37. Beck
Beck
TWO MONTHS LATER
“Is that everything?” I set down a box of my dad’s belongings in the living room of the small rancher, and put my hands on my hips as I survey the place.
I have a lot of memories here. Late nights spent with Lyla going over the ranch finances, sitting on the back porch eating peaches and whipped cream, the first night we spent together in the shower.
The pang of nostalgia I feel when I think back to it all only lasts a second, because now I’m reminded that all the best parts of life with Lyla are yet to come.
“That’s about it,” my dad says.
“Are you sure you don’t want any help unpacking?”
He waves me off in a nah gesture. “I can handle it from here. I’m not so decrepit I can’t unload a few boxes. Besides, it doesn’t all need to be unpacked today.”
We already spent the morning carting boxes from the big house across the yard to what used to be the guest house–Lyla’s house.
He had suggested the move, saying it was time for me to be the man of the house.
I’d managed to bring the ranch back from the brink of bankruptcy, so it was only right that the big house would be mine and Lyla’s.
It also helps that the guest house doesn’t have stairs, which have been more and more difficult for my dad to manage. But I still worry about him, on his own down here, and I study his weathered face looking for any signs that he might have changed his mind.
“You got your CPAP machine all plugged in and ready to go?” I ask. I left it out of the boxes and brought it down here myself, so it wouldn’t get lost.
“Already set up on my night stand.”
I walk over to the fridge and open it. It’s been stocked with groceries–Lyla’s doing–and it makes my heart warm to see how she’s taken care of him. She’s thought of everything he might need, down to the oat coffee creamer she got him hooked on.
“You don’t have to worry about me, Beck. I’ve taken care of myself for years, I can handle living on my own again. I’m looking forward to it if I’m honest. Won’t have you kids keeping me up all night anymore.”
“Shit,” I say. Lyla’s been staying in my room ever since we reconciled and decided to give our relationship a fighting chance, and we’ve been in a real honeymoon phase of sorts. Sometimes it’s easy to forget my dad has been living down the hall. “Sorry. You can’t hear…”
“Nothin’ I haven’t heard before, son.” He pats me on the shoulder as he passes by me to head into the living room and start unpacking some boxes there. “You better get home to her now.”
“Alright. You call if you need anything. Night or day. I’ve got your appointment schedule on the fridge, Lyla will take you to any during the week.
I know I don’t have to say it, but you’re always welcome for dinner, every night.
And if you don’t feel like having dinner with us, I’ll bring it down to you. ”
“That girl really has rubbed off on you,” my dad says with a chuckle.
I tilt my head, eyebrows twitching together.
“I’ve never heard you talk so much in your whole damn life.”
Lyla is flitting around the kitchen when I get back to the main house and open the sliding door to step inside. She’s been just as hard at work moving herself in here as I’ve been moving my dad out.
I stop and admire her for a moment, before she realizes that I’m here. She’s humming a bright and cheerful tune, walking around barefoot, a long floral skirt swishing around her legs, and a tank top that hangs loosely on her frame, no bra, as usual.
She’s a fucking goddess, and she’s all mine.
“You’re back,” she says, flashing me a wide, beaming smile as she fluffs some throw pillows that were not on my couch when I left this morning.
They’re a multitude of bright colours, kind of a bohemian design, and I chuckle softly to myself as I notice other colourful additions she’s added to the otherwise neutral backdrop of the house.
It hasn’t exactly been decorated, since it’s just been me and Dad living here, but the things Lyla has added work. They aren’t my taste, but Lyla could paint a fucking mural of cartoon farm animals on the wall and I’d let her. Whatever will make her feel like this is hers now. Ours.
More than anything I want her to envision a long life together here. So if she wants multicoloured throw pillows, plants in terracotta pots, and a butter yellow table cloth, I’m all in.
“I’m back,” I say.
She stops what she’s doing and strides over to me, throwing her arms around me and planting her lips on mine. She tastes like peaches and sunshine and my heart feels like it’s going to burst out of my chest.
