Nolan didn’t know who his dad was, so getting revenge on him would be impossible.
But Cody had no issue with Nolan getting a little hit of paternal rage out by proxy.
“He would hate it just because we changed it.” Cody looked at the back wall of the barn, still full of tables, and evidence that people had been here, enjoying the food, enjoying their evening. “Because anything he gave us we should’ve been happy to take just as it was, keep it as a memorial to him. The Painted Ridge Ranch doesn’t belong to David Reynolds. It belongs to us. Our names are on the papers, our mother’s last name, this is our legacy. Her legacy. Fuck him.”
“Fuck him,” Nolan agreed, lifting his beer bottle.
“Fuck him!” everyone said, and they clanked their beer bottles together, even Zane, and took a long drink.
Cody was the last one in the barn. He couldn’t bring himself to leave.
Couldn’t bring himself to walk away from the night.
Because something in him just wasn’t satisfied.
It didn’t feel like the right time to go.
Marlowe.
She had been missing tonight, in the beer circle. That didn’t make any sense. She wasn’t part of the core group. And yet, she was running the resort, so it felt like she should’ve been.
But she wasn’t, because of him.
Because of the way things had gone with the two of them.
He should go and talk to her.
Tension curled tight in his stomach. He knew that if he went and talked to her, it wouldn’t be just to talk.
Luckily, you messed things up with her so badly she wouldn’t want to touch you.
Unless she did.
Unless…
When have you ever done anything for yourself?
That was a shitty thing to think about another human being. That she could befor him.
He wanted that, though, right now, whether it was shitty or not.
He wanted it badly.
He wanted her to be his.
Just for a little bit. It didn’t have to be anything too deep. Didn’t have to be anything forever.
His brother was right. This was the culmination of a whole lot of hard work. Couldn’t they do this? Just for a little while.
Before he could talk himself out of it, he got into his truck and started to drive toward the hotel.
This was stupid, and he should text her. At the very least, rather than just showing up without warning.
This was…
He could remember sneaking away to have sex when he was in high school, but it had been about the sex. It hadn’t been about whatever person was waiting for him. He was ashamed to think about that now.
He had been getting something from it. Temporary, momentary sensations of being good enough. Good enough for a ride, anyway, even if he wasn’t good enough to be seen in public with.
