A False Start: A Small Town Brother’s Best Friend Romance (Gold Rush Ranch Book 4)
A False Start: Chapter 28

Griffin hasn’t fucked me in five days, and I’m losing my mind. Which is why I’m gawking out the clinic windows at his perfect ass as he walks a horse up and down the driveway while Mira watches for any signs of lameness.

All I can confirm is that he can wear the hell out of a pair of jeans and that he’s so much sweeter than I ever banked on.

Even though I’m pissed with him right now.

When we were about to go our separate ways after the annoyingly sweet but fake tropical vacation, he told me he needed a bit of time to work something out. When I asked what that something was, he said he’d tell me once he took care of it.

When I asked what a bit of time was, he told me he couldn’t say for sure. Sᴇaʀ*ᴄh the ꜰindNʘvel.ɴet website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

He promised me over and over again that this wasn’t the end. Don’t misunderstand me, Wildflower. This isn’t the end. This is just the beginning. When I told you you’re mine, I fucking meant it. But to keep going with you while I have this hanging over my head feels wrong. You deserve better.

Honestly, his vagueness pissed me off. Which is why I told him not to come around until he’s ready to talk honestly with me. I hate secrets. I hate not knowing. I hate being kept in the dark like I’m a child or something. And even all that raw pain in his eyes wasn’t enough to convince me otherwise.

But I still want to fuck him. Because nobody—and I mean nobody—is better at sex than Griffin Sinclaire. Plus, I really do understand having things you’re not ready to talk about.

And if I’m being honest, it’s a lot more than just sex with him. I wouldn’t have done it otherwise. I promised myself I wouldn’t have casual sex to fill some void inside of me, and I haven’t.

The problem is, I’m getting obsessed. With his dick. With his moody growls. With his commitment to my to-do list. With the soft looks he gives Tripod when he bends down to scratch him behind his ears. Is there anything hotter than a man who’s a total softie for animals? Because I’m pretty sure there’s not. And watching Griffin take in the dirty, malnourished, three-legged mutt and love him so completely could make me cry.

He stops to talk to Mira after trotting the horse back to her, and when she moves along the filly, running her hand over her ribs as she goes, Griffin’s head snaps up. He glances my way, like he just knew I was scoping him out. Our eyes find each other like it’s the most natural thing in the world, like we’re opposite ends of a magnet. Drawn together in the most intrinsic of ways. Even if we shouldn’t be.

When he looks at me like this, none of that other stuff matters. It feels like the world put us in each other’s paths that night. It feels like my brother bought his farm so we’d be a part of each other’s worlds.

At the risk of sounding like a woo-woo sap, there’s something about us that feels written in the stars.

I don’t look away and neither does he. He just scowls at me, and it makes me smile. He might act like a grizzly bear, but I know what’s underneath. I’ve felt him soften beneath my palms. I’ve heard the loving things he whispers in my ears.

I’m smart enough to know there’s something holding him back, something he’s embarrassed about. Some demon from his past. But his demons don’t scare me. They call to my own. Our wild sides match, our shadowy parts twirl together so easily. Our demons spill out and dance together, like dark plus dark makes light.

I told him once that I didn’t know what I’d have in common with someone my age who’s lived an average life. That I’d feel like I was darkening their bright, shiny aura with my shadows.

But with Griffin it doesn’t feel that way at all. He doesn’t treat me like I’m damaged. He takes all my little broken bits and mixes them with his own.

And I want more of that. He must see it in my face because his brows drop lower, lips tipping with what someone who doesn’t understand him might see as a bad mood. I just see anxiety. I see all the things he wants to say to me but can’t bring himself to voice.

I wink at him and turn away, checking the clock as I grab my bag and walk toward the front door.

A week of space is enough for him to freak out. And me, for that matter. I’m also tired of pretending my vibrator is him.

It’s time to poke the bear again.

“You off?” Mira calls out.

I wave, grinning. “Yeah. I think I’m gonna grab a horse and go for a trail ride.”

“Good for you. Between this guy”—she hikes a thumb over at Griffin—“and Violet, you’ve come along quickly.” Since day one, this woman has been my biggest fan, and I love her for it.

“Well, you know me. Not afraid to work for what I want.” My gaze flits over to Griffin, who stiffens, his scowl only deepening even though I didn’t think that was possible.

“I’m so proud of you.” Her eyes twinkle.

Earlier today, I told her my plans about starting some sort of racehorse rescue or rehabilitation program after I finish vet school. Between Mira’s excitement for the idea and the votes of confidence from Griffin and his family, I’m feeling like this dream is possible. Like I really could do it, like I have a growing number of people in my life who genuinely want me to succeed. And that support warms me in a way I’ve spent years searching for.

