Savior Complex: A Small Town Love Triangle Romance

“Brayden would never hire someone out of obligation,” Jordy says. “The guy is picky to a fault, especially when it comes to ranch hires.”

He shrugs, confirming that it’s the truth. “Want to come out to the ranch tomorrow?” he asks. “You can meet my mom and get a feel of the work involved, and then we can chat if this is a good fit.”

“Sounds good,” I say, but inside I’m doing backflips. It doesn’t help that Jordy catches my eye and grins wide. You’re hired, she mouths, and I do my best to smother my grin.

Chapter Eleven

Brayden

I wake up the next morning feeling like it’s Christmas Day. Like I have a whole pot of coffee racing through my veins. It takes until I’m in the shower to realize why.

Nina is coming to the ranch.

I shouldn’t feel this excited. I haven’t even hired her yet, and I shouldn’t entertain the idea of her working here, even though I can already tell she’ll fit in just fine. I can’t help thinking of how she’ll be around Hazel, and how she’ll be around my mom. I can picture the three of them in the kitchen, bringing a new energy to a house that’s seen too much tragedy over the past decade.

I believe Nina is the one who can change everything, and that’s what makes all of this so wrong.

Because I never thought that of Jordy.

Don’t get me wrong, I love Jordy. But she was never one to shoot the shit in the kitchen with my mom, or even want to hang out on the ranch at all. We both blame my dad for the fact that she’s never moved in here, but neither one of us fought for it. I’m still not sure how I feel about her moving to be closer to me. But if we’re planning a life together, it probably is a good idea to spend more time together.

Which is also why hiring Nina isn’t the best idea, because I’m way more excited about Nina working here than my girlfriend living about ten minutes away.

I towel dry, then take my time shaving to ensure a close shave. Cherokee is lying at my feet, patiently waiting for me to leave the room so he can eat, but I take the time to slap on some aftershave, then check my reflection.

“I’m being ridiculous, aren’t I?” I say to Cherokee, who only tilts his head in reply. This is high school shit here. It’s like I’m getting ready for a date with the prom queen, and each second is five seconds too long.

Wearing my favorite blue flannel and a pair of jeans, I take the stairs two at a time and head to the kitchen, my dog trailing close behind. There are no guests today since it’s Wednesday, so my mom is sitting at the table with a piece of toast and her usual cup of coffee, a book in her hand. It’s one of those romances she loves to read, and I glance at the title.

“For the Birds,” I read aloud, and she puts the book down. “Any good?”

“Very,” she says, “though it’s taking forever for the main characters to realize they’re in love, even though they’re obviously made for each other.”

I give Cherokee his breakfast, he dances in front of me until I place his bowl on the floor. I pour coffee into my favorite mug, the green one Hazel gave me a few years back that says, “I’m kind of a big dill” with a picture of a pickle on it. There’s a plate of muffins off to the side of the coffee pot, and I snag one, then take the seat across from my mom.

“I have a possible new hire coming in,” I say, then take a bite of the muffin. “Fuck, these are good.”

“Thanks. Hopefully this person is better than the last one that came in. She actually told me she didn’t do dishes.”

“Well, this one is Jordy’s cousin.”

My mom gives me a wary look, and I know exactly what she’s thinking.

“That’s not why I’m thinking of hiring her,” I assure her. “You know that. This is the family business, not a favor factory. But I have a good feeling about her. She has experience, is easy to get along with, and I think you’ll really like her.”

“Well, what’s her name?”

“Nina Chance,” I say. I pull out her application, which I had her fill out before I dropped her and Jordy back off at the house. I happened to have a bunch in my car, and figured we might as well make this official.

My mom looks it over, then zeroes in on her horse experience.

“Oh, she trained under Natalie,” she says. Then I see her face fall, knowing she’s reading the dates she was here. Ten years ago, when everything went to hell. “I always liked Natalie,” is all Mom says, but I know she’s thinking of a strawberry blonde girl who is gone, but never forgotten.

“Morning,” Hazel says, almost on cue. I turn to my younger sister as she comes in the kitchen and swipes the rest of my muffin right from my hand.

“Stinker,” I say, then wrap her up in my arms while she squeals, my stolen muffin falling in crumbs out of her mouth.

“Brayden, you’re making a mess.” Even as she says it, my mom is starting to get up to grab a rag to clean it up.