Chapter 18
ROYCE
Royce pulled onto his family’s property and stared up at the house where he’d grown up. It was large enough for him and all seven of his siblings, though sometimes it did feel overwhelming, especially when his father insisted that everyone continue living under one roof until they were married.
He got the distinct impression it was more about control and less about familial connection.
Royce loved his siblings. Even when they got under his skin. He had nothing against living with them except for when Lincoln started breathing down his neck for no reason.
Even with all the sneaking around, Royce managed to get his work done. Lincoln couldn’t claim that Royce was slacking. If anything, he was doing more since he arrived earlier than everyone else even woke up most mornings.
Unfortunately, it was wearing on him more with each passing day. Whether it was the secrets he was keeping or the constant back and forth, he didn’t know. Heck, it could be all of it. At some point, something would give, and he’d have to tell his father and his brother what he’d done.
He wished his mother was still around. Maybe she’d have some insight. She could always get his father to listen to reason.
But Lucy?
Royce’s stepmother wasn’t nearly as good at reining Christopher Meyers in when he got fired up.
Royce tucked his helmet under his arm and climbed off his bike. He didn’t plan on staying long. Just enough to make an appearance at dinner so he had an alibi if anyone managed to see him at the wedding. He could claim it had been someone else.
He headed for the porch, then froze.
His plan to go inside unnoticed to change was shot to pieces when he locked eyes with his brother.
Lincoln slowly rose to his full height, his shrewd gaze sweeping over Royce and the suit he wore. There was a menacing tilt to his lips, and Royce knew before his brother uttered a single word that he wasn’t going to like it.
“Not exactly the kind of clothes someone wears when they’re out riding.”
“You don’t have a bike, so forgive me for not caring about your opinion.” Royce took a step to the side, hoping that would be the end of it.
He should have known better.
Lincoln moved with him. “Where were you this evening?”
Royce scowled. “That’s none of your business.”
“Oh, I think it is.”
The way he said it sounded more like a threat than a statement laced with curiosity. Did he know something? Had someone reported back to him where Royce had slipped off to? He wouldn’t put it past a few people in this gossip-riddled town to say something.
Heck, Royce hadn’t been all that careful lately when he’d been in town with Penny. Maybe this didn’t even have anything to do with the wedding. Maybe someone finally mentioned something to his brother, and he’d been caught.
Was that warmth in his gut relief?
Was he actually pleased with the idea that he might never have to hide his relationship again?
It appeared so, because he was finally able to take a deep, calming breath.
“You knew it was only a matter of time,” he murmured.
Lincoln arched a single brow. “What was a matter of time?”
Right at that moment, the front storm door swung open, and his father appeared. His arms were crossed, and his dark eyes assessed him. Much like Lincoln, he seemed to judge Royce’s clothing choices with suspicion.
Well, shoot.
This wasn’t about the wedding.
It didn’t even seem to be about Penny.
Which meant he still had a secret to keep while trying to protect Penny from the aftershocks of their revelation. He swallowed hard, his arm tightening on the helmet. “Whatever it is you want to say, just say it.”
He tensed, preparing himself for whatever it was his brother wanted to throw at him.
“You’ve been slacking.”
Royce couldn’t have controlled his reaction if he’d trained for years to do so. His jaw dropped, and he glanced at his father to confirm he felt the same.
It wasn’t a surprise that his dad didn’t correct Lincoln or add to it.
He was simply watching.
Huffing, Royce shook his head. “I’ve been pulling more than my weight. I get here early—”
“Get here?” Lincoln’s face scrunched with a mixture of confusion and argument.
Royce coughed and threw his fist to his chest. “You know what I mean. I get out here early. I do all the work no one else wants to complete. I help when you insist you need me over someone else. I run all kinds of errands—”
“And that’s the problem.”
Stilling, Royce watched his brother impatiently. He didn’t see any problem.
“You’re always heading to town when someone else can handle whatever it is you’re doing.
You’re second born. You’re supposed to be my assistant, learning everything I have to do in case something happens to me.
How am I supposed to know that you’re capable of doing any of it when you’re not even here most of the time? ”
The tightness in his chest was excruciating.
This wasn’t about Penny or his secret marriage. It wasn’t about breaking the one rule their family had regarding staying away from the Taylor bloodline.
This was about Lincoln making sure the family was taken care of.
What he didn’t know was that Royce wanted none of it.
He glanced at the house and the property. While he loved working the fields and being the farmer his parents had raised him to be, he wasn’t sure he wanted all the responsibility that came with running the family farm. Sure, he was second in line. The chances were slim that he’d have to step up.
But there was a chance all the same.
“Maybe I don’t want this.”
His brother barked out a laugh. “What?”
“You heard me. I don’t want to be the one in charge of any of this.”
Lincoln laughed again, but their father wasn’t amused.
Well, neither was Royce.
Lincoln stepped toward him. “You need to grow up and realize this isn’t about you. This is about family.”
