Page 39

“Welcome to the family… again, I guess?” one of Regan’s older brothers who I just met, Cash Marshall, grins, clinking his beer bottle against mine gently.

“Thanks.” I smirk, taking a slow sip as my gaze sweeps over the crowd.

The band’s playing something upbeat, the dance floor is packed with people swaying under the soft glow of string lights and the sunset that’s descended across the Marshall property.

The original plan included a DJ setup, but at the last minute, Regan insisted on hiring a local band—one more way to highlight the talent that Whitewood Creek has to offer and show potential brides and grooms’ different options for their big day.

I have to admit, she thought of everything . And beyond that, she found a way to turn this whole event into something bigger. It wasn’t just about the wedding; it was about giving back to the community and pumping life into the local economy.

Cash follows my line of sight, nodding in approval. “The venue looks great. Can’t believe you pulled this together so fast.”

I huff a laugh. “You pulled this part together, but Regan pulled off the Manor. I hardly did anything.”

He shrugs like it’s nothing. “I love building shit. Once Colt and Regan had the designs sketched out, I just took it from there. Wasn’t much, really—frame for the elements, a pergola… it all came together. Regan’s dream, real and standing. I’m proud of her.”

“Me too,” I murmur, my focus locking on her as she dances with Rae, Scarlett, and Lydia.

She’s laughing, head tossed back, completely carefree.

I’m not much of a dancer, but I gave her a spin a few songs ago, no first dance like a real wedding but I’d wanted to hold her in my arms for a bit, enjoy the way her eyes sparkled under the stars and feel her chest pressed neatly to mine like it belonged.

And it’d been exactly what I’d needed before she’d been pulled away to our guests ever since.

It might not be a real wedding, but I’m glad she’s able to enjoy it, especially after everything she put into making this night happen. She deserves so much more.

“Your sister…” I start, “she’s incredible.”

Cash sips his beer, then turns to me slowly. “She is.” Then a pause. “I take it you two have gotten… closer, living together and all this past month.”

I nod. “Yeah. I think so.” I’m not going to betray Regan’s trust by opening up to her brother without her permission, and I have no idea how much they know about the fact that Regan and I weren’t complete strangers when we moved in together.

His expression shifts into something more thoughtful, measuring. “Hm…” He swirls the beer in his bottle. “I don’t need the details. Just hope you know what you’re doing. Regan has dreams, you know. Dreams of having a real husband and a family someday.”

I nod again, this time more slowly. “I understand.”

That seems to satisfy him. At least for now. His gaze drifts to the dance floor, where his wife Rae, the mayor of the small town, waves him over eagerly. “Alright, I better go dance with my woman. Catch you later, Hayes. Congrats again.”

“Yeah, see you.”

I take another sip of my beer, trying to shake the tension that’s curling in my gut.

There’s no reason for me to feel this tense tonight.

I’ve got the girl, a perfect evening and everything went smoothly.

I plan on talking to her about where we go from here when I take her home later tonight, but still, something feels off.

There’s something that’s crawling its way up my spine, telling me not to get too comfortable just yet.

Another hand lands firmly on my shoulder and my whole body tenses. I turn, only to find someone who looks a hell of a lot like Cash except slightly older. Familiar, too.

“Hayes Walker, right? Good to finally meet you. Sorry I wasn’t at the rehearsal last night.” He extends a hand. “Troy Marshall.”

I clasp it firmly, nodding. “The governor brother.”

He chuckles. “Yeah. I guess that’s me. I’m bummed I missed the first wedding though I heard it wasn’t as eventful as this one.”

“Colt and Molly were there. It was simple.”

He nods, studying me. “So how are you holding up? Regan seems happy.”

“I’m good.” I glance around. “The Mayberry Manor really came together, and your farm looks great. There are a few things I want to do with the barn and stables before the horses arrive, but we’ve been slowly chipping away at things. Regan’s taken the lead on most of the renovations”

“I need to get over there and see it soon.”

“Anytime.” I shift my beer between hands. “I met Georgia and your littlest one before the wedding. Congrats on the family and winning the re-election.”

