Page 37 of Holden: Bucked By Love (Crawford Ridge Ranch #1)

Holden

It shouldn't have come as a surprise that in a town the size of Pinehaven, finding a tandem bicycle to rent would be a challenge, but I did not realize I'd have to break down and order a bike to be delivered to the homestead where I'd then have to endure the taunting of Walker and Landry while I put it together.

Like either of them know anything about the sacrifices a man has to make to woo a woman—or that if he's successful it's worth it.

They've never been serious about anyone outside of themselves.

My only recourse was to mock them for being twenty-nine and twenty-six with zero romantic prospects.

The barb didn't sting much, considering they both laughed and walked away without even attempting to jab back.

It's been five days since I told Leni I'd set up the last item on our Buck-It List, and I haven't wasted that time.

My text game has been pretty on point, if I do say so myself.

I've stayed in more contact with Leni this week than I did for an entire year before.

Teasing her about my permanently pruned fingers after our date at Maple Pond, sharing memories when something pops into my head, and making sure that I'm home earlier and taking the kids now and then.

We've had dinner together as a family twice, sitting on the back deck under a shade umbrella.

It's been nice—better than nice. She's responded in kind and I feel more at ease than I have in a long time.

I'm truly understanding how off-kilter my life had become.

Leni kept telling me that my family needed me, but it turns out I needed them too.

And while my parents and brothers are family, they should have been the second string, not the priority.

The ranch should have been my job, not my entire identity.

These lessons were painful and I'm not going to forget it because I can't go through this again, and I won't do it to Leni a second time.

I throw the blue and white tandem bike in the bed of my truck, followed by the speaker that will be mounted to the handlebars when we get to town.

My palms are already sweaty thinking about blasting a cheesy love song as we cruise down Main Street.

At least it's not a weekend night, when more people would be around, but I'm still highly aware of how much gossip is going to be set ablaze by this. I'm pre-humiliated if that's a thing.

I shoot a text off to Leni.

I'm on my way, Sunshine. Wear pants with padding, because these seats are hard and we aren't teenagers anymore!

Leni

I've been focusing on my glutes lately, they're ready.

How interesting . . . Tell me more about these glutes .

She replies with an eyeroll emoji and I smile thinking about seeing her, and the surprise I have in store.

I'm hesitant to admit that I have flutters of excitement in my stomach, but I do.

To be fair, there's a healthy mix of anxiety in there too, because I need this to go well.

I hope I can eat the dinner I have packed in a basket that I've rigged to go behind the second seat.

The drive to our cabin only takes a few minutes, and Leni greets me in the driveway holding two water bottles.

It's early August now, and the days are hot and the sun stays up late, so she's wearing shorts and sneakers, and a visor that will shade her face while letting the heat climb out the top of her head to stay cool.

Leni is a firm believer that her body is a chimney.

When she's cold, she covers her head to keep the heat in.

When she's hot, she leaves it uncovered to let the heat out.

She swears it's science, and it probably is because she always seems a little more comfortable than the rest of us.

I'm in a cowboy hat, jeans, and boots, and I feel a lot warmer than she looks. Seeing her only makes the heat climb. My Leni is one beautiful woman.

"Are you seriously cycling in those boots?" She grins, her eyes crinkling with amusement as I climb out of the truck and meet her near the hood.

I nod. "I don't have a lot of other options."

She laughs and goes to her tiptoes to press a light kiss to my scruffy cheek. I work to not grab her and turn it into more. If my plans go well, there will be time for that later.

"A cowboy on a bike," she smiles. "You're so earth conscious right now."

I chuckle. "I'm glad I can do my part. "

I walk around to the passenger door and open it for her. I can smell her perfumed scent as she draws closer, and I cast aside my good intentions and wrap my hand around her wrist to draw her close enough to tuck under my cowboy hat and press a kiss to her cheek.

"Hi," I say, close to her ear.

I can actually hear her swallow. "Hey, yourself," she replies.

Satisfied with her reaction, I guide her to the door of the truck and she climbs in effortlessly with a shy smile on her perfect face.