It took everything in him not to throw the fact that he had a new family in his brother’s face.
Penny wouldn’t be thrilled with it going down like that. And every choice he made needed to have her in mind, not just his temper.
So he tightened his hold on the helmet and continued to scowl at his brother while Lincoln ranted about how they were raised. When he couldn’t take it anymore, he swiped a hand through the air.
“I’m done with this. Pick someone else to be your protégé. Leave me out of it.”
He turned on his heel and headed for his bike. Penny was the most important person right now.
“Royce!” Lincoln shouted after him. “If you leave—”
He didn’t hear what his brother had to say. Not after he started the engine and took off down the gravel path.
His fury continued to bubble, but beneath it was something heavier.
Hurt.
He was a good son. An even better brother. All he wanted was the support no one seemed ready to offer him when it came to falling in love.
Where was the trust?
If Lincoln believed so much in family and the importance of being there for each other, why did Royce know in his heart of hearts that they would tell him to walk away from the first good thing to ever happen to him?
He was so consumed with his thoughts that he didn’t see the deer leaping across the road until it was too late.
He swerved.
His motorcycle went down, skidding along the asphalt. Royce hit hard, his clothing tearing and the visor of his helmet cracking.
For a moment, he couldn’t move.
His body felt broken as he lay there on the road and stared up at the darkening sky.
“Royce. Royce Meyers,” a frantic, familiar voice called from somewhere near the front of the ER department.
Royce closed his eyes and smiled.
The second he’d gotten to the hospital, he’d insisted they needed to call his wife. It had felt so good to say that. The sweet woman who did his intake took down Penny’s information and assured him she’d make the call.
She was here.
A quiet gasp ripped through the silence of his room, and he peeked one eye open.
She was furious.
“What in heaven’s name were you thinking?” Penny snapped.
He let loose a soft chuckle and lifted a hand.
“This isn’t funny, Royce,” she bit out again, but there was emotion in her eyes.
“I know, baby. It’s definitely not funny.”
At that, her lower lip wobbled. She wasn’t dressed for the wedding anymore, and he had to wonder if she’d been home when she got the call or if she’d stopped by their apartment to change before coming.
If he had to guess, it was the former.
“Come here, sweetheart. I’m fine. Just some scrapes and cuts.”
She seemed to hesitate but only for a moment before she rushed into the room and leaned carefully over him. Her arms went around his shoulders, gentle enough that he knew she was trying not to hurt him, but tight enough to tell him how scared she’d been.
The tenderness was totally worth the ache in his ribs when she clung to him, murmuring sweet words he could barely make out.
He definitely heard a few.
Love.
Idiot.
Never again.
Smiling, Royce brought his hand to the back of her head.
Motion in the doorway caught his attention, and he locked eyes with a male nurse. He had wavy brown hair and light brown eyes. Or maybe they were green?
The nurse’s eyes locked on Penny, and he frowned for a moment before glancing at Royce again.
Then he walked away.
That was weird, right?
Penny didn’t pull back. Not even when a doctor came into the room to inform him that his x-rays looked good and nothing was broken. She cried quietly, though.
And it broke his heart.
By the time she’d calmed herself enough to pull back and look at him, her eyes were red-rimmed and puffy. Her cheeks were streaked with tears. But her eyes flashed with that fury he’d recognized when she’d arrived.
“You scared me,” she said, her voice shaking. “I don’t think I’ve ever been that scared.”
His smile faded. “I’m sorry.”
“You should be.”
“I am.”
Her hand hovered near his jaw, then touched him feather-light. “When they called, I didn’t know what I’d come here to find.”
The words hit harder than any pain from the accident.
“It’s fine. I’m fine, sweetheart.” His voice softened. “It won’t happen again.”
Her eyes sharpened. “Not if you stop riding that motorcycle.”
He pressed his lips together thinly.
“I mean it, Royce. I can’t do that again. I can’t get a call like that and wonder if you’re lying on the side of the road somewhere.”
Now was not the time to tell her she couldn’t boss him around. They might be married, but he still had autonomy. If he wanted to burn off some steam on the back of a motorcycle, that was his choice.
But looking at her face, at the fear still sitting there plain as day, he knew this was not a conversation to win in this moment.
Royce reached up and curled her hair behind her ear. The strands had fallen loose from the updo she’d put them in for the wedding.
“I hear you,” he said quietly.
Her eyes searched his. “Do you?”
“I do.” He brushed his thumb along her cheek. “We’ll talk about that later. But not tonight. I’m not planning on getting back on that bike anytime soon.”
Some of the tension in her shoulders eased, though not all of it.
Apparently, his answer was enough for now, because she nodded and shifted closer. “How long until I can take you home?”
Her touch on his face was feather-light. Her expression softened when she took him in. He winced when she grazed a cut he had on his jaw, and she frowned.
“Hmm, I like that,” Royce whispered.
“Like what?”
“The way you made it sound like ours. Home.” He met her gaze.
“That’s because it is.”