Defying Our Forever (The Baker’s Creek Billionaire Brothers Book 3)

by Claudia Burgoa

  “It was an oversight, and we made it,” Pierce glares at him, and I point at Arden before he starts yelling. He runs a hand through his hair, takes a deep breath, and says, “This is the last time I’m going to repeat it. I can’t control my mother. It pains me more to know that I can’t trust her than it affects you. Secondly, I was focused on other tasks, including my departure from the firm. When I say we can’t hire help, believe me, it is with a heavy heart. I don’t enjoy cleaning toilets either.”

  Henry sighs and says, “Okay, she’s here.”

  “Who is here?” I frown.

  “Sophia,” Blaire answers and smiles at me. “She makes these men more manageable.”

  “Because you have trouble handling us?” Hayes arches an eyebrow and then pulls her into his arms.

  I cover Arden’s eyes and say, “Go and kiss somewhere else. There’s a baby here.”

  “You want me to take him?” Mills asks me.

  Hayes shakes his head and clears his throat. “Okay, everyone, I need your attention. Mills’s knee needs a lot of work, but I believe he can recover. However, I need you to be mindful of him. He can’t carry anything heavier than three pounds—that includes our little boy here. Try to keep him busy at The Lodge or Aldry’s Sweets. Just remember that he can’t be standing for a long time either.”

  “So, in other words, he’s crippled until you say so, and we have to serve him?” Pierce takes a shot at Mills.

  They’ve been insulting each other since yesterday. I’d be surprised if I haven’t seen them interact in the past. They just lash at each other like little children. I have so many questions about how they were raised. How those weeks where they had to get together happened in the first place? Why none of the adults tried to push them to be a family before?

  “Well, then I know where to place him,” I hear a female voice, and when I turn around, there’s a woman with dark hair that contrasts her white top, and the high heel boots she wears are super cute. “I prepared this for you during my flight. Blaire and Leyla discussed the house chores on Friday. I thought we needed a process, so I copied what Mom had for us while growing up.”

  She points toward the whiteboard Henry is carrying with him. She used thin tape to create a grid, and it already has the days of the week, the chores, and even a bunch of magnets with our names on them.

  When she spots me, she smiles and leans forward to hug me. “Sophia Aragon, it’s a pleasure to finally meet you. I have so many plans for us…wait until you hear me.” She grins at Blaire and says, “This is going to be epic.”

  “Leyla,” I answer and smile at her, overwhelmed by her familiarity.

  Blaire said she was lovely, and I’ve no doubt that it’s true, but I feel like I’m missing part of some old conversation. No, it’s more like there was an introductory class before the school year started, and they met, so I either catch up or I’m going to feel like the outsider of the group for the remainder of the school year.

  Unless I leave sooner.

  What is best for me? To leave or stay?

  It’s hard to answer while I have a little boy in my arms. He’s so perfect, just how I thought my son would look, and I’m split between wanting to be around him or avoiding him. In a way, we are what the other one doesn’t have.

  We spend about an hour deciding who gets to do what, and by the end, it appears that I’ve become Arden’s babysitter. Once the meeting is over and the baby is asleep, I take him to his crib. Mills stays behind with him while the rest of us go to the barn to introduce them to the kids and show them what needs to be cleaned regularly.

  We agreed that one of us would be with them during cleaning time while they learn. Pierce doesn’t look too convinced about letting anyone deal with the kids. He refused to let anybody but us feed them. I’m okay with the latter. When everyone leaves and it’s just Pierce and me with the kids, he says, “Are you still okay with this?”

  “What part specifically?” I ask, brushing Alistair.

  “They are a bunch of overwhelming assholes,” he explains. “They’ll be hanging out with the kids often. Then, there’s Arden.”

  “I offered to take care of him, didn’t I?”

  He nods and opens his mouth, then shuts it.

  “What is it?” I ask. “Just let it out, Pierce. It’s going to upset me more if you just bottle it up.”

