Page 38 of Midnight & Mavericks

He nodded, stepping aside to let her pass. “You don’t have to apologize, Abbie. Just... give it some thought. Think about what you’re walking away from.”

“I have, Nathan. I know I’m a fool, but this is not where my heart is anymore. I need more substance than this. I need my talents to matter. I need to help people like my grandpa fight against rich, greedy men who use money and power to crush people without either.

“If you could do me the courtesy of letting me break the news to your dad, I’d really appreciate it, Nathan. And I think you are an amazing person. Truly. But you and I?” She smiled. “I’m just not the right girl for you. Trust me.”

Abbie hurried back to her office, grabbed her things, and locked the door. “Hey, Missy. I’m going home to unpack. I’ll be back tomorrow, okay?”

“Sure, Abbie. Is everything all right?”

“Yeah, couldn’t be better, but you might watch out for Nathan. He’s gonna need a strong shoulder to lean on and it might as well be you.”

An hour later, Abbie stood by the massive windows of her forty-second floor New York City apartment, watching the endless stream of taillights and headlights blur together on the street below. The rhythmic hum of the city that had once been a comfort now felt like static, white noise that couldn’t drown out the chaos in her mind.

Her phone sat on the marble counter, glowing softly with a notification. Nathan had called again. Probably another attempt to change her mind. But that wasn’t happening.

Nathan Winters. Polished, successful, and every inch the gentleman. He was the kind of man who always got what he wanted—clean-cut, driven, and oozing with charm. He was someone her colleagues admired and her mother would have adored. But if Abbie was honest, Nathan had never been an option for her. He wasn’t her type, and she wasn’t his.

Abbie sighed, looking at her phone hoping to see a text from a certain cocky, hard-headed detective, but no such luck. So, she set the phone down as her thoughts wandered. Nathan had always been courteous and attentive, but he was too polished, too perfect. He was the kind of man who preferred his world neatly ordered with no room for the messy complexities of someone like her.

And truthfully, she’d never been drawn to the kind of smooth edges Nathan offered. It had been flattering when he first showed interest—anyone would have been flattered—but there had been no spark, no fire. If they disagreed, he let her have her way. There was nothing like what she felt every time she locked eyes with Beau Elliott.

Her stomach twisted at the thought of Beau. The man was the exact opposite of Nathan—rough around the edges, infuriatingly cocky, and far too perceptive for her liking. He challenged her in ways that made her pulse race and her defenses crumble. And that was the problem, wasn’t it? He made her feel things she wasn’t used to allowing herself to feel. She didn’t like this kind of vulnerability, or messy emotions and reckless leaps of faith. She thought she liked order, but Jessup Peak had proven her wrong.

Abbie leaned against the counter, crossing her arms as she stared down at the cold, pristine marble. The contrast betweenNathan and Beau couldn’t have been clearer. With Nathan, there was no risk, no unpredictability. But with Beau... there was electricity and fire. The kind that made her want to leap headfirst into something whether or not she was ready just to see where it would go.

Her phone buzzed again, breaking her reverie. She glanced at the screen and saw it wasn’t Nathan this time. It was a photo from her grandfather—a sunset over the ranch with the silhouette of the barn’s new skeleton bathed in golden light. Beneath it, his simple message read:Miss you, kiddo.

Her chest tightened, and she pressed her lips together to stave off the sudden wave of emotion. The ranch. Her grandfather. That world felt so far away now, but it was still tethered to her, pulling at something deep inside.

Her mind drifted to the late-night talks she’d had with her grandfather during her time in Jessup Peak. His voice echoed in her thoughts: “Happiness isn’t about where you are, Abbie. It’s about who you are and who you’re with.”

But who was she? And where did she belong? Her thoughts circled back to Beau as they always seemed to. The way he looked at her with those piercing blue eyes like he could see straight through her. The way his voice softened when he spoke to her grandfather, and the way he could infuriate her with a single smirk. She hated how much space he occupied in her mind, but she couldn’t shake him. He was everywhere—in her thoughts, her memories, her pulse.

Nathan wasn’t her type. But neither was Beau, not really. She wasn’t prepared for men who could strip away her defenses with a single look. And yet, she couldn’t help but wonder what might have been if Beau hadn’t made it so clear he was leaving Jessup Peak.

Abbie grabbed a glass of wine and sat on the sofa looking out at the city lights twinkling across the landscape. She heldher phone in the other hand, her thumb hovering over Beau’s number.

She missed him. She missed the way he looked at her like she was the only person in the room. She missed the way he made her laugh, even when she was furious with him. She missed the way he made her feel like his arms were the only place she belonged.

He hadn’t called once since she’d left Jessup Peak. The thought sent a pang through her chest, and she set the phone down, burying her face in her hands.

This wasn’t just about Beau, though. It was about the life she wanted—the life she needed. She’d followed her dad’s footsteps because she knew how much it meant to him. But maybe Manhattan had been his dream. The partnership, the skyscrapers, the fast-paced lifestyle—maybe that had all belonged to her dad because for her, it all paled in comparison to the quiet strength of the ranch and the people who called it home. For so long she hadn’t seen that, but now it was crystal clear.

And she knew, deep down, that her heart had already chosen.

She brushed the thought away, straightening her spine and forcing herself to focus. She was supposed to have dinner with Will and Missy after work tomorrow. It was Will’s payment of his bet for her win in the trial. It was a distraction. A way to ground herself in the life she was supposed to want.

But as she stood there in her quiet apartment, surrounded by all the trappings of success, the weight of the life she’d built pressed down on her. The career, the accolades, the endless cycle of achievement—she realized she just wanted to go home.

Suddenly, she felt the urgency and pocketed her phone as she hurried to her closet. She passed the hall mirror and stopped to stare at her reflection in the mirror. Here she stood in her designer business suit hugging her figure, her makeup appliedwith precision. She looked every bit the poised, successful woman people admired. But as she gazed into her eyes, she saw something else entirely—an emptiness, a longing she couldn’t ignore any longer.

The city had been her escape, her sanctuary, her proving ground. She’d clawed her way to the top, earning every ounce of respect and every accolade she’d achieved. But standing there, alone in her apartment with the distant hum of New York City life outside, she realized the dream had changed, or maybe she was the one who’d changed. Either way, this dream had lost its luster.

Her phone buzzed and Nathan’s text message lit up on her screen. “Just checking on you. You’re not yourself today.”

She picked it up and stared at the message, her thumb hovering over the keyboard. After a long pause, she set the phone down on the counter without answering.

With a frustrated sigh, she kicked off her heels and sank onto the edge of her bed. She couldn’t do this anymore—this constant tug-of-war between who she was and who she thought she was supposed to be. Between the life she’d built and the life she’d left behind. Which one would make her happy?

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