His face softens. “Thanks.” A beat of silence. Then, “You want kids someday?”

The question punches me in the ribs. I swallow thickly. “I’m not sure.”

Troy tilts his head. “You’re around my age, right? Just wondering if it’s something you’ve thought about.”

I exhale, dragging a hand over my jaw. “If you’d asked me a few months ago—or hell, anytime in the last ten years—I’d have said no.

Never wanted them, felt like I missed my window of opportunity but even if I hadn’t, I don’t think I would have been a good dad.

But now…?” I shake my head as my gaze falls to Regan who’s smiling so pretty and dancing with her friends and family.

A little girl with dark, auburn hair just like hers and bright blue eyes who calls me Dad?

Damn, that doesn’t sound so bad. “I don’t know. ”

He watches me, eyes sharp, assessing like he knows it’s his sister that’s changed that thought for me.

“I raised Regan, you know.” His voice is calm, but there’s weight behind it.

“When our mom died giving birth to her and Colt, our dad spiraled. Lawson and Cash were still wild as hell, so I stepped in. Stayed up with the twins, got them ready for school, did her hair, all of it. I probably know more about her hopes and dreams than anyone, well, at least the ones she had before I left for New York.” His gaze hardens.

“So, what happens if this thing between you two doesn’t last?

If you guys end up divorcing when the dust settles?

I just hope you give her a real shot at the things she’s always wanted and don’t block her blessings that I know are coming. ”

A muscle jumps in my jaw. I get it. He’s not just her oldest brother; he’s been a stand-in dad. The one who kept her world steady when it could’ve crumbled. But I also don’t want to stop her from getting all the things that she desires. She deserves it all.

I swallow hard. “I like her a lot. She’s special.”

Same thing I told Cash. Same thing that suddenly feels like the weakest possible way to describe the way she’s in my head, mind and body now.

Troy hums, unconvinced. “Liking her ain’t enough.” He slaps my shoulder, a final warning. “I look forward to seeing the ways your love grows as you two live together these next few months.”

And just like that, he walks away, disappearing into the dancing crowd.

But my heart is still racing.

My head is still spinning.

I need to talk to her. Need to tell her what I’m feeling and be sure that I’ve made myself clear.

All my fears and hopes feel like they’re right under the surface of my skin, waiting to be exposed if I can just get to her and explain.

She’s understanding, fuck the most understanding woman that I’ve ever met.

But first, I need a second to clear my thoughts.

I turn, booted feet carrying me through the grass, past the glowing venue and toward the main house where Regan grew up.

The night is quiet out here and cooler. With each step away from the music my pulse starts to slow to an even pace, and I feel like I can finally breathe again.

But before I reach the porch of the home, a figure stumbles out of the shadows.

And the second I see them, my blood runs cold.

Because it’s a face I swore I never wanted to see again.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” I growl, stalking toward the sorry excuse for a father I had to live with for years. He’s swaying in the breeze, suit undone at the front and looks a mess.

Even before I get close, I smell it—the thick scent of bourbon.

It clings to him like a second skin, familiar in the worst way.

He always used to have a drink in his hand, every night since I was born.

Never a full-blown drunk, but just enough to let the liquor loosen his grip on control, his restraint and his fists .

It’s the smell of my pain. The smell of who I was as a cowering child, hiding from him, trying not to get in his way. Even when sober, though, he always found a reason. A reason to hit. A reason to punish. A reason to take out his rage on the life he never wanted—on me .

Becoming a father was his biggest regret.

He told me that enough times for me to believe it and that fatherhood destroys a man’s soul.

I used to hear those words when I’d close my eyes at night no matter how hammered I’d get or how much success I’d achieve while riding.

Compliments make you weak. Pride goes before fall.

Somedays, I can still hear the curses he spoke over me.

“What?” He lifts his hands in mock innocence. “It’s a family reunion. Heard Scarlett and Seth were here so I figured I couldn’t miss it.”

“No one wants you here.”

He chuckles, smug. “Thought I’d come offer my congratulations to your new bride. She might want to meet her new father-in-law. The man who raised her husband.”