  “He’s not your kid,” he says.

  “Thank you for reminding me that I’m childless,” I say, handing him the brush. “Make sure you finish Poppy too.”

  “You were doing it. Brushing them was your idea,” he calls after me.

  “Yes, but I can’t handle being in the same room as you,” I argue, unhooking the door of Ally's pen and grinning. “Have a fun evening.”

  “So, how did she escape again?” Sophia asks.

  We’re sitting on the porch bench, watching four of the brothers chase Ally around the land. Mills is by the barn waiting for her to run toward him so he can catch her. Good luck with that, buddy.

  In her mind, she’s screaming, you will never catch me alive.

  It was comical to hear Pierce yell, “Could someone close the main fucking gate? Ally is going to escape,” right as I was about to enter the house.

  “Next time, I hope they don’t close the gate in time,” I say, drinking from the glass of sangria we prepared. I can just imagine the commotion she’s going to create around town. “For now, let’s enjoy the show.”

  As I told them, this is going to take hours.

  Sophia arches an eyebrow and grins. “I like you,” she states. “No offense to your alpaca, but she seems a little feral.”

  “She’s not, but once she’s out in the wild, she hates to be put back in,” I answer, pouring more sangria in her glass. “I think it’s good bonding time for those guys. Brings them closer together.”

  “Let’s pretend you are the one who let her loose,” Blaire speculates. “Why would you have done it?”

  I sigh and answer, “The day we separated, I promised myself I’d make Pierce’s life as miserable as he made mine for two years. My life coach says it is the wrong approach to get closure. I call it a fun way to find a little satisfaction.”

  They both laugh, and Sophia even pulls out the camera to take some video of the guys trying to capture Ally.

  Pierce repeats, “Don’t get too close, and don’t look at her directly or she’s going to run away again. We almost have her.”

  Ally adores him, but she also likes to taunt him. When she gets just close enough to him and he says, “Come on, girl. Come to Dad,” she takes off.

  “You’d think that by the third time they’d have gotten the hang of it,” Sophia says.

  “It’d be easier if only a couple of them were there,” I whisper. “Just never tell them that.”

  “Only two people?” Blaire asks, confused.

  “She’s not used to that many guys. Of course, she’s scared,” I say, and spit the sangria when Henry and Beacon try to catch her simultaneously, and they both fall into the mud.

  “Got the money shot,” Sophia screams excitedly, waving the phone up in the air. “I’m going to pester him for a long time.”

  Blaire looks at her and then at me and shakes her head. “You two are dangerous. I’m not sure if it’s smart to put the two of you together.”

  I lift my glass and propose a toast, “To more days like today.”

  They clink my glass, and Blaire says, “To long friendships.”

  “And making these men drink a little of their own medicine,” Sophia concludes. “These next months are going to be exciting.”

  “You say that because you don’t have to live with us,” Blaire complains.

  “Best reality show I’ve ever watched,” Sophia comments.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Pierce

  “Did you at least enjoy yourself?” I ask Leyla as we walk the dogs around the lake.

  It’s past ten. Buster, Daisy, and I do these nightly walks w
hen they stay with me. We go along the trail that I made around the house. I’m trying to keep that tradition so they don’t get homesick. According to Leyla, they’re adjusting well. They’ve never had trouble with change. I guess she doesn't remember what happened to them last year.

  They were pretty sad when they moved out of the house.

  “Enjoy myself?” she repeats my words.

  The light from the moon is strong enough that I can see a smile playing on her lips.

  “It wasn’t funny,” I say, trying to fake anger, but I end up snorting. “How many times did Henry fall?”

  “Four,” she answers. “We almost made it into a drinking game. A tequila shot each time an Aldridge went down. Two if it was Henry.”

  “So, you drank more than two sips of wine,” I note, glancing at her. “You were a little tipsy.”

  “Therapy,” she says and sighs. “I’m no longer afraid that if I drink, I’m going to kill anyone…unless you piss me off. Then, I’m not responsible for my actions.”

