Page 31 of Wildest Forever

I had no idea on what to expect, we would be living with each other as strangers but tied legally together as husband and wife.

Apprehension pricks at the base of my neck and nerves swarm in my belly as I tighten the rein and kick my mare on, picking up into a canter as her hooves hit the hard ground. I lean forward, my hands up her neck, the warm summer's breeze tangling in my hair. He was always going to beat me to the house, but I gave it a good go.

Slowing my gray palomino quarter horse, I halt as I look down at him, his eyes brightening when he meets my gaze and I give him a hint of a smile.

“Well, hello wife,” he teases, sun in his eyes, skin crinkling at the side as he places his hand over his eyes trying to shield it. White tee wrapped around his toned torso, light denim jeans and a backwards cap.

“Hello,” my tone is curt, and I twist my lips to try and hide the smirk that wants to present itself.

“Busy?” he tries to make small talk.

“Always,” my hands rest on the pommel of the saddle, reins loose as Barley drops her head. Pacey's hand is out immediately, her pink nose burying in his hand as she sniffs him out before nudging her way to nuzzle into his chest. His hand runs down her nose as he steps to the side so she can see him.

“She's pretty,” his eyes lift from Barley and are back on mine.

“She is,” I nod, my lips twisting into a smile.

“Do you want to show me where to unpack? Don't want to just go wandering around your home looking for a room.”

“Sure,” I lean forward and swing my leg over Barley's back, both feet hitting the floor as I scoop her reins into my hands and lead her towards the water feeder, tying her up loosely.

“Do you need a hand out on the ranch?” he offers as I walk towards the porch, the step creaking.

“Mind that,” I say just as he steps on and his step falters.

“I'll get that fixed,” he looks below his feet at the now snapped wood.

I ignore him, pushing the latch of the handle down and move into the house, holding the door for Pacey to follow.

He doesn't deserve to look as good as he does.

His eyes scope the boxed hallway as he lets the door close softly into its frame.

“Where's your grandad?”

I look at the time then back at Pacey.

“Napping most likely,” I lower my voice as I look in the direction of the living room before I begin climbing the stairs and I hear the sound of his foot on the bottom one as he follows me.

Turning up the small hallway on the stairs, I continue forward.

“This is your room,” I roll my lips as I twist the old round doorknob and push into it with force as it opens. “Door’s a bit stiff, the old wooden frames swell in the heat,” I shrug my shoulders up before stepping into the room.

I wish I could calm the nerves in my stomach and the way my heart races in my chest.

Anxiety pricks at the base of my neck, and I really do hope that this is smooth sailing because I have no idea how to deal with him.

This is all new to me.

But instead of letting him into my heart, I throw my walls up and guard it off.

PACEY

I take one look in the room and my lip curls in distaste.

The bed is covered in a thick, cotton dust sheet, the walls chipped and marked. My eyes scope around the boxed bedroom slowly and I sigh.

Mold creeps into the corners, the windows nailed shut. The hardwood floors in desperate need of treatment, the room has a musty smell to it, and I can't stop my expression.

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