Page 52

The rooster from the Marshall farmstead crows somewhere in the distance, his call stretching across the fields like a familiar morning hymn. I rub my eyes, pushing up in bed, the soft light filtering through the curtains as I glance around my empty bedroom.?

I’m alone.

Of course, I am.

It didn’t feel right to sleep next to Regan, despite how much I wanted to—how desperate I was to hold her all night, to stay on that couch even if it broke my already worn back from years of riding.

Still, I held her in her bed until long after the movie credits finished downstairs, feeling the steady rise and fall of her chest against mine, the way her soft curves molded against my harder angles like she was made to fit there.

I brushed my fingers through her hair, breathed her in, and wondered if this— whatever this was —was us turning a corner, or just her needing a release for a single night.

God, I hope it’s not just that.

Because I’m in love with her.

And it’s not just because of these past two weeks. It’s not just since she lost her memories.

I’ve been in love with Regan since the moment I met her.

It’s in the quiet moments we’ve shared, the conversations over dinner, the way she looks at me sometimes like I hung the damn moon when I know I don’t deserve it.

And the way I look at her. Her sacrifices, her vulnerability, her hopes and dreams, knowing she’s my wife, knowing I somehow got lucky enough to have her, and knowing I’d be the stupidest man alive to let that go.

Not in ten months. Not in one hundred months. She’s it for me.

And maybe in the past, I told myself some bullshit about how I needed to let her go, how I didn’t want to ruin things for her because I was incapable of being a good husband and a possible father.

That I already caused her to end up in the hospital once so I should cut my losses. But I don’t feel that way anymore.

I’m not going to let her go. I can be all those things and more for her because she makes it easy and though I won’t push her, I’ll be there when she’s ready to have me.

I swing my legs over the edge of the bed, running a hand through my hair before tugging on a pair of cotton shorts. No shirt this morning. I like the way she looks at my chest, and besides, it’s already shaping up to be a hot-as-hell late May day.

Downstairs, I start on breakfast for us.

No shift at the hospital tonight, but I’ll need to swing by at some point to check on my patients.

I wonder what Regan has planned for the day as I move around the kitchen, cracking eggs the way I know she likes them, toasting bread, cutting up fresh fruit, brewing coffee.

Scarlett sends me her daily check-in text and for the first time in weeks I get to tell my sister that things are good.

Really good. By the time I’m finished, I hear her behind me.

And when I turn around— fuck —I wasn’t ready.

Her dark auburn hair is piled into a lazy bun on top of her head, stray strands slipping free around her face.

Those bright blue eyes of hers are clearer today, lighter, and she’s wearing nothing but one of my long t-shirts.

One that I know she had to go in my room to snag which means she was looking for me when she woke up this morning.

Was she disappointed that I wasn’t in bed with her?

Is she naked under that?

I know without a doubt this time that she is. And now it’s all I can think about.

“I made breakfast,” I say, gesturing to the counter, trying, and failing at not staring at her bare legs.

She tilts her head, giving me a small, sleepy smile. “You don’t have to keep doing that.”

I pull out a chair for her as she slides in, the hem of her shirt riding up just enough to confirm what I already suspected. She isn’t wearing any shorts.

“I know,” I say, my voice rough with need to touch her. My hands twitch against the back of the chair. She’s intoxicating. It’s unreal how much being close to her changes me. “I’m not doing it because I have to, I’m doing it because I want to.”

She watches me for a beat, as if trying to absorb that, before reaching for a piece of bacon. “Well, thank you. This has been nice.”

I give her a nod and round the counter, leaning against it, sipping my coffee as I study her. Little nose. Big, round blue eyes. She’s a fucking vision, no matter the time of day, but there’s something in her expression right now, something distant and thoughtful this morning.

“Is the food tasting okay?” I ask.

She nods, swallows and takes a sip of coffee. “It’s perfect.”

I smile, but she’s still somewhere else, lost in her thoughts. I just hope she isn’t regretting what we did last night.

“What do you have planned for today?” I ask, giving her space to answer.

“I need to stop by the egg farm,” she says, picking at her toast. “Colt and Cash need help with the chicks. They’re laying like crazy, so I need to do some sorting and labeling now that Lawson’s worked on a rebrand that he’s going to start pushing at the end of the summer.”

I nod. “Can I help you with any of that?”

Her lips part slightly, and she hesitates, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth like she’s not sure if she should say yes.

Then, finally, she nods. And I’m surprised.

Lately, she’s had an excuse anytime I’ve suggested doing something that would require my path crossing with her family’s.

Usually, she finds a way to redirect the conversation. But today… today, she doesn’t.

A small smile tugs at her lips. “Yeah. I’d like that.”

Good.

I nod, mirroring her smile, but she’s still thinking about something, still lingering on whatever’s been pressing on her since she sat down.

“May I ask you something?” she says softly.

I set my coffee down and lean forward on the counter. “You can always ask me anything. I’ll always be honest with you even if it’s something that doesn’t make me look very good. I promise.”

She takes a deep breath and meets my gaze.

“What were we like?” she asks. “Right before the accident?”

I knew this was coming. She’s danced around it the past few nights. And though we’ve spent our evenings talking, we haven’t gotten into everything that happened the night of her accident.

I nod, exhaling slowly. “We were… mostly friends with benefits.”

She nods, but I see it—the flicker of something in her eyes. A small, quiet hurt. But that’s not the whole story.

“Until our second wedding day,” I add, voice low, steady.

