Total pages in book: 27
Estimated words: 24601 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 123(@200wpm)___ 98(@250wpm)___ 82(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 24601 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 123(@200wpm)___ 98(@250wpm)___ 82(@300wpm)
He just chuckles, nudging me again. "We aren't getting married right now. We're going to watch that prick get dragged out of his bed in cuffs."
That gets my attention.
I drag the pillow down, meeting his gaze in the lamplight. "He's getting arrested today?"
"Yeah. Dillon called last night. They're raiding his place in about an hour." Blaze brushes hair away from my face. "He said you can watch if you want."
"Really?"
"I might have badgered him into agreeing," he says, grinning at me. "Figured you might like to see it."
"I don't."
Blaze blinks at me.
"I just…" I shrug. "It was over for me when Dillon told me that I wasn't going to prison," I explain, my voice soft. "I don't need to see him get dragged out in handcuffs. I don't need to see him get hauled away to jail. I don't ever need to see him again. I just need to be right here with you. That's where I belong, Blaze."
I could spend a lifetime reveling in petty revenge and justice served, but it'd be a life wasted because watching Roger Burkett go down for his crimes isn't what feeds my soul. It isn't what makes me happy, either. This wild, beautiful, incredible cowboy does that.
"You're what I need," I whisper. "Just you."
"Jesus," Blaze rasps, crawling over me until I'm pinned beneath him, his body crushing mine into the blankets. "Jesus, Calamity." He buries his face in my throat, breathing me in. "I'm never going to get used to loving you this much, you know that?"
"Good." I smile, running my fingers through his long hair. "Because I don't intend to settle down long enough for you to get used to it. I'm going to spend my whole life keeping you on your toes."
His body shudders on top of mine, his rough chuckle pelting my skin. "You damn well better, Calamity. You damn well better."
Epilogue
Blaze
Four Years Later
It's a sad day when a cowboy realizes his own damn horse has betrayed him…but here we are. Jon Bon Pony couldn't give two shits about me. He's all about my pretty little wife and the squealing, wild little girl in her arms.
"Pony!" Jane squeals, flinging her arms around Jon's neck as the bastard preens, stomping like he just won a race.
"You're our favorite horse, Jon," Morgan says, scratching his ears.
"Hee-haw!" Horace screams indignantly, earning peals of laughter from Morgan and Jane.
"You're our favorite too, Horace," Morgan coos at the donkey, turning to scratch his ears.
I shake my head, unable to hide my grin as I watch from a few feet away—close enough to intervene if they need me, but far enough to give them a little space to be their wild, beautiful selves.
I thought God gave me everything when he brought Morgan into my life. I was wrong. He gave it to me twice when Jane came kicking and screaming her way into the world, just as loud and bright as her mama.
One day—far sooner than I like to think about—she's going to be hell on wheels just like Morgan. She's going to turn the world upside down and inside out. I dread that day already. But for now, she's a tiny, perfect replica of her mom.
And I'm so goddamn desperate to add a boy to this family, it's not even funny. I need one, just to help me contain these two. God knows, a ranch full of cowboys isn't enough. Morgan has been turning this place on its head for the last four years. Now, she has Jane to help her do it.
I'm not going to survive the two of them without reinforcements. I'm already going gray.
If the baby in Morgan's belly isn't a boy, I'm fucked.
"Daddy!" Jane shrieks, twisting in her mama's arms to look for me. "I wanna wide Pony."
"You do, huh?" I stride forward, tapping her on the nose. "I think I can make that happen, princess."
"Can Mama wide wif me?"
Morgan and I share a look over her head. We haven't told her that Morgan is pregnant yet. We're waiting until she's a little further along to share the news. Otherwise, the next seven months will be an endless barrage of questions. I'm not old enough to explain to my three-year-old daughter how her sibling ended up in her mother's belly. I'm just not.
"Not today, baby," Morgan murmurs, rubbing her back. "I'd rather watch you and your daddy ride."
Jane pouts for half a second before she's over it, flinging herself out of Morgan's arms into mine.
I set her on her feet and remind her to stay clear of Jon's legs as I saddle him up. Morgan pets him the entire time, completely unafraid now. Wade and Bishop helped with that. Even though she drank their asses under the table that night, they still showed up at dawn not long after I put a ring on her finger, determined to teach her to ride.