Page 117 of Ride Me Cowboy

I stare at him, my heart expanding, my pulse rushing.

“I love you,” I say, simply, because what else is there?

His eyes sweep shut, and his body half-shudders as those words land against him.

“Thank God, Beth. You have no idea how much I’ve been hoping?—,”

I make a sound. “Really? You think you have a monopoly on that? I’ve spent the last three weeks hoping when I knew there was none, wishing, wanting, and then you showed up today…”

“You told me you didn’t love me,” he reminds me.

My cheeks flush with color. “I couldn’t bear to be something you felt bad about. I thought you came out of guilt. Because you have to fix people, and you were worried you’d broken me. I just wanted to liberate you from that, that’s all.”

“Well,” he says, lifting his hands to my cheeks now, in that way he has, like he has to hold me to make sure I’m really there. “It was possibly the worst three minutes of my life.”

A choked sound escapes from my throat. “I didn’t mean for it to be that way.”

“I know, honey. I know. You’re way too good for me.”

“Probably,” I say with a wink, and a watery smile. “But I’m afraid you’re stuck with me, anyways. Verbal contracts are binding, you know.”

And then, he kisses me, and I know it’s the first kiss of the rest of our lives, and I am powerless to do anything but stand there and be kissed by him, to kiss him back, knowing that against all odds, we made it here.

We decide to drive home, and we do it nice and slow. It takes us almost two weeks, because neither of us wants to rush it. This is time for us. To talk, and be together, to get used to what we are as a couple, before we get absorbed by the Donovans and become a part of that family.

We talk about everything, from the success of the social media accounts to how much Austin loved the wine collection. He tells me how his family reacted to the news of the ranch’s financial difficulties, and that I was right (I’ll never get tired of hearing that, though). He talks about Beau, and how he came back, just for the meeting, but that he’s as determined as ever to stick with bull riding. We drive for thirty-six hours over twelve days, and we never run out of things to say to one another, of thoughts to share. We laugh, a lot.

So, by the time he turns the car up the drive of the ranch, we are not just a couple, but a partnership. A team. In every way on the same page, working toward the same thing.

I’m glad we took all that time together, on the drive out here, because the second Cole cuts the engine, Mack comes hurtling out of the house, sprinting to the car and wrapping me up in a huge, fat hug, making a sound that’s almost animalistic.

“Thank God, you’re back,” she grins, then jumps with excitement. “I can’t believe how much this buffoon nearly stuffed it all up.”

Cole throws her a look but then lifts his broad shoulders, like he totally agrees. “It doesn’t matter if you make a mistake,” he says, “It’s just how you fix it.”

And he fixed it real good, believe me. My skin feels warm as I remember how we’ve spent the last twelve nights. I throw him a look and can tell he’s on the same wavelength as me.

“Well, there y’all are,” Cass says, walking out in faded jeans and a singlet top. “Took your damn time getting home, didn’t you?” But she beelines to us and gives me a hug. Austin and Caleb are next.

Nash is back in Phoenix, Mack tells me, with a hint of a blush, as we start to walk toward the house, leaving the brothers and Caleb to grab out our luggage.

Well, mostly mine. Cole travels really light—you will not be surprised to hear. I have brought a couple of big bags, including a heap of my designer shoes and clothes for Cass, if she wants them. They’re beautiful, but I don’t need them anymore. They’re part of my old life, and I’m never going back.

The rest of my stuff is being brought over by movers.

I didn’t keep much, but there are a few things that used to be my mom’s, and some things the McMahons were determinedI ought to have. Not to mention the trust fund that they have insisted I keep in my name, even when I seriously doubt I’ll ever touch it. I know it’s guilt money, but right now, the kindest thing I can do is just let it go. They feel better thinking I’ve got it, and I’m okay with that.

We’ve been home a couple of hours, catching up on everyone’s news, when Caleb points to the clock.

“Beau’s at a rodeo in Ledgerton tonight. Thought it was about time we popped your cherry,” Austin says with a wink.

“What do you say, City Girl?”

“I say, yeehaw,” I drawl, in my best attempt at a cowgirl accent, and they all laugh, or shake their heads, at my pathetic attempt. “Oh, well, I’ll work on it.”

“Well, you’ve got a lifetime to get it right, City Girl.”

“And I’ve got the perfect person to help me with that.”

With everything.

My partner, my love, and the happiness I deserve.

THE END