “Cole probably doesn't think I have a heart to break. I think he assumes all my feelings originate from my dick.” Cade lifted a shoulder. “He's not . . . wrong, per se.”

“Oh please, Cade, spare me.”

“I'm just saying. Fine feelings have sort of been beaten out of me. Cruelly. Life carries a big stick.”

“Yeah, I've met life's beating stick on more than one occasion.”

“Can you honestly say you believe in love?”

She nodded slowly. “Yes. I do. Because my grandpa never loved another woman but my grandma for fifty-five years. And that's pretty amazing. That's love. Or even something deeper.”

“But do you think it's common? I mean, do you think that's normal?”

“No.”

“Right. Exactly. I mean, I think Kelsey and Cole really have something, and by God, if Quinn does anything to Lark, I will tie a fricking rock to his neck and throw him over Mill Creek Falls. So he better believe in love. But as for the rest of us? I don't know. I don't even think I want to try. After finding out what a bastard my dad was . . . it's not worth it. And look at your parents.”

“I would, but they aren't around.”

“There is that.”

“No,” she said, “I'm with you. Firmly in a grinchlike state on the topic of love. Firmly.”

“So, there you have it.”

“Why would Cole even believe that you were moving in with me, then?”

“Because it's you.”

His words made a kind of warm, melting feeling spread through her.

“And because if I tell him your breasts are even better out of a t-shirt than they look in one, he'll totally buy it.”

“Oh . . .” The warm feeling faded sharply. “Cade . . .”

“It's something I would say.”

“I know,” she bit out. “So go. Go build your disgusting case for our relationship being real and then . . . I can't believe I'm saying this, but go ahead and move in.”

“I'll be in tomorrow night,” he said, smiling and walking out the bedroom door.

She waited for him to disappear around the corner, until she could hear the sounds of his boots on the stairs, and then she collapsed onto the bed with her arm over her eyes.

Stupid Cade and his stupid ideas. Stupid Cade and his stupid ideas that really would be quite helpful because she was in over her head, getting harassed by a jackass and about to lose the farm like some cliché old movie.

This was temporary anyway, and resentment aside, Cade was one of her favorite people on the entire planet, so having him stay with her was really a good thing.

She let out a long, slow breath. Nothing was going to go wrong.

Five

Nicole Peterson wasn't sure why she'd decided to come to
Silver Creek. Well, no, that was a lie; she knew exactly why she was here. Maybe the truth was she didn't know what she expected to get out of this little family-finding experience.

She'd spoken to Cole Mitchell, the man she'd found out was her half brother, on the phone, and he'd never seemed that interested in having her out to the ranch. Not that he was rude . . . just hesitant.

It was the last phone call she'd made to Elk Haven that had spurred her to make the trip. It wasn't Cole she'd talked to, but his wife, Kelsey.

She'd been able to hear their little girl in the background. And Kelsey had said they were expecting another baby. And she'd been so sweet.

And she'd said there was plenty of room and that she should come. And Nicole's faint protest of “What about Cole?” had been met with: “Let me worry about him.”

So here she was, letting Kelsey worry about it. Except she was worrying about it too. Loitering in the mercantile and touching things she had no desire to purchase. Or even look at.

Mainly she wanted to get in her car and go back to Portland. And why not? She had a very nice cubicle there waiting for her. With a new swivel chair. And she had her apartment. And a fixed-gear bike. Yeah. Life was sweet in Portlandia.

Yet still, she was here.

She sighed and ran her fingers along a line of little die-cast tractors that lined the top row of one of the shelves.

“Can I help you?”

She turned around and all the breath shot out of her lungs. The guy was . . . well, holy hell, they did not grow them like that in Portland. He was tall, broad and muscular with a beard and a flannel shirt that was pushed midway up his rather delicious-looking forearms. Flannel and beards were a common enough Portland attraction, but he was wearing neither ironically. Unlike most of the men she knew, this guy actually could be a lumberjack.

“Um . . . I'm just . . . in the market for a new tractor,” she said, picking up one of the miniatures. “This one will do. Red. I like it.”

He shook his head, dark brows knitted together. “Nah. You need a Deere.” He picked up a small green tractor, then took the red one from between her thumb and forefinger, set it back on the shelf, and handed her the one he'd chosen.

“I like red,” she said.

“You look like a city girl to me,” he said.

“Do I?” she asked.

