Page 55 of Wildest Forever (Lovelock Bay #3)

Tilting my head to the side, my lips lift into a smirk as she lowers herself down, her top half leant over. My eyes scope the round of her ass in those light colored jeans and my dick throbs in my pants.

Gliding my feet across the floor, I stand behind her and curl my hand around her hip as she straightens herself up, her gaze catching mine across her shoulder.

“Do you need any help?” I whisper against her cheeks and I watch as her face lights up, her beautiful smile pulling me in.

“No thank you, but you can go get cleaned up for me,” she pecks a kiss on my lips and shimmies herself from my grasp and I groan.

“Fine,” I sulk off in a playful manner and climb the stairs.

Once showered, I am dressed in a loose tee and jeans. Roughing my hair up with product, I make my way downstairs, and the smell of the food warms my soul and makes my belly grumble.

“Done,” I chime, and she spins on her heel and gives me the once over before her hips sashay my way, her small hand resting on my cheek as she leans in and kisses me.

“You look handsome,” her nose scrunches and my cheeks blush. Not sure why, but there is something so hot when your wife calls you handsome. Gets me all giddy, heart races beneath my skin and goosebumps tease at the base of my neck causing the hairs to stand.

“How long until the Rivera gang are here?” I ask, my voice floating over to her.

“About twenty minutes,” she shrugs a shoulder up as she begins clearing bits away.

“That'll be more like ten... us Riveras are always early,” I wink and I watch as her eyes widen and the panic sets in.

“What!?” she shrieks as she looks around at the mess and I can see she is getting more and more overwhelmed as the seconds pass.

“Hey, hey,” I mutter, closing the gap between us in five steps and cupping her cheek in my hand. “We've got this, tell me what to do and I’ll do it.”

She nods, but her eyes dart around the room.

“I'll tidy, you set the table,” I whisper as I seal my words with a kiss before she can argue back.

Spinning her away, I make quick work of clearing the countertops and wiping them down.

I unload and load the dishwasher whilst she potters behind me, us moving in a dance that only we know, carefully moving around each other.

She disappears into the dining room and I know this is a big deal to her. She loves to cook, but she loves even more to cook for people.

The sound of a soft knock on our front door has my head spinning and her slender frame leaning around the doorframe.

“I'll get it,” I tell her and move towards the door. Letting my fingers curl around the handle, I push it down before pulling the door to see my mom, Aspen, Riggs, Dixie, Lainey and Tripp.

“Hey ma,” I say softly, she smiles and steps towards me and I place a kiss on her cheek.

She is already searching for Morgan so I nod towards the kitchen.

Aspen and Dixie walk past me, Lainey on Dixie's hip, her legs resting over her bump and she gives me a smile, Lainey gurgling as her little hands grab out.

Tripp walks through next and gives me a shallow nod and closes the gap between himself and Dixie as he sweeps Lainey into his arms and she giggles as he blows a raspberry on her cheek.

Riggs is next over the threshold, and he places his hand on my chest, resting it where my tattoo is inked into my skin and after a moment, he pats it softly.

Closing the door behind him, I inhale heavily as we walk side by side and into the small kitchen.

“It's looking better in here,” he admits as he looks around the newly decorated kitchen.

The walls are a warm cream and new hardwood floor has been laid that runs through to the living room.

We wrapped the cabinets in a sage green and up cycled some gold handles and you don't realise how much it makes the room.

The counter is still the same, but it looks newer since the makeover.

“It is, isn't it?” and pride blooms in my chest. It's not much, but we're making the empty shell into a home. The small ranch house fell into disrepair when Gerry fell ill, and well, it never got any love or care. But now, now we had the time to give the home the love it deserved.

Dixie passes us and walks into the living room, and I glance over my shoulder as she places Lainey on the floor then unpacks her bag of toys.

Dixie sits in Gerry's chair and my heart aches.

I can hear mom talking to Morgan and my heart swells in my chest. She deserves to have a family like this. Her pops did everything for her, brought her up from a baby and turned her into the woman she is today. Fierce, strong, bold, beautiful, kind, empathetic... the list is endless.

Riggs walks past me and heads for Tripp and Aspen is carrying the plates through to the dining room.

“The house smells amazing Morgs,” Aspen says before she tucks herself around the doorframe of the dining room and I hear her thank Aspen.

I turn and walk to Dixie, she watches her daughter with intent but her mind is elsewhere.

“You okay?” I ask, one hand fisting into my pocket. I know yesterday must have been a lot, finding out your dad has killed someone who was close to her husband and his family, but also, that he has been here, right under her nose and he hasn't even tried to reach out to her.

Madness.

She slowly tears her eyes away from Lainey and looks up towards me. She is hesitant for a moment before she nods.

