Page 24 of And Forever (The Riders and Rings Duology #2)

WILDER

EVERS RIDGE, MONTANA — LATE AUGUST

“ T his feels familiar,” Bex laughs as she finishes putting dinner together across the island in the main house’s kitchen. “Think it was about four months ago that you sat here on your first day.”

Her smile is broad, the fine lines at the corners of her eyes crinkling as it spreads across her face.

Just like I thought the day we met, I’ve learned Bex really does give her smiles freely.

Whether it's greeting new guests, talking with the rest of the employees, or checking in with the supply drivers, they shine bright and beautiful in their simplicity. But I’ve also learned that there are special smiles, the ones she reserves for the people closest to her: when Winona makes her laugh in the garden, when Mitch tucks her against his side, when she watches Charlotte ride.

These bloom from the inside out, making the jade of her eyes transform into something warmer.

I know the difference because I received the first kind on the day she’s talking about, but tonight, I see the one she saves for her family.

“Uh, yeah,” I manage around the thick realization sticking in my throat. Bex’s eyes pinch with concern before she reaches across the space and rubs my bicep .

“You okay, honey?”

Mitch wanders in, holding Winona like an airplane as she makes brrring sounds. “Daddy, Meehaw and me are flying! Happy, go higher!”

Her grandfather lifts her another couple of inches, and Winona wiggles her favorite lovey in dips and swoops, giggling when Mitch gives her a moment of free-fall before catching her.

Bex gasps and points a finger at her husband when he tries to look innocent.

Mitch shrugs his shoulders before “landing” my daughter on my lap.

I keep Winona on my knee as the family tucks in around the island, bowls of thick chili and cornbread filling us as much as the easy conversation. As the last scoops are spooned up and the crumbs fall from lips, I set Winona up in the living room with new episodes of Bluey and a sippy cup of milk.

In the kitchen, Bex and Mitch clean up with practiced ease, and I lean against the island with a tight chest. I want what’s before me. I want it so bad, I’m willing to have this hard conversation with them.

After Charlotte’s ride this morning, we spent the day really talking about what our future will look like now that she has a goal.

Charlotte made the short trek to Mitch’s workshop to let him know that she would be pursuing the rodeo season in the spring.

She told me the conversation was successful, with Mitch offering to ask Cooper to stay on in her role.

She knew her dad had more questions, but I asked her to let me talk to him, so she agreed to go to Ada’s for dinner.

“Best to spit it out, son.” Mitch’s voice pulls me from my nervous recollecting.

He’s drying his hands on a towel as he rests against the sink.

Bex places a kettle on the hob, heating water for tea, before rounding the space to sit on the stool closest to me.

She pats the open one between us, and I sink slowly into it, keeping an ear on the cartoon dogs and Winona’s chatter in the other room .

“Charlotte and Winona are coming to live with me while she prepares for the season.”

“And?” Bex prompts. I look at her wide, hopeful eyes before I flick my gaze to Mitch. He sets the towel over the side of the farmhouse sink and crosses his arms loosely across his broad chest.

“And what?” My eyebrows pinch together, confusion rocketing through me. I’ve just told them their daughter and granddaughter will be moving a state away, but their reactions have me rethinking if this is as big of a deal as I built it up to be in my mind.

“Told you it wasn’t going to be that conversation.” Mitch chuckles, and now my brows shoot to my hairline when my brain catches up.

“Oh!” I hold up my hands. “I love your daughter, and I don’t ever want to be without her again, but I’m not asking you to let me marry her. I think she’d kill me if I did.” I let out a heavy sigh. “No offense.”

“Like that girl ever got permission for anything she really wanted,” Bex laughs, her eyes shifting in the direction of the barn. I smile and a little tension leaves me when Mitch joins us at the island, a smile of his own across his lips.

“We’re not standing in her way this time.” He rests a hand on his wife’s shoulder and gives it a squeeze. “You helped Charlotte regain part of herself. If you continue to support and love her and Winona more than anything else, I’ll help y’all pack.”

“About that.” I swallow hard. It doesn’t feel like I’m in any position to demand things, even if Charlotte's parents are supportive of us, but I’m about to. “She would never bring it up—never ask—but I will.”

