Chapter 35
Lacey
The kitchen is quiet this morning. Carson must have got up and going before sunrise by the way the coffee pot had to warm back up when I reached downstairs.
I sit at the kitchen island bar, looking over the bills for the week, and wonder if my life will ever be normal again.
My cell phone vibrates across the table, Marcus’s office number lighting up my home screen.
“Hello?” I answer defeated, knowing what this is about.
“Miss Taylor,” I wince at the name. I guess that’s me now. Marcus’s voice continues. “I was calling to let you know I have the paperwork ready for the ranch. When would be the earliest you three can come by and sign them?”
I deflate in my seat. I am not sure how Carson or Beckett will make it in a room together. “Will we all need to be present at the same time?”
“Yes, ma’am. I will have to witness it.”
I sigh. “Okay. Do you have an opening this evening?”
“I do! Will four o-clock work?”
“Yes. Thank you. Will you call my brother and tell him?”
“Um, sure. May I ask why?”
“Because I am not speaking with him until he reads mom’s letter,” I answer truthfully.
“Ah, I see. Carson is still being Carson.”
Marcus knows all about his temper. He’s been on the receiving in of it a few times for sure.
“Correct.”
“I am sorry, Lacey. Yes, I will call him now. See you at four.”
“Thank you, Marcus.”
I place the phone on the bar face down, rubbing my hands through the top of my head. I haven’t even started my day yet and I already want it to be over.
Fifteen minutes later, I head toward the cottage ready for the day in my Wranglers, purple tank top, and hair pulled back in a braid. The cattlemen are in various places throughout the pastures and barns, doing work.
“Everything okay?” Briggs stops outside the shed, eyeing me curiously. My face must show my frustration.
“Yeah.” I stop and talk. “Just have to be at the lawyer’s office this evening to finish the paperwork.” I tell him. I look down to the car seat in his hands. “Where did you find that?”
“Oh.” He looks embarrassed. “I didn’t.”
“So, you’re just carrying around a child’s car seat with you?” I tease.
Briggs suddenly looks like he wants to be anywhere else but here. “It’s mine. I have to pick my little boy up this evening. His mama is sick. I may need a few days off.”
Briggs is a . . . dad? I had no idea.
“Of course. Just let me know.” I tell him. “How is it I have never known this about you?”
He shrugs. “Not something I am proud of.”
I look at him horrified that he would say that about his own child. I know the moment he realizes what I am thinking because he says. “Oh, no. I don’t mean it like that. It’s just, he was an accident. His mother and I were never together. I didn’t want anyone to look down on me for it.”
The horror on my face turns to a soft smile. “Who could ever look down on you for stepping up? I hope I get to meet the little guy.”
Briggs smiles. “Absolutely. He is just starting to walk and says dada, along with other gibberish, all the time.”
It’s adorable to see Briggs in dad mode talking like this.
Leaving him to put his car seat in his truck, I head on toward the cottage, not bothering to knock when I reach the front door.
Beckett is nowhere in sight as I step through the door frame. “Beckett?” I yell.
No answer.
I walk down the hall and open his bedroom door. “Beckett? Oh my god!”
The very naked ass connected to Beckett King is shining bright above the covers as the King himself sleeps peacefully on his mattress.
I should retreat, but I don’t. Instead, I open the bathroom door, grab a washcloth, and turn the cold water on, drowning the cloth until it’s good and cold.
Walking back over to the bed, I take one more glance at the sleeping giant before me, before grinning and wringing the cold rag over his face.
“What the . . ..” A groaning Beckett opens his eyes and jumps when he realizes what I am doing.
“Lacey!!” he snarls. “Stop!”
“Why? This is funny!!”
But it’s not laughter on his face, it’s pure fear. I stop immediately when Beckett retreats to the far end of the bed, pulling the covers over him, shaking.
“Hey!” I crawl on the bed towards him. “What is it?”
He won’t talk to me at first, his eyes staring off into an abyss somewhere. I grab his cheeks and force him to look at me. “Beckett, talk to me.”
“My-My parents use to put a towel over my face and pour buckets of water over me when I was doing something they didn’t like.”
“Wh-what?” I couldn’t imagine someone being so mean. I knew his parents were mean people, but I never knew he was abused.
“They didn’t like it one time that I was staying over here instead of coming home and cooking for them. It was a long night,” he shutters.
“Oh, Beckett. I am so sorry.” I slide in beside him, wrapping my arms around him pulling him into me.
“My parents didn’t say much about yours. I just knew they never got along.”
He looks down at me. “You didn’t know anything about my parents at all?”
I shake my head, no.
He sighs. “They were literal demons here on earth. Sometimes I wish they never had me or had gotten rid of me once they knew I existed. It would have saved me the trauma I face now.”
I gasp. “But then we wouldn’t have you. Beckett, you were meant to find us. I just cannot fathom how anyone would want to hurt their child.”
“Your mama questioned the same thing in the letter she wrote me.”
A tear escapes my eyes and falls to his shoulder. I never realized how bad it was for him. I never knew why he left. Now it is making sense.
“So, you’re talking to me now?” Beckett changes the subject.
I giggle. “No, but I came to inform you we have a meeting with Marcus at four this evening. You can ride with me since you do not have a car.” I rise off the bed and walk to the door, “Don’t be late.” I wink.