Page 9

REBECCA

First place in the People’s Choice competition... Rebecca Cooper!”

The crowd erupts as Polly Williamson announces my name from the main stage, but the roar seems distant, muffled by the pounding of blood in my ears. My legs shake as I make my way up the steps, Amos’ proud smile from the front row giving me strength.

“And first place in our Juried Competition for Bean-Based Chili...Rebecca Cooper!”

This time, the cheers nearly knock me over.

Both competitions. I’ve won both competitions.

The trophies feel impossibly heavy in my hands as I stare out at the crowd, thinking of Grandpa, wishing he could see this moment.

Tears of happiness and pride fill my eyes, and love for Amos overwhelms me when I look at him, seeing the same intensity reflected in his gaze.

“Congratulations!” Polly beams as she hands me a second trophy and an oversized check.

I can barely process her words through the euphoria flooding my system.

Everything I dreamed of is happening all at once.

Some of the people here have been participating in chili competitions for decades…

and I won. My mind is in overdrive as I process this, that newbie me and my grandpa’s recipe swept the competition. I can’t wait to tell my family!

I’m making my way back to Amos when a man in a crisp suit and a silver bolero tie approaches me, business card already extended.

Behind him stand two other representatives from companies I recognize from the fair’s sponsor list. “Ms. Cooper, I’m Oscar Greenfield from Smithtown Distribution.

I’m very impressed with you and your chili.

Smithtown would love to discuss putting your recipe into commercial production. ”

“You want to produce my grandfather’s recipe?” The words come out breathless, disbelieving.

“We believe there’s a significant market for genuine, family-based products. Your story, combined with the incredible flavor profile, is a perfect fit for us. Take my card and give me a call when you’re home and settled. I look forward to talking with you.”

Two other men approach me, and by the time I leave the ceremony with Amos, I have three separate offers to take Grandpa’s chili to grocery stores across the country. The magazine feature will provide the credibility, but these contracts will make it a reality.

Amos stays at my side, his hand resting on the small of my back with possessive warmth. His pride radiates from every gesture, every look he gives me.

“I’m so proud of you,” he murmurs against my ear as photographers capture the moment. “Your grandfather would be over the moon.”

“I can’t believe this is real.” I lean into his solid warmth, grounding myself in his presence while my world spins with possibility.

“It’s real. You did this, Rebecca. You and that incredible recipe and the passion you put into every stir.”

The business cards feel substantial in my palm as I study the representatives still waiting patiently for my attention. Each one represents a different path forward, a different way to honor Grandpa’s legacy while building something sustainable for my future.

“What do you think?” I ask Amos quietly.

“I think you should talk to all of them. See what they’re offering, what they understand about preserving your grandpa’s recipe and legacy.” His thumb traces small circles on my back. “But Rebecca, whatever you decide, I’ll support you completely.”

The certainty in his voice makes my chest tight with emotion. This morning, we were navigating misunderstandings and hurt feelings, and I thought it was over. Now he’s talking about our future like it’s a given, like whatever paths I choose, he’ll be walking them beside me.

As the crowd begins to disperse, I stand in the middle of the fairgrounds holding trophies that represent everything I’ve worked toward. But looking at Amos beside me, his hazel eyes warm with pride and promise, I realize the greatest victory isn’t the competition results.

It’s finding the man who loves me, will go out of his way to support me, and vow to build a life together.

“Ready to celebrate?” Amos asks, his hand sliding down to capture mine.

“More than ready.”

As we walk back toward the hotel, trophies balanced in my free arm and business cards tucked safely in my pocket, I’m floating on cloud nine. Everything I wanted has fallen into place, but more than that, I have Amos at my side.

Amos kicks the hotel room door closed behind us and immediately pulls me into his arms with an urgency that quickens my pulse. His mouth finds mine in a kiss that takes my breath away.

“I couldn’t have done it without you.” I grab his shirt and pull him closer. “This whole thing started with you helping me with that stuck cart.”

“Best cart malfunction of my life.”

When he lifts me off my feet and spins me around, I laugh against his lips, giddy with success and overwhelming love for this man who’s changed everything about my future. The hotel room spins around us, but I know I’m safe in his arms.

“I love hearing you laugh like that.” He sets me down on the bed gently, his hands framing my face with loving tenderness. “Like you’re absolutely fearless.”

“You make me feel fearless.”

The words are true in ways that surprise me. A week ago, I was terrified of trusting again after the Kinwood Foods betrayal. Now I’m planning a future with a cowboy, two trophies, and multiple offers for distribution contracts.

“Rebecca.” The way he says my name, soft and wondering, makes heat pool low in my belly. “What we talked about this morning, about this being real—”

“It’s real.” I reach up to trace the line of his jaw, feeling the slight roughness of stubble against my fingertips.