“Yes. Judging by the tattoo,” he said, indicating the sleeve that ran from her shoulder down to her wrist. “And the hat,” he added, looking at her beanie.

“Stereotyping,” she said. “You're assuming I'm not a mini-tractor mechanic.”

“
Are
you a mini-tractor mechanic?”

“Uh, no. Can't say that I am. I am in the tax preparation business, which is . . . not nearly as exciting. Or greasy.”

“So what brings you to town? Tax crisis?”

“Uh, no,” she said, pushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “Family stuff. Kind of.”

“I see.”

“Eh. You don't, but that's okay. It was a nice try.”

“How long will you be here?”

She shoved her hands in the pockets of her jeans and lifted her shoulders. “I'm not really sure, actually. It's . . . open-ended family stuff.”

“Well, if you end up needing a drink, and I know with my family I always do, we could always go and get one. Together.”

She laughed. “Are you hitting on me?”

“Trying to. Women don't usually have to ask for clarification—did I do something wrong?”

“No, it's just . . . unusual.”

“Bullshit.”

“Guys always think I'm going to shank them. Or tell them they owe the fed a bunch on this year's return.”

“Cowards,” he said.

“I'm useless with pickup lines.”

“Try me,” he said.

She put her hand on her hip. “I can help you find additional deductions,” she said, wiggling her brows.

“As I'm a small-business owner, you have no idea how hot that sounds to me.” He smiled and her stomach did a flip thing. Which was stupid because her stomach shouldn't be flipping with anything but nerves right now. She shouldn't be thinking about anything but meeting her half brothers and half sister for the first time.

And then a horrifying thought occurred to her.

“You aren't a Mitchell, are you?” she asked.

He frowned. “No.”

“Are you related to them, even distantly?”

“Not that I'm aware of, but you know, people do have their secrets.”

She could have howled with laughter if the whole thing weren't so close to home. “Uh, yes, they do. Actually”—she let out a long breath—“that reminds me of something.”

“What's that?” he asked.

“That I have somewhere to be.”

“Just a second.” He walked back over to the counter and picked up a business card, then brought it back to where she was standing and held it out. She took it and smiled. “Thanks.”

She turned the green tractor over one more time, then set it back on the shelf.

“Keep it,” he said. “Free of charge. Because you need a reliable tractor if you're going to hang out here in the country.”

She sucked a breath of air through her teeth. “Eh. I'm not worth giving stock to. I'm probably never going to have that drink with you. And if I did, you'd be out a drink and a small tractor, with nothing in return. At least not what I think you might be looking for.”

“It's a gift,” he said. “Free of obligation.”

Nicole lifted the tractor back up from the shelf and looked at it, then back at the super gorgeous, epically stunning man that she had no time or emotional energy to pursue. She was here on a mission. Sleeping with some random dude didn't come into it. It would only complicate things.

“Thank you,” she said. “I'll hang on to it.”

“Why did you want to know if I was a Mitchell?” he asked. “You aren't pregnant with one of their babies, are you? Because I seem to have a track record for hitting on women who are pregnant with Mitchell progeny.”

“No, my, uh . . . my uterus is currently vacant. Also,
what
?”

“Long story. Or . . . not. I made a pass at Cole Mitchell's wife before she was his wife.”

“Oh. Okay.” That was an oddly relieving explanation. Or maybe not odd at all. It was just nice to know that her brother . . . that was a weird way to think of him—wasn't also spreading illegitimate spawn across the state. Like their father had done.

“Did I put my foot in my mouth?” he asked. “I do that a lot.”

“No. It's . . . I'm going to take my tractor and go now.”

“Okay. John. My name is John.”

“Nicole,” she said. “So . . . nice to meet you and . . . bye.”

“I'll see you around.”

She scrunched her nose. “I don't think so.”

He chuckled, and the sound poured a shot of heat down through her body, all the way to her toes. “In a town this size?” He shook his head. “Yeah, I'll see you around.”

*   *   *

“I'm moving out,” Cade said, twisting the bottle of beer in
his hand, the water droplets leaving cold moisture on his palm.

“What?” Cole looked up from the fridge.

“I'm moving out.”

“I heard you. So I guess what I really meant was: Why in the hell would you do that? You work here. We need you here. Your family is here.”

“Because,” he said, shifting his weight to his right side, trying to relieve the ache that was pounding in his leg like a sonofabitch. “I'm moving in with Amber.”

