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I turn to him and run my fingers through his hair. “I know.” Because I trust him. Because I’m not letting myself hold back anymore. I need Sully, and I’m tired of fighting needing someone.
I climb out of his bed and throw my clothes on from yesterday. He sits up, watching me with a hungry smile on his lips.
“Be good.” I wink at him and sneak out. The second I close the door behind me, Randy steps out from around the other side of the house. Ah, hell. This can’t be good.
My gut immediately clenches because he just saw me coming out of Sully’s place. He had to know I slept there since I wasn’t in the bunkhouse, but looking at his bloodshot eyes beneath the floodlights, it doesn’t look like he got much sleep tonight.
“Mornin’.” I up-nod him and take a few steps toward the bunkhouse. It doesn’t surprise me that Randy follows.
“I knew you were fucking.”
My hands fist as I keep going, trying to fight down the anger building inside me. He’s trying to taunt me, trying to get me to fight with him so he can get me in trouble.
Just before I can go into the bunkhouse, he grabs my arm and twists me around. “How does it feel to know the man you’re fucking stole this ranch from you and knew it?”
Ice floods my veins. That’s…not true. Maybe the ranch part—I’ve always believed my dad was right about that—but Sully didn’t know.
“Fuck off.” I jerk away from him.
“Don’t believe me? Look at this.” He shoves a folder at me.
“Jesus, how the fuck did you get this? Were you looking through their shit?”
He shrugs. “Stayed with Patricia last night. Couldn’t sleep.”
“I don’t want this.” I try to give it back to him, but he holds his hands up and won’t take it. I tell myself I’m not curious, that I know Randy is just stirring up trouble, but…isn’t this what I’ve always wondered? Isn’t this what my dad went to his grave complaining about but no one believed him?
“Scared to find out your little boyfriend lied to you? That maybe that’s why he’s with you in the first place—so you can’t take part of the ranch from him, or hell, out of guilt that they stole it from you.”
My whole body stiffens. I know Sully. He wouldn’t do that. He loves me, but…why? Why does he love me? I’ve never been good enough for him, not really. He knows I could never take the ranch from him because of some agreement from over a hundred years ago, but what if it’s his guilt that makes him want to be with me?
I open the folder, eyes searching the scanned pages of what appears to be an agreement between my great-grandfather and Sully’s: the deal they made, how the land would be split up… I don’t know why they would have kept this proof, why they scanned the pages, but the hole inside me grows more and more as I keep flipping through them. Sully’s great-grandfather set his friend up, and my great-grandfather had gone to jail for it, all so he could steal his money to buy the ranch…
And they knew…at least Sully’s father does. I’m not sure for how long, but he knew and didn’t tell me…
The world spins. I bend over, the food from last night leaving my gut and hitting the dirt.
I hear doors open around me, Wade coming out of the bunkhouse. “What’s going on?” Wade asks. “Port…are you okay?”
I shove the paperwork at him, and he takes it. “It was a lie. Everything was a fucking lie.”
Then I head for my truck and peel away.
Chapter 31
Bishop
Even though Porter’s side of the bed is nearly cold, I wake up with the biggest smile on my face. Instead of nerves clenching my gut, this time it’s excitement. I’m so tired of hiding this side of me from my parents, and owning my truth is way past due. Besides, it’s what Porter deserves—for me to be open about how I feel about him, how proud I am to be with him.
We found our way back to each other, and never in my wildest dreams would I have guessed that we could have anything again after he left and then returned with a huge chip on his shoulder.
But I was able to grind away at it, and through all the aches and pains, he finally let me in. No way I want something to come between us ever again.
After getting dressed, I slip into boots and grab my hat for the day ahead with the cattle. Instead of eating breakfast with my parents, I grab something quick on the way out, all fired up to get moving.
“I was hoping we could talk later,” I tell my parents. “Maybe after dinner?”
“That sounds good.” Dad throws Mom a sidelong glance over the top of his newspaper. “We have some things to square away with you too.”