  “Of course, there’s that part.” I come to a halt when Buster does, and I turn to look at her. “The words came out all wrong. The last thing I wanted was to hurt your feelings. We know what happens when you get attached and then you have to say goodbye. I worry about it, okay, and it drives me fucking insane that I can’t fix it.”

  She meets my eyes for the first time since I pissed her off and she let Ally loose.

  Blowing out a long breath, she says, “Now you want to fix me?”

  I scrub a hand across my face. This feels familiar but wrong. It’s usually her trying to speak and I’m picking words from our conversation, mixing them up, and getting upset at her. This is one of those moments when I should walk away because we’re both having trouble handling our emotions.

  “Leyla, if you’re not planning on listening and you’re just picking a fight, this conversation is over,” I warn her.

  She gives me a small pained smile. “Did we change roles?” Her voice is a little calmer.

  “Not necessarily,” I answer carefully. “I get it. I pushed you too much for so long that now, with almost any comment, I make you angry.”

  She taps her boot a couple of times, the kids stop sniffing, and we resume the walk. “I’m a pretty patient woman.”

  “Close to a saint,” I add. “If I were you, I’d have killed me and buried me in the backyard. No one would’ve found my body.”

  She laughs, “Your mom would’ve come to look for you within a day.”

  “Probably, but not for the reasons you think. Most likely because I have pending cases or—”

  “I’m sorry things are so bad between you two,” she says, squeezing my hand gently. “I know you’re close to her.”

  I give her a look. “I don’t think we were close. She managed a weird agenda that I followed because I only had one goal, to show my cousins I was better at everything. In other words, I let her manipulate me for years and didn’t realize what was happening until she fucked me over pretty bad.”

  Everything she does is only for her benefit. She demands that I make her happy, and when I don’t, she makes sure to screw with me.

  “The point of this conversation isn’t my mother,” I stop myself before I digress and this conversation heads to a darker direction than what it’s meant to be. “To answer your question, yes, I want to fix what I fucked up with you. At least the kids. The marriage and the fairy tale—we know, it’s impossible. I’m too broken to do it.”

  She shakes her head and says, “No, you just don’t know how to relate with others. Now that you’re away from the toxic influence, it might work for you. You’ll end up falling for one of the townies.”

  “You think there’s hope for me?”

  “Sure. You’re not that bad at all. If you need me to write a recommendation, I’ll do it,” she jokes. “Come on, let’s go back home.”

  We walk the rest of the way in silence. I wish I knew what she’s thinking about or if she’d even consider giving me a chance. She just said it. There’s hope for me.

  Maybe there’s hope for both of us.

  The first thing I do Monday morning is feed the kids. After having breakfast, I head to The Lodge to see my new office. I hate it. Hayes and Henry asked Easton to divide one of the conference rooms into two and make them offices. It’s small, ugly, and lacks natural light. My office used to face the Continental Divide. I had a gorgeous view, an assistant, and more exciting people to deal with than my brothers.

  If the restaurants were open, I’d say that there’s a bar I can visit if things become too strenuous. Henry closed all of them because he needs to bring them up to code. If anyone asks why I choked him, it’s his fault. Self-defense for the lack of alcohol to reduce the stress he induces.

  For the first couple of hours, I create a file for every request my brothers emailed me. They are pushing for more than thirty days out of this town after six months. Henry wants access to Dad’s money without having to explain to Mr. Parrish every little change he has to do to The Lodge, the factory, or any other business he owned. Hayes wants to live in his brand-new house when it’s finished. I roll my eyes at one of Beacon’s requests, for Henry to be his butler once a month.

  And you know what, I add it because I would pay to see that happen. I add one asking for Mills to serve me breakfast in bed every Saturday.

  It’s not even nine when Beacon enters my office and sits on the chair across from my desk.

  I cock an eyebrow and ask, “Yes?”