That earned him a facial expression that was almost comically still. “Moving in with her?”

“Yes.”

“What happened to . . . her breasts being the only breasts you weren't trying to grab?”

Cade frowned. “Did I say that?”

“Something to that effect.”

His frown deepened. “I'm an asshole.”

“Yeah, but that's beside the point.”

Cade took a sip of his beer. “It's been a long time since I groped random breasts, you know. Or even tried to.”

“I know,” Cole said. “Doritos. And hot chocolate, remember?”

Cade grunted. “Yeah. But you don't know everything. Obviously. Amber and I are moving in together.”

“Because you're sleeping with her?”

The thought made Cade's throat feel tight. Made him feel like he might need to peel off his skin because it suddenly felt too damn hot. “Yes,” he said. “I mean, obviously. Frequently. Athletically. Why else would I move into that farmhouse she lives in and take on all those projects. Sex. And bacon. You can't overlook the bacon.”

“When did this happen?”

“Is this what marriage does to people, Cole? Turns them into women? Are you honestly asking me for romantic details? There was a day when sex and cured meat would have been enough of an answer for you.”

“You've been best friends with her since you were teenagers and I've never seen you look at her like she was anything other than a friend. Not even once. You make eye contact when you talk to her.”

“Yeah, well, things changed.”

“Does this have anything to do with you being pissed at me?”

“No,” Cade said. It was the truth. It was a bonus that he would be getting some distance from Cole, but it wasn't the driving reason, or even the reason at all, that he'd ended up in this situation.

He just wanted to protect Amber. And some distance from Elk Haven? That was all fine with him, but it hadn't entered his mind at all when he'd pushed her to let him actually move in. Well, it almost hadn't entered his mind. Much.

But then the idea of getting a start on the bison initiative was sort of tempting too. And proving that he was right. There was that.

“Like I would make this kind of decision based on you,” he added for good measure. “This is about me. And Amber. Us. The us that is me and Amber. And her breasts, which I like.” That was about as convincing as . . . nothing. But it was weird to talk about her like this.

“Good for you. Both of you,” Cole said, his expression oddly stiff. “But you'll still be working here, right?”

Cade braced himself for the storm that would surely follow his next statement. “No. I'm not going to be working here. I'm going to be working on the Jameson property.”

“What the hell, Cade? You aren't a Jameson. You're a Mitchell, and we need you here.”

“Hire someone, Cole.”

“This is your legacy.”

“No, it's damn well not,” he said, anger pouring out that he hadn't entirely realized he'd had. Annoyance, sure, but he hadn't known he was this damn ragey about the whole thing. “It's
your
legacy, Cole. You've made that abundantly clear. Until I have equal say in it, until it's just as much mine as yours, it won't be. I have a chance to take a piece of land and make it mine. This is dad's. It's yours. It won't ever be mine, and maybe that's okay, but only as long as you stop acting like I should be as invested as you when it's not my vision. And frankly, I didn't give a rat's ass when I was traveling cross-country all the time, but that's not my life now. I have to settle down or I have to . . . get a job at a bar. Except I can't even do that because I would have to stand for too long on a hard floor so . . . my options are limited here.”

“And how are you going to work the Jameson ranch?”

“Hire people.”

“You'll do that by . . . ?”

“Spending a shitload of my money.”

“You don't have money.”

“I actually have more than you think. Stock market windfall combined with the percentage I personally am entitled to for arranging the rodeo contracts—and I sold my sports car. So, yeah . . . I have the money to do this. So I'm going to.”

“You are doing this because you're pissed at me,” Cole said.

“No. Because not everything in life is about you, or everyone's relationship to you. If your wife hasn't beaten that out of your head by now, I guess there's no hope.”

“I guess not,” Cole said, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Bottom line, this is for me. This is for Amber.” Cade was starting to fear it was in that order. But what did it matter as long as Amber was protected?

“We'll miss you.”

“No, you won't.”

“Kelsey will. Maddy will.”

“Yeah, well, I'll miss them.”

“Are you going to stay and eat your fucking dinner or are you not eating dinner here anymore either?” Cole asked.

“I'll eat,” Cade growled.

“Fine.”

“Don't poison my food.” Cade started walking out of the kitchen and into the main area of the house.

“Don't be a damned child,” Cole said.