“And god, you are the best thing I’ve ever come home to,” I murmur before kissing her again, this time sweeping my tongue into her delicious mouth.
Lyla lets out a soft moan, and something primal flares to life within me, a need to claim her. I grab the fabric of her skirt and bunch it, lifting it up so I can stroke the smooth, soft skin of her thigh. Backing her toward the kitchen table, I lift her by the leg so she’s sitting on it.
Her hands are already fumbling with the buttons of my shirt, roaming up my chest once she gets it off me. Then, they swiftly start working on my belt buckle.
“Wait,” I breathe, removing her hands from my belt. “I have something for you.”
Her eyebrows twitch together as I reach into the back pocket of my jeans and pull out the rolled up paper I’ve had there. The lawyer came by earlier with it, and I got so busy helping Dad move that I haven’t been able to give it to her.
She takes the document and unrolls it, eyes scanning the page quickly and then going wide.
“You weren’t actually serious that you were giving me the ranch,” she says, incredulous.
“What are you even thinking? If this is supposed to be some grand gesture or something, it isn’t necessary.
Honestly, hearing what you had to say about everything, I–”
“For fuck’s sake, Trouble,” I groan. “Would you read it closer?”
She looks down at it again, this time taking it in fully.
“It’s not the whole ranch, but some of it,” I explain. “It’s the parcel of land that the developers are always after. They practically froth at the mouth for it. You can tell them to fuck off every chance you get if you want to.”
“I can’t afford to buy this from you,” Lyla says, still not understanding the deal here. I’m not selling it to her, I’m giving it to her. “You do know that I’ve been essentially unemployed for the last two months.”
I nod. I promised I’d pay her once the ranch started turning a profit, and it’s only just started to get some revenue back. But I still intend to make good on my word. This is the best I can do in the meantime, and the only thing that seems adequate to make up for everything.
Lyla forgave me, but that doesn’t mean I won’t do what’s right.
“You’re not going to pay me, Lyla. It’s yours. You’ll own the land and be part owner of Wild Sage,” I say. I gesture for her to look at the page underneath, the one with shares in the ranch. “You can do whatever you want with it. Maybe even open that animal rescue you’ve dreamed about.”
She shakes her head, eyes turning glassy as she takes it all in.
“I know you were ready to leave Sage Valley behind, but I’m so glad you’re staying. I want you to have a piece of this, to know you will always have a home here.”
Tears fill her eyes, her dark lashes sticking together. I reach up and wipe them away with the pad of my thumb.
“Thank you,” she whispers.
I take the documents out of her hand and set them down on the table beside her. I bring my mouth to hers, kissing her top lip and then her bottom one and sucking it into my mouth. She responds by melting into me, letting the kiss draw a moan from her throat.
I lift her skirt higher, so it’s gathered around her waist. There’s already a dark spot blooming on the pink cotton thong she’s wearing.
“You’ve been thinking about me today, Trouble?” I ask, brushing my thumb up and down her seam through the fabric.
“All day,” she breathes as she pushes my pants down. She wraps her delicate hand around my hard shaft, pumping it until a bead of precum forms at the tip.
I lift her tank top over her head and palm her perfect, round tits.
“Fuck me, Beck. Take off my panties and fuck me,” she pants, as I tease and tweak her nipples.
This time, because Lyla and I have an entire future stretched out before us, I take my time removing her thong. I slide one hand down her chest, along her abdomen and grip the fabric so I can ease it over her hips, revealing her slick sex.
“Are you ready to christen our new place?” I say, bumping my tip against her entrance. I nudge myself into her, only a centimetre or two, before pulling back out, teasing her.
“It’s not exactly new,” she says, her voice strained.
“It’s new to us, like this,” I reply.
She looks up at me, her dark brown eyes intense, but almost… open, as if this time means something more, like she’s opening herself up to me in a whole new way. I lean down and kiss her as I ease myself back in, feeling her stretch around me as I bury myself in her.
Her mouth finds my jaw, my neck, and she nips at my earlobe before murmuring, “I love us, like this.”
“I love you, Trouble,” I say.