Still, he hasn’t gotten used to my new sex drive. I can’t count the number of times I have jumped him since I found out I was carrying his kid.
“Behave,” he hisses at me.
“You spoil all my fun,” I jest.
Before he can retort, there is a knock at the door.
“I’ll get it,” I tell him, blowing him a kiss as I leave.
When I get to the door, I’m surprised to find Mr. Cohen standing there.
“Hey. Come in.” I gesture him in, looking down at the oversized T-shirt I stole from Ridge. “Um…let me go get changed. Ridge is in the kitchen.”
I scurry down the hall, switching out my sleep shorts for leggings. Then I pull my hair up so it doesn’t look so messy.
When I get back to the kitchen, Mr. Cohen has a mug of coffee while he and Ridge chat at the table.
“Eat.” Ridge points at my plate in the spot I was sitting.
“You don’t get to tell me what to do,” I sass him.
He gives me a look that tells me my ass might not like that response later.
Wisely, I sit down and eat. I was only joking anyway. This baby has been demanding food since the very first whiff of bacon.
“Mrs. Harris, I came to check in. Your father had some very specific instructions for when you hit two years,” he tells me.
“Of course he did.” I roll my eyes, but there’s a smile on my face.
So much has changed since the first time I met this man. Back then, I was angry. I would have burned the world down to get away from this place.
Now, there is nowhere I would rather be.
“So, first, how are things going between you two?” he asks.
“We are happily married,” Ridge answers for me as I start to eat my food.
We haven’t told anyone about the baby yet, so I am grateful he didn’t disclose that information.
“That’s good to hear. So no separation?” he asks.
I look over at Ridge. “No. We will stay married.”
“Good. All the provisions have been met then. Your father’s trust is now solely in your name. You can do with it as you please. The house is also yours, so if you wish to sell it, now you are able. The bike has already been transferred into Ridge’s name. He also left these letters for you both.” The man slides a letter to each of us. “Do you have any other questions for me?”
I shake my head as I look at the envelope with my father’s handwriting sitting in front of me.
“No. We are good,” I tell him, not able to take my eyes from the paper.
“I’ll get the paperwork submitted and send you copies via courier. If you ever have any questions, I’m here. If you need to make any changes to the trust, call me. I will help you do it. I’m glad to see you both happy. Mustang would have loved it.”
Without another word, he shows himself out.
I look over to Ridge and see him frozen as well.
“You didn’t know?” I ask.
He shakes his head. He has unshed tears in his own eyes as he holds the letter in his hand.