“I know we're not overly close...” I trail off and a bubble of a laugh escapes from deep inside of her. “But I am always here for you.”

Her head rolls forward, her brown wavy hair framing her face and my eyes move to her daughter who is babbling, a toy in her hand as she waves it up and down.

A sad smile crosses my lips as I look at her.

“We will fix this Dixie, you know that right,” I crouch down in front of her and she looks at me and I don't miss the tear that glistens down her cheek.

“I know,” she sniffles, “it was just a shock you know...” she nods then looks over her shoulder at her daughter.

“I know,” I nod back at her.

Footsteps sound behind me and I push to my feet when I see Tripp in the doorway.

“Dix,” I can hear the concern in his voice as he rushes over to her and falls to his knees as he scoops her face into his hands.

“I'm fine,” she reassures my brother. Pushing to my feet, I take that as my cue to leave.

Rounding the kitchen doorway, I tuck myself into the kitchen and watch as everyone helps Morgan place the food on the table, well apart from Riggs. He just stands, his back against the countertop, eyes faced forward and his mind is a million miles away from here.

I walk past him and grab some glasses and place them on the coasters.

Morgan looks at me and gives me a soft smile and I know she is in her element.

For someone who never had a family, she sure is a family girl.

She calls for everyone to take their seats and Dixie, Tripp and Lainey join us. Tripp holds onto Lainey's booster seat and hooks it around the chair seat. Dixie places her in her booster and she kicks her legs with excitement.

“Someone’s hungry, huh,” my lips tug at the corner and Dixie gives me a warm smile.

“Loves her food,” she lowers her lips to Lainey's head and dusts a kiss over her dark hair before her hand strokes across and twirls in her little curly lock at the nape of her neck.

I feel Morgan's eyes on me and I snap out of my gooey state and roll my shoulders back. Letting my eyes dust across the table, I furrow my brows at the missing wine.

“No wine?” I ask, eyes bouncing towards my wife.

“Oh, I forgot to grab it. Bottom cupboard...” she trails off and I am already walking towards the kitchen and lowering myself to grab one bottle of white and one bottle of red.

Walking back into the room, I pause for a moment and look across the table.

Everyone I care most about in this world is here, sitting with us.

Aspen is talking softly to Riggs, his lips locked into a smile, eyes glued to her as he admires every inch of her face.

Dixie and Tripp are sitting either side of Lainey, their arms hooked behind her chair and their fingers intwined, loose smiles on their faces as Dixie talks softly, her hand rubbing over her bump.

Mom is talking to Morgan but her gaze catches mine.

I give her a soft nod before walking forward and placing the bottles of wine in the center.

“Who would like a glass?” I ask and the quiet chatter simmers down to silence.

Everyone raises their glasses, all but Dixie, and I fill glasses. Some with red, some with white.

Morgan has cooked up a whole roast chicken, creamed potatoes, vegetables, a red wine jus and bread rolls.

My stomach rumbles and I cannot wait to dive in.

“Who would like to say grace?” Morgan says sweetly, her eyes dancing around the room. Orla stares at Riggs and I know she is silently asking him to volunteer.

I clear my throat, ready to speak but Riggs raises his hand slightly.

“I'll do it,” he shuffles in his seat and Aspen gives him a tight smile.

He bows his head and everyone follows suit.

I sneak a look, and his eyes are drifting between mine and Tripp.

We're the only ones who don't have our eyes closed and we both wait until Riggs closes his eyes before we close ours.

“We're thankful for the food laid on the table, thankful that Morgan has spent the afternoon in the kitchen cooking and preparing to entertain us...” he trails off for a moment and I flutter my lashes open and see him shuffling in his seat.

“Lord, please protect my family, please keep us wrapped in your arms as we navigate through the next few days...” and my heart jack hammers in my chest, “please bless us as we prepare to fight one of the hardest wars of our life, to protect my family, to protect our land, to protect our legacy.”

I side eye Tripp and he gives me an awkward shrug.

“I know I am asking a lot of you, and I know I am a man who doesn't pray and ask for your guidance, but I know you would never turn me away when I asked upon you.” His voice trembles for just a moment but he styles it out with a light cough.

“Amen,” and when his eyes open, everyone is looking at him.

“Riggs?” ma says, worry etched into her face and I inhale sharply, sitting tall in my chair as Morgan's eyes cast to mine.

“We're going to war ma,” he says softly, and I watch as the girls faces turn to their partners, but not mom's. Her eyes are firmly on the oldest son.

She drops her head and begins to pray.

Morgan slips her hand across the table, and I dip my fingers between her thumb and index and give it a tight squeeze.

“I promise,” I lean across and lower my gaze to hers, “we will end this war, once and for all.”