Page 52 of Fixing to be Mine (Valentine Texas #5)

STORMY

T he moment we pull into the gravel lot of the big barn at Horseshoe Creek Ranch, I can already tell Grace has been here since sunrise. She’s a wedding planner, the best in the state, and I’m so happy that she’s volunteered to help us with this.

Colt parks the Bronco in the back, kills the engine, and turns to me. He doesn’t say anything before he reaches across the console and tucks a piece of hair behind my ear. His fingers linger on my cheek for a moment. Long enough to settle me.

“You ready, darlin’?” he asks.

I nod with a grin. “As I’ll ever be.”

This isn’t only an engagement party. It’s the first time we’ve been in a room full of people celebrating us. Not the PR version. Not the city version. Not the girl who ran away or the man who followed. Just us together.

Colt hops out and circles the front before I even get the door open. He offers his hand, as if I’m wearing heels, not the most comfortable pair of ankle boots I own. I will always take his hand.

The sun is dipping low behind the trees, casting everything in a golden wash. It makes everything look a little softer around the edges, like this is a dream. The breeze carries a whisper of excitement.

Inside, the barn is unrecognizable.

Twinkle lights are strung from every beam, flickering softly against the early evening sky.

I catch glimpses of glowing candles, small arrangements of fall flowers on every table—deep burgundy dahlias, rust-colored mums, and sprigs of eucalyptus, tucked into mismatched glass bottles that look freshly polished but still antique.

The air smells like cinnamon, vanilla, and something savory.

They’ve cleared the barn and made it look like it was plucked from a country bridal magazine. London strums her acoustic guitar and sings softly into the microphone.

“Oh, there they are!” London says, and everyone’s attention turns toward us. “I’m thrilled to announce Colt and Stormy have arrived!”

The barn bursts into cheers and applause. It feels like the whole town is here with drinks in hand, dresses swirling around boots and loafers alike.

I stand inside the doorway for a second, letting it all sink in.

Colt’s hand rests lightly on the small of my back, grounding me.

“Not bad, huh?” he says near my ear.

“It’s perfect,” I whisper.

He leans in, lips brushing my temple. “Like you.”

I glance around the room—at the people smiling, at the warmth in the lighting, at the way the space feels like it’s already wrapped itself around me. I’m not an outsider or a guest. I’m in the place where I belong.

Colt gently tugs me forward, toward the noise, toward the people who are already turning with smiles and lifted glasses.

I don’t brace for what’s coming next; I walk into it with my head high.

Remi’s the first to reach me. She appears from behind a table, carrying two glasses of champagne and a proud smile that tells me she’s been waiting for this moment all evening.

“I was growing worried,” she says, pressing the glasses into our hands before wrapping us in tight hugs. “What do you think of the barn?”

I laugh into her shoulder, and then we pull away. “Honestly? It’s stunning. I’m blown away.”

She waves her hand toward the candlelit tables and the carefully draped chiffon hanging from the rafters. “Grace insisted we keep it simple but elegant. ‘West Texas romance meets understated chic,’ I think were her exact words.”

I glance across the room and spot Grace adjusting a floral arrangement near the dessert table, her sleek ponytail bobbing as she gives instructions to a young server. She catches my eye and gives me a cute wave. Harrison is beside her, stealing kisses, and she swats him away.

Colt slips off to talk to Beckett and Emmett for a few minutes, and I’m passed to each family member and family friend.

Everyone says the same thing. “We knew Colt was different when you came into town.”

A few of them joke about the auction and that he won the best prize. I blush, laugh, and take it all in stride.

Eventually, I find myself near the dessert table, eyeing a tray of mini pecan pies, when a voice beside me says, “So, you’re the reason my bestie has gone soft.”

I turn and see Boone standing there, looking like he walked out of a Southern gothic novel. Dark gray eyes, sharp cheekbones, a mouth like a dare. He’s wearing a black T-shirt.

He holds out a hand. “Boone Tucker. You probably don’t remember me.”

“I remember you from the bar,” I say, taking his hand. “How have you been?”

“Good.” He smiles. “Busy working now that I’m home. Happy looks good on Colt. That’s because of you.”

I grin wide. “Thanks. You should join us for dinner one day.”

“Actually, I’d like that.” He picks up a glass of whiskey from the edge of the table and takes a slow sip.

Before I can say anything else, Colt appears beside me again and slides a hand around my waist. His presence shifts something between us—makes the air feel grounded again.

Boone raises his glass in a lazy salute. “Congratulations, both of you. Don’t screw it up.”

Colt laughs and gives his friend a hug. They chat for a little while longer before Boone is pulled away by his aunt.

I glance up at Colt. “I invited him to dinner.”

He snorts. “Awesome. Thank you for that. I’ve been neglecting a lot of people.”

“Because of me?”

He shakes his head. “Because of the house. When I’m in reno mode, everyone knows I focus. You were an added bonus.”

Colt takes my hand and leads me outside, away from everyone. The noise of the party fades the moment we step away.

It’s not loud to begin with—nothing like the city or even the rodeo—but inside the barn, there’s a steady hum of voices, laughter, the occasional burst of music. Out here, it’s quieter.

Colt guides my back against the cold metal and slides his mouth against mine. I grab his shirt, losing control as our tongues twist together. When he pulls away, we’re both breathless.

“What was that for?” I ask.

“I needed it,” he tells me, pressing kisses on my neck. “Couldn’t stop watching how pretty you are from across the room.”

I can hear the muffled sound of Emmett laughing inside. Kinsley is retelling a story about how they wrestled in wet horse shit when they were kids. The tempo of the music picks up, and it floats through the barn doors.

“This feels like a real beginning,” I say quietly. “Not the next chapter, but the part where the whole story shifts.”

Colt hums in agreement. “It does.”

He reaches for my hand again, lacing our fingers together.

“I love you,” he says, like a truth he’s lived in for so long.

I tilt my head back to look at him. “I love you too.”

Seconds later, we’re interrupted. It’s Fenix. “Y’all gonna stand out here and make out all night or enjoy your party?”

I burst into laughter, and so does Colt.

We return to the barn as someone’s bringing out another tray of towering mini pies. Colt grabs one and hands it to me without a word, a little grin tugging at the corner of his mouth.

I bite into it and immediately recognize the flavor. “Is this … maple pecan?”

He nods. “Mama’s recipe.”

“Wow,” I say. “Do you know how to make these?”

He shakes his head. “Nope. But she might teach you.”

“I’d love that.”

I glance around the barn, taking it all in one more time. The lanterns. The people. The flowers wrapped in twine. My name is written next to Colt’s on a little wooden sign that says The Future Valentines .

It’s a lot, but it doesn’t feel like too much. It never does with him. Right now, I’m the happiest I’ve ever been.