Page 14 of Wildest Forever (Lovelock Bay #3)

CHAPTER EIGHT

MORGAN

L eaning against the doorframe of his bedroom, I scope the room out. He has already fixed the window, they're both open slightly and the once musty room now smells fresher.

The bed is stripped and bare, boxes still littered over the floor.

My chest aches a little and I find myself flattening my palm across my heart and through the thin material of my cotton tee.

We made this room up years ago. I asked my pops if we could make a room for my mom, you know, just in case she ever came back.

He knew she would never return, but me, a child, dreamt of the day she wrapped her arms around me and promised to never leave me again.

But of course, she never came.

The harsh reality sunk in finally and I knew it would always be me and him.

It wasn't a problem. He was the best mom, dad, granddad and grandma all rolled into one.He was there for every damn thing and I will never not be grateful to him. I never went without; he worked his fingers to the bone until he fell ill.

I hated that he was leaving me, but I knew that it was out of my control.

Sighing heavily, I feel his hand on my shoulder, and I turn to look at him.

“You need to stop biting his head off,” he gives me a small smirk, but I know that he is only smirking to soften his scolding.

I know he is right.

But I am bitter.

And I am allowed to be.

By gaining Pacey, I'm losing my pops.

And I wasn't ready for that.

“He isn't a bad kid, there is no way I would have chosen him if he was,” his grip on my shoulder tightens.

“Don't ruin this before it has even started Morgan, I know this isn't what you wanted; it's not what I wanted, but this is the hand we have been dealt and whilst I can still make choices that I feel are best for you and this ranch, then I will make them. Rivera was the right call. He will fix this ranch up like it is his own, he will work hard, and he will support and care for you.” I lower my head so he can't see the tears that prick in my green eyes.

“If you're really that unhappy, once I am gone and the ranch is out of trouble, then divorce him. Just don't take him off the deeds. I don't trust anyone but you and him, I can't have the risk of someone swooping in and taking my legacy away.”

I roll my head up as my eyes volley between his and I suck in a breath.

“We will work together, I may not always see eye to eye with him, but I'll try and not be so harsh...” I pause when I hear the sound of the creek on the bottom step before I see his head pop up as he climbs the stairs.

“That's my girl,” he places a kiss on my cheek before turning his back and patting Pacey on the chest as he passes him then disappearing into his room, closing the door behind him.

I allow myself to look at him, skating my eyes up and down his body.

I wish I didn't find him attractive, it really would help with this whole situation, but of course he has to look like he has been hand carved by God himself.

He stops in front of me and my stomach knots when his whiskey eyes burn into mine.

“How was your mom?” I ask, eyes dropping to the linen laundry bag that his fist is clinging to.

“Good, knitting,” he lifts his chin, his voice raspy. He goes to step around me after an agonising minute of silence, but I step in front of him.

“Look,” I drop my gaze for a moment before my sights are back on him.

“I know I am a lot, I have not been very welcoming to you...” I knot my fingers in front of me and see the way his lips twist into a half smile.

“But this is all new to me, I kind of feel a little out of sorts with it all.

.. and well, you're you... I'm me. At Randy's that random Friday night I was feeling brave, I remembered you from the wedding, and well, I had a little fun being flirty.

Never thought I would see you again and then a few weeks later you're in my kitchen and I am being told that we're to be married.” I take a breather, swallowing down the dryness in my throat.

“And here we are, married, living in a house together and I'm sure it's not just me who can feel the tension that brews between us.

.. and I am worried that this is how we're going to live our life out. Worried that I am stopping you from finding your one true love,” and the rest of my words get stuck at the back of my throat after the words that slipped past my lips.

“You're not,” his voice is flat as he answers me, “trust me, there is no one out there for me.”

I have no idea why, but it feels like he has just plunged a knife straight into my heart, and just when I finally catch my breath, he twists it up, slicing it open and watching as I bleed out in front of him.

“Cool, that's all I was worried about,” and tears mist my eyes, but I stand tall, my voice quiet as I roll my shoulders back.

“Cool,” he mimics my words, and I can feel the cold tone of his voice blanket me in a shiver.

