Page 30 of Holden: Bucked By Love (Crawford Ridge Ranch #1)

"I bought him a new book on animal care to keep him from saying anything," Holden adds, patting my knee softly as he finishes bandaging it .

His eyes move up to meet mine, and they're all crinkled around the edges. Teenage Holden didn't have those lines, but they look good on him.

"You didn't tell me that," I smile.

He nods, still grinning. "It was a hard cover too. Not cheap."

"Walker is smarter than he gets credit for sometimes," I joke.

I wiggle my ankle and Holden watches, noting my flinch.

"Here," he says, before taking it in his rough hands and probing lightly.

The feeling is nice. I've missed his gentleness and care.

Having Holden's attention is like having sunlight on you, and it's no wonder I've felt dark for the past few years.

I've missed the sun. His hair shifts forward as he bends over me, varying shades of brown. While Walker’s and Landry's hair gets even lighter every summer, Holden's stays dark, proof of his commitment to his hat.

His skin, however, has deepened into the summer tan that always makes his eyes look a little more green.

"Your mom booked a wedding. Her first," I say, and his hands go still on my ankle as those hazel eyes move back to mine.

"Did she ask you first?" he asks.

I love that he asked that. I've gone with the flow for so long that somewhere along the way people stopped asking.

The simple question makes me tear up, and I shake my head as I swallow hard and breathe in quickly through my nose.

It's a little trick I use to keep tears from falling, and he knows it.

His hand moves from my ankle and he wraps it around my wrist lightly.

"She didn't," he states.

I confirm it. "No. "

"I'm sorry. You should be asked about things that will affect you. You don't have to be part of it. Not if you don't want to." He says it in a kind but firm way that I appreciate. "I'll talk to her."

I shake my head. "It's probably better coming from me. I don't need you to fight my battles."

His thumb grazes my inner arm. "Is talking to my mama the same as going into battle?" His lips twitch and I roll my eyes, shaking my head for good measure. "Good," he says lightly. "I was starting to worry that things were even worse than I suspected."

I manage a wobbly smile, the tears still fighting me.

"She's going to be disappointed though. The wedding is next month.

I can't walk away now. She needs someone to help her.

" I pause and then lean close and whisper, almost afraid to say it out loud.

I'm not a pot stirrer, and this feels like I'm stirring up trouble.

"Even worse, I think she's under the impression that I'll take over someday and run the business. "

He frowns. "Why would she think that?"

I shrug, leaning back to meet his concerned eyes. "Probably because I've been helping with the B&B and never pushed back."

"The wedding is next month? That's fast for a wedding."

I nod, happy that he hasn't moved his hand from my wrist. "It's sort of an elopement thing. So, it's small and manageable. Like a test wedding." I wiggle my toes. "She says she wants to do five or six a year."

He sighs and our eyes lock as he searches my features. My stomach swoops and I curl my bare toes in at the feeling.

"I'm here to chat with Dad," he says thoughtfully. "I'll talk to her too. Last I heard she needed to get a few things in order before any of us are ready for weddings anyhow. "

I place my free hand on his firm chest. "I'll talk to her about me though. Okay? I think she'll feel hurt if it comes from you. Like I ran to you and tattled or something."

He looks down at my hand on his chest and nods. "All right."

I drop my hand, and his eyes find mine again.

The kitchen feels warm and cozy, which is silly because it's a large, family-sized room.

But with me sitting on the counter and him standing so close that his stomach is nearly grazing my knees, his hazel eyes looking into mine, it feels private.

That feeling has me taking a risk and hoping it will pan out.

"What are you here to talk to your dad about?" I ask.

It's a small question. It could be as simple as letting him know some supplies arrived, or as big as firing someone who messed up.

The point in asking is to see if things are actually changing or if it's all in my head.

He used to involve me in his life, but he stopped. This is me asking to be included again.

"I want to discuss the needs of the ranch," he says in a quiet, hesitant voice. I don't want to make any assumptions about what that means, so I nod, a sign for him to continue. "I want to redistribute things more evenly so that I can have better balance."

A smile teases my lips. "Work-life balance is all the rage these days."

He chews on his lips and nods. "I don't know how it looks yet, but I'd like to at least start the conversation."

"I love that."

He steps closer, closing the distance between my knees and his stomach, until I can feel his cold belt buckle against my unbandaged knee.

"I need to make some changes. "

The hand that's been wrapped around my wrist releases and he trails light fingers up my bare arm to my shoulder and back down, watching the path as they go, and I lean into the touch.

While Rae's announcement and my fall down the stairs weren't exactly good things, it brought me to this moment and I'm not complaining.

I rest a hand on his shoulder and trace my eyes around his face, from his stubble-covered chin to the dark, unruly hat-head, and back down to eyes that are watching me closely. Eyes I've known forever.

"I'm glad you're talking to your dad," I whisper.

His hand wraps firmly around my biceps, and with a slight pull I slide in closer to him.

His other hand comes to my cheek and brushes back a stray hair, and there's affection and desire in his gaze.

Tingles chase across my chest. He kissed me two days ago, and I'd enjoyed it while feeling a little unsure at the same time, but here, now, I don't feel unsure anymore.

I want to kiss my husband.

So I slide my hand from his shoulder around to the back of his neck, and I guide him near enough that I can close that distance and press my lips to his.

His mouth is warm and soft, and he pushes out a breath through his nose that tickles at mine.

His hands move to my back and he wraps me in the same strong arms that carried me here from the staircase.

I wrap my arms around his shoulders, forgetting our surroundings and our current separated status, and kiss him with fervor and hope.

Our bodies are both warm from the work we've been doing, but under that I can still smell his scent and I soak it up as I run my soft hands over his shoulders and neck.

His hold on me shifts, one hand skirting to my waist to squeeze and the other moving up my spine and into my hair where he weaves his fingers through the waves .

I open my defenses to him, letting him in with full vulnerability, praying I can convey my tender heart through this connection.

I'm jubilant and terrified. I know how beautifully Holden can love me, and how devastating it feels when he's cold, and I'm hopeful as our mouths move together and our arms band us in close that he'll feel how much I want him to eventually come home.