“That’s when I finally got the courage to tell you that I wanted it all with you.

All of you. I was all in. I think that was always been in the back of my mind, but I was afraid to admit it to myself.

Afraid I’d hurt you because of my troubled past and you know, everything with my dad. ”

And now I know it’s time to tell her about what happened that night in detail.

Her breath stills, her fingers curling around her coffee mug as she waits for me to continue.

“I told you that you were it for me when we said, ‘ I do ,’” I continue, my voice softer now. “At the altar, in front of the Reverend. I said you were it now.”

And I still mean every word.

Her eyes widen, locking onto mine, and for a long moment, she just looks at me—like she’s turning my words over, trying to absorb them piece by piece and test my sincerity.

“And then I fucked up,” I say, my voice quieter now. “And it was too late.”

I drag a hand through my hair, exhaling hard.

“I’m not sure how much you already know but my dad…

he showed up at the wedding. Somehow . Uninvited.

He was a shit father... abusive to me and my siblings but I endured the brunt of it.

He said some stuff that messed me up.” My jaw tightens at the memory, the way my father’s words have always had the unique ability to twist under my skin like barbed wire ripping through the flesh.

“He’s probably the only person who can pull that kind of anger out of me that I thought I’d controlled and contained.

I lost it. I hit him. Ruined the whole night.

” I shake my head in disgust at the memory.

“My brother had to drag my drunk ass home where I told you to leave me alone. And after downing an entire bottle of whiskey, I got it in my head that I needed to fix it. That I had to tell you I was sorry, and I could be better—”

I glance at her, swallowing the lump in my throat.

“I was coming to tell you that I wanted to be your husband. For real. That I was done being a grown man who was a coward. That I wanted to date you properly, make love to you properly, beg for your forgiveness and ask for you to see me as more than the broken man I’d told myself that I’d always be.

But by the time I got to you…” My voice falters for a second, but I force it out.

“You’d already been hit and were at the hospital. ”

Because I pushed her away.

She nods, and what gets me, no, what absolutely wrecks me, is that she doesn’t even look surprised.

Of course. She must’ve heard this story before, probably from Rae or Molly.

She already knew most of these details but what she might not have known was how much I wanted to tell her I was sorry and not to leave.

That’s different. I can see it in her face.

The way she shifts, her fingers toying with her coffee mug.

“You really meant all that?” she asks, her voice almost too soft to hear. “You really wanted that with me before everything?”

I don’t hesitate.

“More than anything in the world.”

She sucks in a sharp breath, nodding, but there’s something else there now, a quiet hesitation. “And do you… do you think I wanted that too then?”

I lean across the island to reach out and tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear. My fingertips graze her skin, and she stills, her breath catching while I cup her cheek softly.

“I don’t know,” I admit. “And I don’t want to put words in your mouth, thoughts in your head, or feelings in your heart that you didn’t feel at the time and can’t remember. But it felt real to me.”

Her lips part slightly, and she nods, her big, blue eyes staring so deep into me it feels like she’s peeling me apart from the inside out.

“I’ll regret for the rest of my life sending you away,” I tell her, my voice thick. “When all you wanted was to be here for me when I was hurting. I swear, I’ll never do it again. I’m not that guy anymore. I’ll never push you away and I won’t cover up my feelings and pain with alcohol.”

She worries her bottom lip between her teeth, nodding again. And fuck it, I want to kiss her. I want to lean forward, close the space between us, press my lips to hers and pour every single unspoken word into her, but a knock on the screen door breaks the moment like a slap to the face.

Regan jerks back, out of my touch, like I just caught fire. At the same time that she moves away from me, her sister-in-law Rae steps inside the kitchen.

“Oh… hey, guys,” she says, her tone as amused as the smirk across her face.

She’s in her usual all-black-on-black outfit, dark eyeliner sharp as hell, eyes flicking between us like she knows what she just walked in on .

Which doesn’t bother me in the least. I haven’t been hiding shit about how I feel about Regan, how badly I want her, and I never will.

“I was just coming to pick up Regan,” Rae continues, that smirk deepening. “Figured we’d head to the egg farm together and catch up.”

Regan clears her throat, practically jumping out of her seat. “Yeah. Thanks, Rae. That sounds good. I just need to change. I’ll be right down.”

She rushes upstairs without so much as a glance in my direction, her face flushed.

I move to clean up the dishes, load the dishwasher and wipe down the countertop while Rae watches me, her arms crossed, looking entirely too smug.

“So…” she drags out.

I don’t bite because I’d never betray my wife’s trust. “You can ask Regan yourself.”

I turn on the dishwasher, fully prepared to ignore whatever bullshit she’s about to say. I know the Marshall family isn’t fond of me, but I also don’t give a fuck anymore.

“Hm…” Rae hums, tilting her head, before I finally turn to her.

“She’s my wife,” I say simply. “And I love her. I intend to keep it that way. Forever . ”

Her brows jump. “You love her?”

“I do.”

Her expression softens a tick. “She deserves the world.”

“I know and I’ll give it to her.”

She doesn’t say anything else, just offers a small nod before Regan appears again, now dressed in a pair of cutoff jean shorts and a simple white tank top that makes her skin practically glow in the morning light.

“You ready?” she asks, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

“Mhm,” Rae murmurs, still watching me like she knows something I don’t.

Regan motions toward me. “Oh, and Hayes is coming today too.”

“Oh, I bet Cash and Colt will love that,” Rae says dryly.

And I could not give a single fuck if they do.