  “My band starts touring in just a few months,” he begins. “Though I’d love to be the first man to fly across the country in less than two hours, you and I know it’s impossible.”

  “Cancel,” I answer. “I’m not sure how it has to be done because I’m not part of the showbiz, but you have to move your dates to two years from now.”

  His smile falls, then his expression turns into anger. He cracks his knuckles. “I knew it. You’re not going to help me.”

  I set the pile of documents I’ve been working on this morning closer to him. His ridiculous request is on top. I say, “Look, everyone has something more important to do than to stay for what will feel like an eternity. It’s long, daunting, and we might kill each other. There are a few things I might be able to tweak to make this bearable—your request to tour is there, but I don’t think we will be able to get it done. We have to prioritize our requests.”

  He glares at me and says, “Prioritize mine.”

  I laugh. “We’re going to vote, so get those guys on your side and maybe they’ll put your request next to the one where we can at least travel to Portland and stay there overnight if there’s an emergency.”

  “My lawyer and agent will be calling you,” he says.

  “Is that a threat, or are you trying to tell me that they want to help me?”

  His gaze focuses on the papers, and then on me before he responds, “I guess they can give you a hand.”

  “This isn’t my fault, kid,” I explain. “The dates were an oversight that won’t happen again. I’m trying to do my best to get us out of this, but—”

  “Save the lecture,” he says. “I’m not a child anymore. Yes, I get it. This isn’t you. I have to be here because my father was an asshole. Or maybe we wouldn’t be in this mess if I hadn’t screwed it up for everyone.”

  “Why would you say that?”

  He shrugs. “Dad was caught when the paparazzi spotted him with me.”

  “It’s not your fault, Beacon. He lived a double life,” I remind him. “Lies are temporary. It was a matter of time before he screwed up.”

  He smiles. “Gramps once told me that maybe he screwed up on purpose. Have you ever wondered how your life would be if that moment where everything got fucked up never happened?”

  His question is loaded because how do I even know which moment we’re talking about? There are millions and millions of possibilities with every second we live.

  “You can’t change your past,�
�� I say before I get lost in an endless loop where Carter doesn’t die, and I choose Leyla over work. I’d stop all those times when I disappointed my wife or made her cry.

  “That doesn’t stop anyone from thinking about the past and how to learn from it, so you don’t fuck up your future,” he states. “The band is my family. They are my present and future. This tour is special to me. I can’t cancel. If you ever thought about gifting me something, give me this. I know you don’t care about my music, but it is everything to me.”

  “I care about you,” I inform him.

  “Right, you care so much that you were always there in the first row like you were when Mills would play in your hometown.” He sounds like a small child complaining about not getting a toy.

  I pull out my phone and search for the email that has the tickets for his next concert. “Here, this is one of many. We’ve watched you play in other cities.”

  He glances at the phone, then at me. Then he grins.

  “As I said, I’m putting this up for voting. Everyone will decide what I request first. I’ll try my best to get what you need, but if I don’t, it’s not because I don’t give a shit about you.” I tap the phone a couple of times. “You matter to me, but even though I am a good fucking lawyer, the shit our father pulled was class A assholeness that might be hard to fix.”

  He gives me a strange look and leaves.

  Around noon I’m done with what I needed to do and head to the house. I find Leyla in the barn with Arden. She is showing him the chicken coop. The kid points at the horses, and Leyla says, “Poppy.”

  She repeats, “Poppy.”

  Arden laughs, and she joins him.

  “You want to help me brush her?” she asks, and he laughs again.

  He’s a happy kid. We haven’t been here for long, but he’s adapting fast, and Leyla is helping him with the transition. She’s so good with him. And fuck if I don’t want to be part of that moment, but I also feel like I’m interrupting them. Instead of staring at them, wishing I hadn’t fucked up, I head to the main house. I find Vance yelling at Bennett Crawford, the guy who brought him on Saturday and only came out of Vance’s room a few times for water or food for them.