His eyes darken with something deeper than desire. “I want to show you how real this is for me. How much you mean to me.”

When his mouth captures mine, heat spirals through my veins like liquid fire. His lips move against mine with deliberate slowness, each sweep of his tongue sending tremors through my core. The taste of him—coffee and something essentially masculine—makes me dizzy with want.

My fingers fumble with his shirt buttons, the small plastic discs slipping against my trembling fingers. When the cotton finally gives way, warm skin meets my palms. His heartbeat thunders beneath my fingertips, rapid and strong.

“So beautiful,” he murmurs, rough palms gliding beneath my blouse. Heat blooms everywhere he touches, his fingertips tracing fire along my ribs.

Cool air kisses my skin as he slides my shirt over my head. His sharp intake of breath makes my nipples tighten, awareness crackling between us like electricity.

His lips burn a path down my throat, each kiss sending shockwaves through my entire being. When his teeth graze that sensitive spot where neck meets shoulder, my back arches off the bed, a gasp tearing from my throat.

Gentle pressure guides me backward until soft cotton cradles my spine. Afternoon sunlight streams across my skin, warming everywhere his gaze lingers.

“You’re staring,” he says, and that crooked smile makes my heart skip.

“Can’t help it. You’re gorgeous.”

His cheeks flush at the compliment. Calloused fingertips map every curve as he undresses me slowly. Each caress burns deeper than the last, branding me with sensation I’ll carry forever.

“Tell me what you want,” he breathes against my ear, voice rough with restraint.

“You. All of you. Forever.”

Truth spills out before fear can stop it. Instead of retreating, he frames my face in warm palms, his hazel eyes blazing with fierce tenderness.

“Forever sounds perfect to me.”

Amos quickly undresses, then positions his body over mine. He bumps his thick cock against my slick, aching core, and I arch into him. He thrusts his cock into me, making me gasp as he fills me perfectly. He watches my face like I’m everything beautiful in this world.

“God, Rebecca.” His voice breaks, muscles trembling with control as he rocks his hips against mine, shuddering every time he plunges into me. “You feel incredible. Like coming home.”

Slow, deep thrusts steal my breath. Each withdrawal makes me ache, each return sends lightning through my nerves. His mouth captures mine, swallowing my desperate sounds.

“I love you.” The words tear from my throat as pleasure builds. “I love you so much.”

“I love you, too.” His mouth finds mine, and he kisses me deeply, his tongue filling my mouth and teasing mine.

Heat floods through me at his confession. I need more—more control, more connection. With gentle pressure against his chest, I coax him to his back. “I want to be on top.”

Straddling his hips sends him deeper inside me, the new angle making stars burst behind my closed eyes. His palms burn against my skin as I rock over his body, finding a rhythm that has us both gasping.

“Look at you,” he breathes, wonder rough in his voice. “You look absolutely glorious astride me.”

Power courses through my veins at the worship in his eyes. I roll my hips, and the strangled sound he makes sends liquid fire straight to my core. I already feel my orgasm building, and I pick up the pace of my hips.

“Buck me, cowboy,” I whisper, meeting his heated gaze with challenge and invitation.

His response is immediate. He places one hand on my hip and holds another out for me to use for balance.

I weave my fingers through his, pleasure and love surging through me.

He drives into me with an urgent rhythm as he thrusts his hips under me, bucking as I ride him, and I chase the pleasure for both of us.

“That’s it, Spice Queen. Show me what you got.”

The command, combined with the friction, the angle, the way he thrusts up hard and faster, nearly making me lose my balance, makes me cry out as my orgasm explodes.

Pleasure crashes through my body in waves that leave me crying his name, trembling against his chest as aftershocks pulse through my core.

He follows with a hoarse shout, his body going rigid beneath mine as his release claims him. We collapse together, hearts hammering, skin slick with satisfaction.

“That was—” Words fail as I trace circles on his chest, marveling at the solid warmth beneath my palm.

“The beginning of forever.” Soft lips brush mine, tasting like contentment.

“So what happens now?” The question dances through my mind like champagne bubbles.

His voice rumbles against my ear. “I want to meet your family for Sunday dinner. I want to help you build your business. I want to wake up beside you every morning for the rest of my life.”

“Think we can handle each other’s real spice?”

“Bring it on, Spice Queen.” His grin is pure male satisfaction. “I’m ready for whatever heat you’re serving.”

I see my future as I look at this man who chose me over everything else. Not the fantasy I might have imagined, but something better: a real partnership with someone who sees my dreams as worth fighting for.

I love this man so much.

Thank you so much for reading “Buck Me, Cowboy” !