My fists clench at my sides. “Don’t talk to Regan. You’re nothing to her and you’re certainly not the man who raised me. How did you even get here?”

“I live in Meadowbrook now. Got me a new woman.”

Of course, he does. Because if it wasn’t enough to ruin my mother’s life and Scarlett and Seth’s, he had to move on, dig his claws into someone else. Another family to destroy. I just hope there aren’t any kids involved this time.

“Leave before you make a scene,” my voice is darker and filled with a warning now.

“Nah. Don’t think I will. I heard there’s an open bar.”

My nails bite into my palms, fury curling hot in my chest. This— this —is why I started bull riding at nineteen. I needed somewhere else to get beaten, somewhere else to let out the rage where I knew I was in control of ending it.

Riding on the back of a bull, yeah, it scared me at first, but it was nothing like the fear I had as a kid where I had nowhere to go and no one to help me.

On a bull, I could get off, might hurt like hell dismounting, but I knew there was an end to the pain eventually and the scars it’d leave wouldn’t be emotional ones that haunt me for years.

The best part was I could take my adrenaline and anger out on the ride. I’d rather do that than become anything like my father, taking it out on the people closest to him.

It’s why I fuck hard and leave fast.

Why I’ve always kicked women out before they get the chance to see this side of me.

The side I’ve spent my whole life trying to kill.

The side he put in me when he contributed to my existence and shared his DNA to make me.

“Leave,” I snarl, stepping closer.

He smirks, eyes glinting with something cruel.

“You think you can do it better than me? Be a better husband to this woman? Does she want kids? You want to see if you can do the whole father thing better than your dad did? You’ll find out you can’t.

Being a husband is taxing, and a parent is even worse . ”

“I’m nothing like you,” I growl, though the rage inside me whispers otherwise.

His smirk deepens, as if he can see the fire building, as if he likes it.

He always seemed to enjoy it most when I’d fight back.

Try to protect myself with my weak fists and skinny legs, and right now, that’s what I’m doing with my words.

I know I’m only adding fuel to the fire he started but I can’t stop it now.

“You might be right about that, son. Because truth be told? I’ve always wondered if you were even mine.”

My breath stalls. My vision blacks out at the edges.

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

He tilts his head, taunting. “Your mother was a whore. She got around. I never knew for sure if you were mine, but she dumped me on you before I could figure that out and skipped town. I always wondered. Maybe that’s why I enjoyed beating on you so much.

You were free labor to the ranch in my eyes.

” He steps closer, voice lowering, venom dripping from every word.

“You weren’t mine. And when your mother left me with you, Scarlett and Seth’s mom took you in foolishly because she was too much of a push over, when we should’ve just gotten rid of you like I wanted to. ”

Something in my chest cracks wide open.

His lips curl in a nasty snarl. “You’re just a bastard son, playing pretend just like you are now.” A sick, satisfied smirk spreads across his face. “And despite not sharing my blood, it looks like you inherited something from me anyway.” He leans in closer. “ My rage. ”

I don’t blink.

I don’t think.

I just snap.

My fist collides with his face so hard that he drops in an instant.

His body hits the ground like a sack of feed, but I don’t stop.

I can’t stop. Fist after fist, years of fury pouring out of me, of beatings and bruises and words meant to break me, all of it boiling over until suddenly strong arms are ripping me off him and Seth and Scarlett are shouting my name.

“Get him out , ” Troy grits. His tie is loose, dress shirt bloody and I realize it was him who pulled me off my dad and likely stopped me from ending his life the way I wanted to. “Get him out of here before he makes even more of a scene and ruins this whole fucking night for Regan.”

Cash rushes in, helping Colt haul my dad off, but I’m already gone, my body moving without thought as I stumble through the trees and towards the parking lot. Seth guides me to a spare golf cart while my head spins and my hands shake as adrenaline courses through my body. And then I see her.

Regan.

She’s a few feet away, the music still playing, the party still moving on the dance floor, but she’s frozen in place watching. Her eyes—wide, searching, afraid .

Of me.

The monster that she just married again.