I put that there, and it makes me want to puff out my chest and announce it to the world, but I simply close the truck door behind her and circle around to the driver's side with my own smile.

"Are you going to tell me the plan, Mr. Secret Suspense?" she asks as I pull off the Crawford land onto the highway that leads into town. "You've been so mysterious . . . although Walker sent a text wishing me a good time with my giant marshmallow man, whatever that means."

I smack my lips and shoot her a grin. "Walker is an idiot and I'm not giving anything away. You're trapped on a tandem bike with me, which means you're literally along for the ride."

She fake grumps and crosses her arms. "You're loving this."

Amusement has my lips twitching. "I really am."

Leni, being the more boisterous and extroverted of the two of us, has typically been the one to lead out.

I've been happy following along, especially because I'm the main decision maker and driving force at the ranch and don't mind handing the symbolic reins off to someone else when I get the chance, but it's fun to reverse roles a little bit tonight.

I voice a thought before I think it through. "Has it been hard, always being the one driving everything for our family? "

She blinks as she looks over at me, her dark eyes thoughtful. "I'm mostly okay being bossy," she starts, pulling a face at herself, "but sometimes, yes. Sometimes it felt like I was forcing you to do things, and I didn't want to be your mom."

I toss her a flirty look. "You're not my mom, honey, trust me."

She rolls her eyes and waves a hand. "You know what I mean. I don't like feeling like I have to push for it or it won't happen. Nagging is not attractive."

"Even for the fun things?"

"Even the fun things, yes." She nods. "I understand that you're overworked and tired, but it would be nice to not always be the one making plans and executing all the details. It's lonely."

The word lonely has been tossed around a lot over the past few weeks and I'm realizing how much both of us were feeling it, but neither of us verbalized it.

Maybe we thought things were set and that was part of being an adult.

I know that for my part I'd shove the thought away and tell myself to buck up, be stronger, whine less. I don't want to settle anymore.

"I think I fell into the rut of believing there wasn't room for fun when there was a family to support and a ranch to keep running.

It felt irresponsible to set it aside and play," I murmur, processing out loud in a way I haven't done for a while.

"I gave that over to you because you're a natural at it, and seeing my hard work provide entertainment for you and Mace and Jo-Jo, it was satisfying. "

"Less satisfying than it would have been if you'd gone with us," she replies.

I reach for her hand and weave my fingers through hers. "I know. I didn't get that, but I do now. I'm sorry. "

Her expression softens as she looks over at me. "Thanks."

"I wish you'd told me," I whisper.

She squeezes my hand. "I tried, Holden. In little ways. Maybe they were too subtle, and your rock-like brain didn't compute, but I always invited you." Her tone is purposefully light, and she tries to make it land with humor, which I appreciate.

But I don't respond in kind. "Until you stopped," I say sadly, honestly.

She nods. "Until I grew tired of the rejection."

My throat thickens under the admission, but even though it's painful I'm glad we're talking openly. "I didn't mean to reject you."

Her gaze moves out the window and she sighs. "I believe you didn't do it on purpose."

Not the response I would have wished for, but again, I'll take the honesty.

We arrive at the outskirts of town and I pull over and park the truck on the gravel that lines the small two-lane roads.

I turn off the engine and Leni takes her hand from mine to run her palms down her legs.

She plays a good game, but she's nervous about this too.

It's a lot, even for someone as social as my wife.

"You ready?" I ask her with a wink. "Our reputation may not heal from this."

She laughs and bites at her lower lip. "Or, we're honored for our bravery."

"I'm not putting any money on that one," I tease as I shove open my truck door and she does the same.

It feels too quiet out here as I pull the bike out of the truck bed.

No cars are passing, no birds are chirping, it's hot air and silence.

I puff out a breath and set the bike next to the truck.

Leni balances it while I attach the picnic basket to the back and the speaker to the handlebars.

She watches in without saying anything, but her fingers tap the bike in a speedy rhythm.

"Are you committed to the song?" I ask, hopeful she'll let us off the hook. "We could simply ride the bike."

She takes a deep breath. "No, we have to do it as written. We committed."