Page 41 of Wrangling Nash

“Hi Stevie, I’m Nash,” Nash introduced himself. Stevie stood up to hug Nash while wearing a big grin.

“I’ve heard a lot about you. You’re even more handsome than Jovie let on,” she teased.

Nash responded with a smile as he walked to the other side of the island behind me, wrapping his big arms around my waist protectively and pressing his warm body against my back.

This left Wylie, who still was at a loss for words as he gazed back at Stevie.

In an unexpected gesture, Wylie cleared his throat, causing the room to collectively hold its breath, half expecting one of his usual inappropriate comments. However, Wylie surprised everyone.

“Hi, Stevie, I'm Wylie,” he greeted, extending his hand. Stevie looked down at it and then up at Wylie, shaking his hand with a warm smile.

“Nice to meet you, Wylie.”

The room was silent after that, the tension, sexual tension, could be cut with a knife.

I cleared my throat. “Ok, so the food Gloria prepared for us is all in the dining room if we want to head in there?”

The group filed into the dining room, and the atmosphere became more relaxed as Nash, not typically a big talker, effortlessly kept the conversation flowing. Clay contributed with his usual silly antics, and I quietly observed the subtle tension between Stevie and Wylie.

During one of Clay’s stories, where he recounted my ordeal with the scorpion sting to Stevie, Nash reached under the table and squeezed my thigh reassuringly while casting a tentative glance my way. I returned the gesture, squeezing his hand back and offering a reassuring smile.

As the evening wound down, Stevie and I found ourselves in the kitchen, washing dishes and tidying up while the boys engaged in a lively game of poker before their departure. Catching Stevie’s eye, I motioned for her to join me in one of the guest rooms where she’d be staying tonight.

“Kind of weird vibe out there tonight, huh?” I asked once we were alone.

Stevie shrugged, but there was a mischievous glint in her eyes that piqued my curiosity.

“What’s going on, Stevie?” I pressed.

Meeting my gaze, Stevie nodded knowingly. “I remember Wylie,” she confessed. “And I think he remembers me too.”

“How’s that possible? I don’t remember them, and you’re only a year older than me,” I questioned.

She shrugged, “I think I was about 6 years old. I didn’t remember this memory at the time, but we came down here for Thanksgiving, and you and I were playing with rocks by the pool. We were making these weird towers out of them, seeing who could make theirs taller, then going to get mud from the field and using it to try and mesh the structures together. Do you remember? We used to do that.”

I thought hard; the memory sounded familiar but couldn’t quite recall it. “I’m not sure, maybe?”

She nodded, “Wylie and Nash walked up, and Wylie kicked my tower over. I got mad and was going to tell Mom and Grandma, who were making Thanksgiving dinner. But instead, I pushed Wylie into the pool. It was November, and the water was freezing. He was so mad and went and told on us. Mom and Grandma wouldn’t even listen to the fact that he kicked over our tower, and we both got in big trouble.”

“Wow, I don’t remember that at all,” I said, my voice trailing off.

Stevie shrugged. “It was the same year you fell out of the treehouse and knocked yourself out. I remember, mostly because of Wylie. I thought he was the cutest boy I’d ever seen. Figures he’d grow into the hottest guy I’ve ever seen.”

I chuckled, “I don’t know if you want to go there, Stevie; he’s got a crazy on again off again girlfriend and seems to have a reputation.”

She shrugged, “Ex-girlfriend, huh?” she grinned but then noticed my frown. “Alright, guess I’ll just look then. Watching him is enough of a turn-on for me.”

She stood up to head back out to the kitchen but paused, “Hey, you, okay? I didn’t realize things were so serious between you and Nash.”

I raised an eyebrow, “Who said they were serious?”

She chuckled, “No one had to; just the way Nash looks at you told me everything I needed to know. He’s possessive of you and you’re in love, Jovie. So is he.”

Chapter 35: Jovie

That night, I tossed and turned in bed, pondering Stevie’s revelation.

How was it possible to have known Nash, even at 5 years old, and not remember him? I suppose you don’t retain much from that age. Nash slept peacefully beside me; his protective arm now dropped to his side due to all my restlessness.

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