Mira looks like she could cry as I stare back at her. Having a baby softened my sister-in-law, and I’m not mad at it. I’m happy to soak up any motherly attention that comes my way. Sometimes, I think about the fact we almost lost her. My life would be a lot less bright without her in it. Which is why I wrap her up in a hug and whisper in her ear, “I love you so much.”

She squeezes me tight. “Love you, too.”

When I pull away, Griffin’s scowl has washed away, swapped with an expression I can’t quite place.

“Later, Sinclaire,” I mutter as I turn to leave.

“Who are you riding with?” he bites out as soon as I’ve taken a few steps away.

“No one. I like my space.”

“Not safe.”

I peek over my shoulder because I don’t want to miss this reaction from him. “Thanks, Dad.”

I almost laugh when that one spot on his jaw pops. I’m sure he’s grinding that cinnamon gum to absolute shit between his molars.

“Meet me at my house. You can ride Spot. I’ll take one of the young ones that I have over there right now.”

I stop, turning back to them, not missing the ways Mira’s eyes move between us, no longer sparkling with emotion. Now it’s amusement.

“I just said I like my space.” My tongue swipes against the back of my teeth, trying so hard not to crack a smile.

“Heard. Just don’t care.” He shrugs, horse in hand, and walks away with the last word, annoyed masculine energy radiating from his shoulders.

But me? I’m not annoyed, I’m grinning because I just won myself some alone time with Griffin Sinclaire.

Mira brushes past me, doing a poor job of smothering the smile that’s playing across her face. She puts a good chunk of space between us before she mutters just loud enough for me to hear, “My God, Little Dalca. I daresay that man has it bad for you.”

And all I can think is good. Now we can have it bad for each other. I hope he’s as fucked up over me as I am over him.

“You saddled my horse for me.” Griffin gives me an impassive look as he stares at the paddocks behind his house.

“Do you want to check that I did it properly?” I lean up against the fence and quirk an eyebrow at him. “Ruin my alone time and boss me around?”

His lips twitch but he doesn’t smile, just dusts his hands together and heads toward the leggy bay thoroughbred in the paddock beside Spot. “No. I taught you how. I know you did it right. Ready?” he asks, tossing his cap on the ground and pulling a helmet on.

I nod and turn away, because if I don’t, I will seriously fucking throw myself at the guy, climb him, tackle him to the ground, and have my way with him right here and now.

Save a horse, ride a cowboy and all that.

“Yup.” I chicken out on that and bridle Spot before lining him up with the fence and hopping on. I urge him forward with a gentle squeeze without looking behind me and head down the driveway. The only way I know Griffin is following is because I can hear his horse’s hooves clopping behind me.

“This way.” He gestures down a wide path that winds between the trees, pulling up beside me as we head out for a leisurely walk. Spot’s head is slung low, swaying back and forth in a relaxed fashion. Griffin’s young colt is clearly nervous, his head held high, eyes bugging out of his skull, ears swiveling all over the place.

“Your horse is tripping balls, Sinclaire.”

“Stop calling me Sinclaire. That’s what the guys on my team called me.”

“So?” I shrug.

“I’ve been inside of you. You’re not one of the guys.”

I shrug again. “Might as well be. You’ve been treating me like one.”

“Nadia.” His tone is warning, but I don’t care. “Don’t say that.”

A bird swoops past, and his young horse flinches.

“Well, stop acting like a grumpy old man.”

“I told you I had something I needed to work out.”

“For what? You really didn’t tell me shit. And I’m just supposed to sit around here twiddling my thumbs, all fucking confused and horny, waiting for you to do whatever cryptic bullshit you’re doing?”

He growls and hops off his horse when we hit a long metal gate that leads into a big open field, unlocks it and swings it wide.

“Are we back to not talking? After everything?” I scoff, agitation rising in my chest as I urge Spot into the open field, not a clue where we’re going. Based on the sun’s position, this must be the land that separates Gold Rush Ranch from my brother’s farm, Cascade Acres.

Griffin gets back onto his horse as it skitters sideways. His big palm slides up its neck and I’m momentarily jealous. I want those hands on me. But he needs a couple of weeks for something.

He murmurs gently to the horse, taking me back to the night we spent together. The words he murmured against my skin. The way he claimed me as his. Mine, he said. But now he’s pushing me away? Again? Ignoring me.

And it enrages me.

