Page 51 of Fixing to be Mine (Valentine Texas #5)

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

STORMY

TWO WEEKS LATER

T he shelter looks like I remember—flowers in planters, a faded sign that reads Valentine Animal Rescue , and a corkboard full of animals who still need to be adopted.

I park my Bronco out front and sit for a moment with my hands on the wheel, staring at the front door like it might shift into something else if I blink.

It doesn’t.

Inside, the air is cooler than expected and smells exactly how I remember, like a vanilla candle and old kibble. Ember waves at me from behind the desk.

“You’re here for Boots, aren’t you?” She stands up and nearly cries. “Thank you! I was hoping I’d be here when he finally got adopted. This makes my whole year!”

I smile wide. “Today is the day.”

Ember stands and grabs the paperwork. All it takes is a few signatures, and it’s a done deal.

A minute later, Boots runs toward me with his nub of a tail wagging. I bend down and hug him.

“Boots,” I say. “Time to go home, buddy.”

“Your house and all that land is gonna be perfect for him. He loves to run,” she says, coming around the counter to put a bow on his neck. She gives him a tight squeeze, then looks up at me.

“You think I need a leash?” I ask.

“No, he listens,” she says. “Just open the door of your vehicle, and he’ll hop in. He’s a cattle dog. He knows his place.”

Before I go, I pay my clinic fee along with a one-hundred-thousand-dollar donation. Ember looks at the check, and her brows furrow.

“Uh, Stormy, you made a mistake. It was one hundred dollars.”

“I know,” I say. “I’m making a donation.”

Her mouth falls open, and she tries to call someone from the back to come up front as I walk out of the clinic, chuckling. I open the door to the Bronco, and Boots hops inside, like Ember said.

I pet his head. “Good dog.”

I roll down the window for him on the ride home, and his tongue hangs out the entire time. He moves from the window, back to me for a few licks, then returns, barking at horses grazing.

When I pull down the long road leading to the farmhouse, the gravel crunches under the Bronco’s tires. Boots shifts in the front seat like he knows we’re home. He’s already memorized the route—sat up straighter when we passed the feed store, perked his ears when we rounded the bend.

The porch comes into view, freshly painted and framed with the new railing Colt finished last week.

The house looks different now—solid, finished in ways it hadn’t been when I first showed up here with nothing but a trunk full of secrets and a duffel bag of clothes.

The entire bottom floor is done. Floors sealed.

Kitchen tiled. Trim installed. And at this pace, we’ll have the second floor completed by Christmas.

I smile to myself, feeling the warmth of that word again. We .

Boots lets out a low, excited whine as I shift the Bronco into park.

“Shh. Don’t ruin the surprise,” I whisper, petting his head. “Let’s do this the right way.”

I step out and round the front as Colt comes out of the house, wiping his hands on a rag. He’s shirtless, jeans low on his hips, hair slightly messy, blue eyes shining for me.

He spots me as I reach for the passenger seat.

“Stormy,” he calls, walking down the steps toward me, “you didn’t text me back. I was worried.”

“Sorry, I was driving,” I say, stepping aside and opening the passenger door. “Both hands on the wheel, ya know.”

Boots leaps down like he’s been waiting his whole life for this exact cue.

Colt freezes halfway across the yard.

“Is that—” he starts, but the words fall apart when Boots barrels toward him. His bottom wags so hard that I think he might grow another tail.

Colt crouches, and Boots launches himself straight into his arms like they’ve known each other forever. Colt rubs behind his ears, laughing in that stunned, chest-deep way I’ve only heard a handful of times.

“You really brought him home,” he says, eyes shining in that way that always steals my breath.

“It was time,” I confirm. I swallow past the lump in my throat. “You always said you’d adopt him when the house was ready. And the bottom floor’s finished. Outside is painted. Upstairs is started. What’s a few months?”

He doesn’t say anything at first. Just stands slowly and crosses the distance between us.

“Darlin’,” he says. “This is me digging deep roots for a future with a porch swing and a dog at our feet.”

“I figured you could use someone else following you around,” I joke, trying to keep it light.

But he doesn’t laugh. Not right away.

He reaches for my face and kisses me slow, then faster, like he can’t help himself.

“Thank you. I love you,” he whispers against my mouth.

“Love you so much,” I say as Boots wiggles between us.

Colt bends and ruffles his ears again, his voice low. “Welcome to the family.”

The morning starts slow, but it’s warm and lazy, like honey on toast. Boots is curled up in the corner of the porch, lifting his head every time I move. I’m barefoot in one of Colt’s old shirts again, sipping my coffee as I watch the sun climb its way over the horizon.

Colt rounds the house a few minutes later, already in jeans and boots, a horse trailing behind him. It’s Fruit Loops, and he’s saddled.

I raise a brow. “What’s this?”

He grins. “Go get dressed. Thought we’d go for a morning ride, and we could check out the south ridge as the sun rises. Haven’t been up there since spring.”

