Page 12 of His Big Hometown Cowboy (Bigger Is Best #1)

We climbed steadily, the only sounds our breathing and the crunch of our boots on the loose gravel.

When we finally crested the rise, the view opened up dramatically.

Rolling hills unfolded in every direction, painted in shades of dusty green and gold.

My cattle dotted the pastures like scattered black beads.

Farther beyond, the ranch house, the barns, the corrals–my whole world–looked small, contained.

Timmy stopped beside me, his breath catching. “Wow. Wyatt, this is…”

“Worth the climb?” I watched his face, seeing the vastness reflected in his eyes.

“Definitely.” He took a step closer to the edge, his gaze sweeping the horizon. “You own all this?”

“Pretty much everything you see this side of the creek.” I pointed west. “And down to the county road over there.”

“It’s incredible.” He sounded genuinely impressed. “It’s… huge.”

“My father used to bring me up here.” I moved to stand beside him, our shoulders brushing. The familiar weight of legacy settled on me, heavier sometimes than others. “Said a man needs to stand back and see what he’s responsible for every once in a while. Reminds you what all the sweat is for.”

Timmy glanced at me, his expression serious. “Is that what it feels like? Responsibility?”

I thought about it.

The fences that always needed mending, the calving season stress, the market fluctuations, the weight of keeping something afloat that generations had built.

“Sometimes,” I admitted. “It’s work. Hard work. But other times—” I looked out over the land. “—it feels like the only thing I was ever meant to do. It’s part of me.” I hesitated, then added, “Doesn’t mean it’s not lonely, though. Or that I don’t screw things up.”

He studied my face. “You’re good at it. Travis says you’ve turned things around since your dad…”

Pride flickered, warm and welcome. “I made some changes.” I looked out at the valley, articulating something I rarely voiced. “Want it to be something that lasts. Dad poured his life into this place. Don’t want to be the one who lets it slide.”

“You won’t,” Timmy said. “You’ve got that same stubborn streak he did. Are you happy, Wyatt? Really?”

The question hung in the clear air.

“Happier than I’ve been in a long time,” I answered honestly. “Especially right now.”

His answering smile lit up his face.

He stepped closer, fitting naturally against my side as I draped an arm around his shoulders. We stood there for a while, just looking. Him seeing it perhaps for the first time, me seeing it fresh through his eyes.

I spread out the old wool blanket I kept in the truck, and we sat, unpacking the simple lunch. Sandwiches, apples, cold beers.

“So,” I started, handing him a beer. “You said you weren’t ready to go back to California. What does that mean, exactly?”

He popped the top off his beer, taking a long swallow. “I don’t exactly have a job to go back to.”

My eyebrows shot up. “You quit?”

He shook his head, looking slightly sheepish.

“Didn’t tell Travis. Didn’t tell anyone.

That startup I poured four years into? It went belly-up.

No money left. They laid everyone off.” He picked at the label on his bottle.

“Honestly, it was almost a relief. The pressure was insane. Felt like I was drowning.”

“Shit, Timmy. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” He managed a wry smile. “I’ve got enough to live on, for a little while at least. Figure things out.” He met my gaze, his expression more open, vulnerable. “Problem is, I don’t know what ‘figuring things out’ looks like anymore. All my plans revolved around that career path.”

“So you’re staying? Here?” Hope, sharp and insistent, flared in my chest.

He nodded slowly. “Yeah. I think so. Can do some freelance design work remotely, maybe pick up some projects online.” He hesitated. “If… if that’s okay? Me just… being here?”

“Okay?” I leaned closer, setting my beer down. “Timmy, I want you here.”

His smile turned a little mischievous. “Might need some convincing to stick around long term, though.”

“That so?” I brushed my thumb across his lower lip, feeling the faint tremor that ran through him. “What kind of convincing did you have in mind?”

“Well,” he tilted his head, pretending to consider it. “Regular home-cooked breakfasts are a good start. Maybe guaranteed access to a certain cowboy’s bed whenever I want it?”

“Think that can be arranged.” My voice dropped lower. “Anything else?”

His expression turned serious again, his eyes searching mine. “I feel like I’m starting over in a lot of ways. Might take me a while to figure out where I fit.”

He wasn’t just changing locations. He was rebuilding his life.

With me.

“I waited four years just to get you back here,” I said softly, catching his hand, linking our fingers. “I’ll give you anything and everything you want. As long as you’re by my side.”

His answering kiss was slow, deep. When we broke apart, he rested his forehead against mine. “Take me back to the creek?” His voice a low murmur. “Our creek.”

I knew exactly what he meant. “Now?”

He nodded, his eyes holding mine. “Want to finish what we started yesterday?”

The afternoon sun slanted lower, casting long shadows by the time we reached the familiar bend in Brogan Creek. The flat rock waited, sun-warmed. Our spot.

Timmy walked to the water’s edge, turning back to me with that wicked grin. “No helpful horse this time.”