Bex and Mitch glance at each other and wait for me to continue.

“You need to be there,” I tell them, my voice brokering no room for protest. “If Charlotte races again, it needs to be with your support. In person. ”

Regret and shame flash across their faces, and both begin nodding before I’ve even finished my demand.

I’ve considered this part of our conversation all afternoon, terrified I could ruin the rest of my life before it really begins.

But all it took was remembering the way Charlotte’s eyes would fog just a little every time she talked about her parents on the road.

How her voice would close off with repressed bitterness when she told me they wouldn’t be at that weekend’s events.

I won’t let her start this over again with the same mistakes haunting her every step. It won’t be possible for me to go to every rodeo as I work through my PTSD and take care of Winona. Charlotte’s going to need a support system. She deserves it.

“You’re right.” Mitch clears his throat, and for the first time, I see Bex force a smile. “We can’t make up for the past, but we can be there in the future.”

It’s nearing midnight when I feel the sheets shift and the bed dip next to me. I’m not fully asleep, so I roll to the middle and wrap my arms around Charlotte’s soft body. “How was dinner with Ada?” I ask into the back of her neck.

“Good. Kind of sad. But good.” Charlotte laces her fingers through mine, scooting back until her ass is pressed against me. The shape and warmth are enough to make my cock jerk in the gray sweatpants I threw on after my shower. And I can’t resist a little grind against her. “Really?”

“Sorry,” I grumble in apology. “Just happens around you.”

I go to draw my hips back, to give her room, but Charlotte reaches and holds me in place. “S’okay,” she says around a yawn. “I like feeling you.”

At that invitation, I move toward her and give a shallow thrust to punctuate my arrival.

We both groan, and I shift my hand from her waist to underneath the shirt she’s wearing, a deep pride igniting in my veins when I realize it's one of mine.

My fingers skate up her stomach to the velvety skin on the underside of her breast. I keep my touch teasing and light as I trace a fingertip back and forth.

Charlotte sighs and arches her back, begging for more, then settles when I cup the full weight of her in my hand, holding and kneading gently.

“Things with my parents go all right?” The question comes out a little breathy, and I’m honestly surprised she has the capacity to ask it, when all I’m thinking is if she would be okay with me slipping my rapidly hardening cock between her thighs.

I stop working her supple tit and sigh into the crook of her neck.

“They thought I was going to ask them if I could marry you,” I tell her, and barely manage to protect myself when she whips around on the bed, eyes wide in surprise.

“What?!” Charlotte’s voice is shrill enough to make my eyes squint even if she remembers to whisper-yell.

Dramatically, I rub a finger in my ear like I’m attempting to ease the ringing.

She slaps at my shoulder, but I just gather her close against me, running my hand from her waist to behind her knee.

I hitch her leg over mine and kiss her forehead.

“One day, baby—when you tell me you want to—I’ll ask that question, and I won’t need your parents’ permission to do it.” Charlotte sighs with relief, sinking into my touch as I rub the outside of her thigh. “You’ve always done what you want, how you want. My strong, independent, fearless woman.”

“It’s a ridiculous tradition. One I’m going to make sure Winona knows does not apply to her.” She snakes her arm along my waist, her hand on my bare back warm and a little rough. Just like her.

“Like mother, like daughter,” I muse. Charlotte gives a little hmph of agreement, and we lapse into comfortable silence.

“They were supportive, however,” I venture back into the discussion, “of the Idaho move.” Her head bobs, so I go on, “I had to agree we’d be back at Christmas. They’re excited for us.”

“Ada says I’m riding off into the sunset with you.

” Charlotte’s voice is tinged with a dreamy quality that seeps into my skin, hope for our future burning bright when she leans back to look at me.

I can’t make out her features in the dark, but it doesn’t matter; I feel the love emanating from her with every inhale.

“Ready for more than eight seconds with me, Charlie?” I brush my lips against her, whispering our old promises in the small space between us.

“Depends on how long you’re thinking of, Cowboy.” Her tongue flicks out to wet my bottom lip, making me grip her thigh tighter.

“Forever.”