I glance down at my mug, then back at him. “This is very cowboyish of you.”

“Darlin’, go get dressed before I swing you over my shoulder and show you the cowboy way.”

I burst into laughter.

He smiles. “Go on now. Time’s a-tickin’.”

I rush inside, throwing on some jeans, my borrowed boots, and a T-shirt.

Ten minutes later, he helps me into the saddle and sits behind me, grabbing the reins. My back is pressed against his chest, and I don’t know why, but sharing a horse is sexy as hell.

The soft creak of leather and the rhythmic thud of Fruit Loops’s hooves fill the quiet.

I lean back into Colt’s warmth, letting the breeze play with my hair as he trails kisses along my neck.

The land is greener than I expected, but I see the early signs of fall.

The trees are starting to yellow. The Texas sky overhead is big and open, which makes me feel small in the best way.

Colt guides us along the fence line, past the dry creek, and up a trail I didn’t realize existed.

The path curves uphill, winding through a patch of trees.

Colt’s quiet, but I can feel something buzzing beneath his silence—like he’s building toward something.

When we crest the ridge, I see why he brought me here.

There’s an overlook and a view that opens up like a held breath.

Below us, the land rolls out in soft hills and golden fields, dotted with trees.

The house is visible in the distance, its fresh white siding bright in the sun.

From here, everything looks small and peaceful, like we’re sitting on top of our own little world.

Colt dismounts first, then reaches for me. I slide off the saddle and land lightly in the dirt, brushing my hands on my thighs.

“It’s beautiful,” I say, turning in a slow circle.

He ties the reins to a nearby post. “You’re beautiful.”

I glance at him and smile. I love it when he tells me that because I know he means it.

Colt walks toward me. When he stops, we’re face-to-face, and there’s something different in his expression. There is a weight behind his eyes I haven’t seen before.

“I’ve been thinking about this for a while,” he says. “About what it means to build something with someone. Not just a house. A life.”

I swallow, my pulse suddenly louder in my ears.

He reaches into the pocket of his jeans and pulls out a small box, then drops to one knee in the dirt.

“This isn’t about what you walked away from. It’s about what we’re walking into together. I want it all with you, Stormy. Every sunrise. Every sunset. Every plan, mess, and morning coffee. Will you please make me the happiest cowboy alive and be my wife?”

The world stops like it’s waiting for my answer.

I look down at the ring, with a gorgeous diamond nestled in the center. It’s exactly what I’ve always wanted.

“Yes,” I whisper. “You’re the love of my life,” I say, wrapping my arms around him and kissing him so sweetly.

He lets out a breath, and then he’s pulling me into his arms, lifting me off the ground as I laugh into his neck.

Laughter falls from him, and he spins me around, my feet off the ground.

I kiss him until I can’t feel the difference between his breath and mine.

When he finally slips the ring on my finger, the sun catches it at the perfect angle, like we’re meant to be.

We stay at the lookout for a little longer, then head back when the sun gets too hot.

When we’re back at the barn, he looks at me with that grin that makes my stomach flip—the one that says he loves me and that we’re going to spend the rest of our days together.

Boots meets us at the door, tongue lolling like he’s been waiting to congratulate us. He sniffs my hand, then noses it like he’s inspecting the ring.

I scratch behind his ears. “You approve?”

He jumps up on me, and I laugh.

Inside, the house is cooler, and soft light filters through the kitchen window.

Colt heads straight to the sink, rinsing off my hands. I admire his windblown hair, sun-kissed cheeks, and how he steals kisses whenever he wants them.

“You hungry?” he asks.

“For you,” I whisper.

He smiles. “Good. ’Cause I’m starving.”

Colt lifts me into his arms, and I laugh as he carries me to the bedroom. He lays me back on the bed and smiles, like he’s memorizing me.

He tips his head toward me. “When do you want to get married?”

I smirk. “As soon as the second floor is finished.”

“Fuck, guess I’d better have it done by next week,” he says, carefully unbuttoning my jeans and sliding the zipper down.

He falls to his knees, his eyes not leaving mine. “Stormy Valentine. Mmm. Sounds sexy.”

His laugh is low, warm against the inside of my thigh. My heart skips, and it’s not just the name; it’s the way he says it, like his name belongs to me.

“I knew the moment I saw you, you were fixing to be mine,” he confesses.

I smile, loving his Southern drawl. “I knew it too.”

“Is this where I say I told you so?” he asks as he slides my panties down.

This moment feels like it could stretch out forever.

Everything feels like it’s finally settled where it belongs.

“I’ll take a million of them if it ends with us being together.”

“And to think, we still have a lifetime more of this, darlin’,” Colt says, burying his face between my legs.

“Love the sound of that, cowboy.” I gasp out, the pleasure all-consuming, my heart so damn full.

The thought of forever doesn’t scare me anymore. Not after this man taught me that some things don’t need fixing, just someone who loves you right.