He steps passed me again and this time I let him; I close my eyes and hold my breath until I hear the sound of the bedroom door close behind me, I jump slightly even though I knew it was coming. I give myself a minute or two before I head for my own room, slamming the door.

I needed to wash this mood off me, needed to sink into the deep copper tub and let the hot water wash all my stress away.

We're not going to co-exist without problems, but I was hoping our relationship would have been a bit warmer than it was. Then again what did I expect when I have treated him the way I have.

I have been immature.

He is living in my home, with my pops, with our rules and I am expecting him to be okay with it.

I have turned his life upside down.

He has had to leave his home, his family, his rules... to live with me.

My mind is in overdrive and by the time I sink myself in the bath I have given myself a tension headache.

Letting my shoulders dip beneath the hot water, my fingers press against my temples as I try and rub the ache away but it doesn't shift, just lowers to my neck, my shoulders... the tension growing the more I think about my situation.

I have been such a child about this whole thing because I didn't like the reason.

The reason is out of my control.

My pops is dying.

He has found someone to care for me, and maybe even love me.

Not that I think he wants love from the way he just shut me down, but, there is a chance.

But I needed to focus on the ranch and us not losing it.

That was our main job.

Keep the money coming in.

Keep the ranch in safe hands.

Pacey Rivera had an army he could use if needed.

I had me and Dusty.

We were small fry compared to Rivera Ranch, but still, this was our home, our livelihood and there was no way I was going down without a fight.

They may have offered stupid money for this bit of land, but there was no way in hell I was handing it over. They got my pops at a vulnerable time when his hospital bills were at an all time high, but I will not let him or them take away his legacy.

I would stand beside Pacey Rivera, my husband, and fight this war.

This may have not been the way I had envisioned my life going, but this is the hand we have been dealt.

I could either continue acting the way I am or stand shoulder to shoulder with him and keep the promise we both made to my pops and I know in that moment that I would always choose the latter.

Dressed in light cotton pyjama pants and a cropped tee, my hair is dry and tied into a messy bun on the top of my head. I open my bedroom door and glance down the hallway but it's deafly silent.

It's past midnight, I had debated going into Pacey's room to make sure he was okay but I didn't, I stayed right where I was until now.

I should just go to bed and sleep the day off, but before I can tell my mind what to do, we're walking down the narrow hallway and towards where his room is.

Stilling outside, I see the door is a jar. Pushing slightly and praying it doesn't creak, I find an empty room.

But the boxes are all gone, the bed is remade in new bedding, a lamp sits in the corner on his bedside unit and a new rug covers a small amount of the hardwood floor.

A candle is flickering away on the low window ledge, a cosy aroma filling the room and I cannot believe how much he has done to this room in such a short amount of time.

I cast my eyes to the corner where the black mold presented itself and I see that it has faded slightly, and I feel instantly bad that I put him in this room in the first place.

I would have been better putting him in my room and me taking the sofa for a few nights until it was sorted.

But, I was a bitch and let him move into it anyway.

I knew he was coming. I could have sorted it but I was being a brat, throwing my toys out the stroller in a sulk.

Guilt twists in my stomach and my thumb and finger finds my delicate wedding band as I twist it around my finger.

Stepping back, I pull the door two and turn on my heel as I make my way downstairs. I have no idea if he has washed the dishes, but if I was him, I wouldn't have out of spite.Because that's what I am like.

I am petty.

Walking down the stairs quietly, the kitchen is dimmed and I know he is in there.

Stepping off the bottom stair, I walk into the small kitchen to see him standing at the sink, in a tee and pyjama pants, washing the dishes.

Leaning against the doorframe, hands linked in front of me as I watch him silently for just a moment.

“I would have done them,” I eventually say quietly, and he looks over his shoulder at me, his messy blond hair tufty and unkept.

“It's fine, you cooked, I clean...” he trails his eyes forward and off me. “That's the rules in my house,” and I don't miss the sharpness to his words.

Stepping closer into the kitchen, I drag one of the wooden chairs out and sit myself down, crossing one leg over the other as I sit and watch him.

“Thank you for fixing the step,” I mumble, just trying to make any form of conversation.