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“But it is really, really cute.” I give her hand a gentle squeeze. “I think you’re gonna like it.”

Her grin broadens into a smile. “I think I’m gonna love it. Mostly because I love you.”

“I love you more.” I point at the sun tattoo on my own forearm. “I win that contest too.”

Sally bites her lip, a soft look coming over her face. “Can’t believe it took me so long to put two and two together.”

“But you did. And now look at you. You got my ring on your finger and my tattoo on your arm.”

“Ourtattoo. I brought the Coke?—”

“And I brought the Jack.” I chuckle. “Fair point.”

Looking at my fiancée in the artist’s chair, I’m struck by how fucking gorgeous she is. Her long, dark hair is fanned out around her head, and her full lips are pulled into that pretty smile of hers. Getting tattooed definitely doesn’t feel great, but she’s being incredibly brave—she hasn’t complained once.

I still can’t believe Sally Powell is getting atattoo. One inspired by our relationship. One that I have inked on my skin too.

Yet another pinch-me moment. I keep having those lately now that Sally and I are together. We’regetting married.

When we sat down last week with Patsy and John B to start planning the wedding, I legit started to cry I was so happy. That made everybody else cry, and then we were all hugging and laughing, joking that we’d have to have the reception in the Wallaces’ new arena because everyone and their mother was gonna want to attend the wedding.

Ava officially extended a job offer to Sally not long after they first spoke about it. Sally of course immediately accepted it. The title is head of veterinary programs, but Ava is letting Sally decide what that entails. So far, Sally’s enjoyed exploring her interests while caring for the Wallaces’ stable of racehorses. She’s happy, so I’m happy too.

As for me, I’m enjoying my role as foreman at Lucky River Ranch more than ever. I think opening up—being honest—has led me to shed my class-clown persona. I don’t have to wear a mask or pretend to be someone I’m not, and becauseI’m finally able to take myself seriously, I think other people do too. My brothers included.

Go figure—it feels really fucking good to let your guard down every once in a while.

Feels really fucking good to turn to your fiancée and say, “After this, dinner andForensic Filesat home?”

Sally moved in with me the day after I proposed. I love having her at the house. Love the little routine we’ve settled into as a couple.

Most of all, I love waking up next to her every day. Didn’t think happiness this big, this overwhelming, existed. But here we are.

“I love that idea, yeah,” Sally replies.

The artist finishes the piece, then gives Sally instructions for how to care for her new ink. She stands in front of the full-length mirror beside the chair and smiles as she turns her arm this way and that, admiring the tattoo that matches mine.

Sidling up behind her, I drape my arms across her torso and murmur into her neck, “You love it?”

“I love it.”

“Home?”

“Yeah.” She turns her head to nudge my jaw with her nose. “Home.”

Back at the house, I help Sally out of her jacket, then shoulder out of mine. Sally watches me, a hot gleam in her eyes that I’ve come to know well. Awareness gathers between my legs as I hang my jacket on the rack beside the door, then take off my hat.

“Keep that on.” My fiancée licks her lips. “Okay, change of plans. We’re skippingForensic Filesand playing poker instead.”

I smirk. “Poker? Really?”

“A special kind of poker.” Sally grabs my hand. “The kind I’d only play with you.”

I let her pull me into the kitchen. “I’m interested.”

“Thought you might be.”

Grabbing a deck of cards from the junk drawer by the door, I toss them onto the kitchen table. “What are the rules?”