Chapter 5
Lacey
I wake Friday morning realizing this is my new normal.
No hearing the Judds playing in the kitchen while my mother cooks morning breakfast for the ranch. No more hearing her say, “Good morning, my sunshine,” when I would see her before morning chores. No more listening to her sing, “You are my sunshine,” the song she said was for Carson and me.
I am too young for this. I am too young to go on with life without my mother by my side, holding my hand, telling me everything is going to be okay.
I need my mama.
I inhale and exhale, fighting back the tears. I don’t want a new normal—I want my mama.
Lacey, get up, there is no use in crying over things you cannot control. Theres’s life to live.
I hear her voice in my ears, and I smile against the sadness. “Alright, mama. I hear you.”
I wash my face and brush my hair and teeth, before I pull my hair back into a high ponytail. Pulling on my Wranglers, a blue tank top, and my cowgirl hat, I make my way down to the kitchen.
“Morning, little sis.” Carson startles me, a cup of coffee in his hand as he leans up against the counter by the sink, looking at his phone.
“What’s the plan today?” I ask him as I pour my own cup of coffee, grabbing a muffin from the bag of goodies Mrs. Mabel brought yesterday before she put another basket in the cottage.
I have not been out there to check on our guest, so today I intend to make an appearance. Normally, I am out there soon as they arrive and make supper at the main house for them if they would like some, like my mama did. My mind is not in the headspace for all of that right now, though.
“We are meeting with the lawyer in an hour. Have you already forgotten?” he smirks.
“Ugh. Yes, I forgot. Let me go take some things down to the cottage and check on the lady there. I told Mrs. Mabel I would today. I will meet you at the lawyer’s office.”
He nods, finishing his cup of coffee and rinsing it out in the sink. “Okay I need to stop by the co-op anyways and get their order for next month, and payment.” He grabs his cowboy hat off the bar and puts it on, pulling me into a hug before he heads out the door.
I walk past the barn and stick my head inside; all the cattlemen are busy at work. “You all need anything?” I ask them.
Each one looks up and gives me a sympathetic smile. “No, Lace. But thank you.” Briggs, our foreman, says, “Can I help you with that?” He gestures to the towels in my arms.
“No, but thank you,” I grin back. Briggs is a sweet guy and around Carson’s age. My mother always said he was into me, and I would laugh it off, thinking she was crazy.
Because he is literally my brother’s age—THIRTY-THREE—like, that’s so weird.
I nod to the men and step back out, making my way to the cottage. It is a beautiful summer day, the breeze is flowing slightly, the birds are chirping in the distance, and the sunshine feels nice on my skin.
I knock on the door of the cottage and wait for our guest to come to the door. When she doesn’t, I knock again.
No answer.
Huh.
I grab the doorknob, it turns easily, telling me it’s unlocked, so I step inside. I see no one so I put the towels down on the table and say, “Hello? Mrs. Patterson?”
“Hey, Lace.” A male voice and body emerge from the bedroom door, wet, and a towel draped around his hips. A thick bull skull tattoo on his chest and the most perfect abs I think I have ever seen from a man make my mouth go dry.
“Beckett. Wh-What are you doing here?” I stutter.
He chuckles, “Needed somewhere to stay while I am here.”
“We had a booking under Patterson,” I exclaim.
He grabs one of the towels and my eyes roam his arm. His biceps are bigger than my head and the veins on them . . . Oh my god, I’m wet. My body remembers the way his hands felt around my waist when I bumped into him at the church yesterday.
Lacey, stop. He is Carson’s age. Your brother hates him. Stop thinking of him like that.
“I used an alias so your brother wouldn’t know,” he tells me like it’s nothing.
“Beckett. You cannot stay here. Carson will flip.” My eyes are still on his arm, or maybe his abs. They have a mind of their own right now.
“You going to look at me in the eyes or keep staring at my body?” he grins.
The nerve of this guy.
My eyes are searing into him now.
“I paid full price for this dump. So, I wouldn’t be complaining if I was you,” he tells me.
“This dump?” My voice is now shaking with anger, and my hands on my hips. “Beckett, this place raised you and you left it.”
He rolls his eyes, “What do you care?”
“I- I don’t,” I huff, “but for some reason, my brother does and that’s enough for me.”
Whatever I just said, makes him take a long breath and release it slowly.
“Thank you for your hospitality, Miss Taylor,” he tells me, and tears fill my eyes.
“Please don’t call me that. My mother was Mrs. Taylor.”
When his arm touches my shoulder, it feels like electricity runs through me, just like it did yesterday at the funeral. I jump back, “I need to go. Let Mrs. Mabel know if you need anything and please stay away from Carson.”
“Where are you going?” he asks me.
“To town for a few a meeting. Why?”
“Mind if I tag along? I need to be in town in thirty minutes and I didn’t bring a vehicle with me.”
Carson is going to be pissed if he sees us together.
“Or I can leave a bad review on your Airbnb page.”
I narrow my eyes at him. “You wouldn’t.”
He shrugs. “Try me, Lace.”
“I am LACEY to you! Go get dressed. I leave in fifteen minutes with or without you.”
The son of a bitch chuckles his happy—and hot—ass down the hall into the bathroom.