Total pages in book: 46
Estimated words: 44297 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 221(@200wpm)___ 177(@250wpm)___ 148(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 44297 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 221(@200wpm)___ 177(@250wpm)___ 148(@300wpm)
After a slow circle through the paddock, we lead Penny to a patch of soft shade beneath a wide, old cottonwood. I swing down with Caleb’s help, boots hitting the ground with a satisfying thunk.
“You guys ready for lunch?” I ask, suddenly shy. “I made sandwiches and pie.”
“I’d eat dry toast if you made it,” Wade says, already spreading out the blanket.
We sit beneath the tree, Little C crawling between us, trying to sneak bites from everyone’s plates and squirting his juice box in Wade’s eye. Caleb helps me unlace my boots while Wade pulls me into his lap, sandwich forgotten as he presses a kiss to the side of my neck.
“Happy?” he asks, like he ever needs to.
I look around at the golden grass, the sleepy horse grazing nearby, our son’s curly head bent over a crushed blueberry, the way Caleb watches me like I’m a miracle. Wade’s at my back, his love as solid and reliable as his body.
There’s no hesitation in me when I answer.
“More than I ever knew I could be.”
Epilogue
Joelle
The house smells like birthday cake and warm cider. Balloons brighten the corners, flanking colorful banners. My son, our son, as Wade and Caleb now call him, turned two today, and he was spoiled rotten.
Little C is curled in Wade’s lap, his chubby fingers clinging to the pages of a picture book as Wade reads in his slow, steady voice that could soothe the growl out of a thunderstorm. Caleb watches from across the room, a gentle smile playing across his lips. Sometimes, I catch him looking at his gruff brother, who has softened over the past year, with so much love it takes my breath away. Their bond is strong. Stronger since I arrived on the ranch, worn down and desperate, and found two men who needed love as much as I did.
Janey sits beside me at the table, cupping a mug of tea in both hands. She’s been so supportive of my new relationship, despite the unusual circumstances. She’s still confused by our arrangement, and I’ve learned to dodge the pointed questions and let her guess at whatever she thinks happens behind our bedroom door. Yesterday, she joked that she wouldn’t mind two handsome, rugged cowboys spoiling her rotten, and I told her to stick around; we’ve got more single men on this ridge than she realizes, and at least two of them turn into bashful idiots whenever she walks past.
“This cake is so good,” Rick says around a mouthful.
“Thanks,” I smile.
Eli grins with telltale wickedness. “No wonder Wade and Caleb have put on weight since you arrived.”
I flush, wondering if it’s the cake or all the breast milk they’ve been enjoying. They have bulked up, packing on muscle in all the right places. Just thinking about their work-hardened bodies makes my pussy squeeze, and a slow pulse of heat spreads through my body.
A gust of cool air sweeps in when the door opens. Two broad silhouettes fill the doorway, boots and hats dusty, shoulders wide enough to block the light behind them. Their strides shake the floorboards. The Fletcher cousins, Mason and Brookes, stride in with the kind of easy swagger that runs in their bloodline. Mason’s tall and sandy-haired with a jaw square enough to cut lumber. Brookes is darker, with tousled curls and smirking eyes that scream trouble. They greet Caleb with a back slap that sounds like someone chopping wood, nodding to Wade, who continues to focus on Little C’s bedtime story.
“Sorry we’re late,” Mason drawls. “Someone took forever pickin’ out the right shirt.”
“That someone was you,” Brookes deadpans.
“Damn right. We spend all day covered in grime and sweat. A cowboy has to look good at social functions.”
“We appreciate your effort,” Caleb says. My gaze flicks to Janey, whose jaw has fallen at the sight of the Fletchers.
“We heard somethin’ about cake and beer.” Brookes drops his hat onto the counter and swipes his hand through his messy curls. They’re so much like Caleb and Wade that it takes my breath away.
“There are crumbs left if you’re fast,” Caleb says, spooning in a huge mouthful and grinning.
“Don’t listen to him,” I say, lifting the cake dome. “There’s plenty left.”
Except neither man is looking at the cake. Both sets of hungry eyes are lasered onto Janey. She stiffens like she’s been caught doing something scandalous and sets her tea down with careful, exaggerated calm. Then, without moving her head, she darts me the sharpest look—a clear don’t you dare encourage whatever this is. I smile as I cut two large slices because I know a plot twist when I see one.
Mason’s already strolling closer, leaning one hip against the counter like it’s a bar in some dim saloon. “Ma’am,” he says to Janey, voice smooth as honeyed bourbon. “You always smell this good, or you put on somethin’ special for tonight?”