“Guess I’ll have to jump in myself.”

“Or…” He lunged, planting his hands flat on my chest and shoving with surprising force. I braced instinctively, barely shifting my weight. He might as well have tried to push over one of the ranch trucks. He stumbled back a step, eyes wide. “Damn. Okay, mister immovable muscle man.”

I chuckled, crossing my arms. “You really thought that would work?”

“Hey, a guy can dream!” His eyes danced with mischief. He tugged his t-shirt over his head, tossing it onto the grass. “Guess I’ll just have to convince you to come in willingly.”

“Don’t think it’ll take much convincing.” I started taking off my shirt. “Unless you want to go first?”

He grinned, already working the button on his jeans. “Race you.”

I watched him strip with a carefree lack of self-consciousness, the sunlight gilding his lean frame. Shirt, jeans, briefs–discarded onto the grassy bank.

My clothes followed, landing in a heap beside his.

“Like the view?” he asked, echoing my words from the morning as his gaze swept over me.

“Always.” I stepped toward the water’s edge.

He waded in, shivering slightly as the cold hit his skin. “Haven’t changed your mind?” I asked, following him into the deeper water until the creek swirled around my waist.

“About you?” He reached for me, his hands finding my shoulders, sliding down my bare skin. “Never.”

His fingers traced the lines of my chest, then met mine as I reached for him.

The cool creek water surrounded our naked bodies.

I backed him gently against a smooth rock at the creek bank, pressing my body against his.

I kissed him again, deeper this time, one hand sliding down his slick skin, finding him hard and ready.

He wrapped his legs around my waist, and I lifted him easily, the water helping to support his weight. His gasp was sharp against my ear.

“Here?” he breathed. “Can we?”

“We can try.” I positioned myself, moving slowly, carefully. He hissed, tensing.

“Too much?” I started to pull back.

“No.” He shifted, finding a better angle, and slid down onto me with a choked cry that was pure pleasure. “God, yes. Like that.”

The sensation was electric. His tight heat enveloping me, the cool water swirling around our joined bodies, the dappled sunlight filtering through the cottonwood leaves above.

I braced myself against the rock, holding him steady as he began to move, setting the rhythm.

“Fuck, Timmy,” I groaned, watching his face, lost in sensation. “Feels… different out here.”

“Better,” he gasped, tightening around me.

He rode me with a desperate urgency that matched my own, his head thrown back, water droplets clinging to his lashes. The raw beauty of him, completely open and vulnerable beneath me, sent me hurtling toward the edge.

“Come for me, sweetheart,” I commanded, my voice rough.

His release was a ragged cry, his body arching against mine. The sight, the feel of him coming undone, shattered my own control. I followed him over, burying myself deep inside him as pleasure ripped through me.

We clung together afterwards in the gentle current, breathing heavily. Eventually, I eased out of him, my legs shaky as we found his footing on the smooth creek bed.

I pulled him close, kissing his wet hair.

We rinsed off, then climbed onto the flat rock, stretching out naked in the fading sunlight. The stone held the day’s warmth, comfortable against our cool skin. Timmy lay beside me, his head pillowed on my arm, eyes closed.

“I can’t believe this is real,” he murmured after a long silence.

“It’s real.” I traced the curve of his shoulder.

He turned his head, opening his eyes to look at me. They were clear, soft, full of certainty. “I definitelydon’t want to go back to California, Wyatt.”

“You don’t have to, sweetheart.”

His hand came to rest on my chest, flat over my heart. “I don’t know what happens next. But I know I want to figure it out here. With you.”

I covered his hand with mine, feeling the steady beat beneath our palms. My heart. His hand. “Good.” My voice was thick. “Because I’m not letting you go again.” I brought his hand to my lips, pressing a kiss to his knuckles. “Whatever comes next, we figure it out together.”

He smiled, a slow, beautiful sunrise of a smile. “Promise?”

“Promise.” I pulled him closer, sealing it with a kiss.

Lying there, with Timmy solid and real beside me, the weight of the ranch, and the life I’d built, felt different.

Not lighter, exactly, but… shared. Balanced. The responsibility was still mine. The future of this land still rested on my shoulders.

But building that future didn’t have to be a solitary job anymore.

Home wasn’t just the land.

Maybe it was also the person lying beside you, trusting you with their heart, making you promise a future you were suddenly inspired to build.

Together.

THE END

Thank you for joining Wyatt and Timmy on their journey from creek-side reconnection to happily ever after! I've always been fascinated by the walls we build around our hearts—and the exhilarating moment when the right person comes along, and those walls come tumbling down.

Sometimes the thing we want most is right in front of us, just waiting for us to be brave enough to reach for it. Whether it's a brooding cowboy you've fantasized about since your teenage years or the boy who grew into a man worth crossing every boundary for.

I hope their story reminded you that it's never too late to come home—especially when home turns out to be a person rather than a place.