“Did last weekend not mean anything to you?” His head shoots up like I’ve just slapped him. “Just tell me! I can’t stand not knowing. I mean, I’m supposed to be the immature one here, right? Can you just fucking tell me something? Anything? You? Me? Us? This land? Are we fucking trespassing?” I wave a hand as I shout the last word, my agitation boiling over.

And it’s that flailing motion that sets his horse off. The bay rears on his hind legs before scooting to the side, and I distract Griffin just enough that he’s caught off guard. His body topples to the ground with a heavy thud. I swear it rattles my bones just watching it happen. I hear my scream, but it doesn’t sound like mine. It sounds distant, drowned out by the pounding hooves of his horse taking off and blood rushing through my ears.

He’s flat on his back when I jump off Spot and race to his side. I know barely anything about his head injury, but I suspect that a good thump to the head is not what he needs. I think of how adamant he was about wearing a helmet and am immensely grateful he’s been a stickler for safety.

“Griff. Griff.” I fall to my knees beside him, hands clutching at his shirt, feeling his firm, warm skin beneath my hands. “Griffin!” I sound shrieky and frantic as I check him over, straight into his dark eyes.

He bursts out laughing.

“Are you okay?” I pant out, trailing my hands over his beautiful body as though I could heal whatever hurts just by running my fingers over it.

And the asshole just laughs harder.

“Griffin! Are. You. Okay?” I swing a leg over him, straddling his waist. Because clearly the idiot is fine. Unless he doesn’t stop laughing. Then I’m going to be the one to hurt him. Why does someone so fucking annoying have to be the only person I’ve ever been so consumed with?

“No.” He laughs, scrubbing a hand over his face. “I’m in love with a fucking crazy person.”

I still. His body shakes beneath me as I struggle to wrap my mind around the words that just spilled from his lips.

“What?” The blood drains from my face.

He sighs and places his hands over mine, which are now braced against his pecs. He gives me a little tug, clamping me onto him and forcing me to meet his eye. “I’m not telling you anything because I’m embarrassed about what I’ve done in the past. And I don’t know what to say. You deserve so much fucking better than me. I’m still trying to wrap my brain around it all.”

He shakes his head, huffing out a disbelieving breath. “I’ve spent years scaring people away by being a growly asshole. And then you waltzed in, and even when I’m on my worst behavior, when other people back away slowly, you just sit there smiling. Looking at me like I hung the fucking moon. I want to deserve that look. And right now, I don’t. Right now, you wouldn’t look at me like that. I want to lay it all out for you. I want to make a plan to show you I’m serious. Because that’s what you deserve. So just let me work this out in the only way I know how, okay?” He rolls his lips together, no doubt taking in the shell-shocked expression on my face.

“And also, I own this land. I held onto it when I sold the main farm to your brother. So, we aren’t trespassing.”

The scent of sweet grass swirls around me. I gaze out over the beautiful rolling hills, the greens, the golds. There is so much about this man I don’t know. He’s so secretive, so restrained in so many ways. So accustomed to doing everything on his own. But my heart doesn’t seem to care. It practically beats out of my chest for him.

I should be more scared about what he’s just told me. Whatever shit he’s hiding sounds problematic. But I’m a little hung up on another part of what he just told me, and deep down, I know there’s very little he could do to scare me off. “Can you back up to the part before that?”

His full lips quirk up. He looks so fucking good when he smiles. Younger and more carefree. It’s worth waiting for, worth all the grumpy glares in between when I get a peek at this version of him. This version that only I get. It feels so good to have something all my own.

I want Griffin to be all mine. Mine. All the scowls, and growls, and smiles. All the hickeys. A streak of possessiveness flashes through me as I let my mind wander to other women who have gotten those things from him in the past. I want to claw their eyes out. Few people have truly loved me in my life, and I’m so desperate to be told that. To feel that. If I get it, I’ll never let it go.

“The part about you being a crazy person?”

Dick.

“Yeah. That part.”

His fingers squeeze mine, and his length thickens beneath me as his gaze rakes over my body, the way I’m straddling him, before landing back on my face. He looks at me with such heart-wrenching softness that I almost turn to a puddle right on top of him.

“I must be a crazy person, too . . . because I am head-over-heels for you, Wildflower. Please be patient with me.”

In that moment, I realize I’d wait around forever for another look like that, followed by another confession like that. My heart swells in my chest, and the bridge of my nose tingles as the thumping of his heart dances beneath our joined hands. It’s like, as unbelievable as it may seem, I can feel how much he loves me.

Lord help me, I am so far gone for this man. I swore I wouldn’t give anyone the power to take me down. But Griffin Sinclaire has been making a liar out of me since the first day I laid eyes on him.

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