Page 42 of Holden: Bucked By Love (Crawford Ridge Ranch #1)

We walk hand in hand back to the camper, and as we do, a silly feeling sweeps over me—a sudden desire to make this a new start in a light-hearted way.

"I vow to never steal your drink, even if I'm thirsty and it's sitting right there," I say, out of the blue.

"That's true love," Holden cracks.

"I vow to unclog my own hair out of the tub, because you shouldn't be punished for my hair."

His laugh is more of a cough. "Do you know how to do it?"

"No. But I'm teachable and willing."

"We'll talk again after your first hair-rat experience."

I wrinkle my nose. "Gross."

"It is."

I wonder how many other gross things he simply took care of because that's who Holden is. My heart swells and I move from holding his hand to wrapping mine around his biceps and pulling close to press my shoulder against his arm as we walk.

"I promise to find the TV remote when it's lost, even if I'm not the one who lost it," I state.

"I don't watch TV."

"You're missing the point. New and improved Holden will probably start watching TV because that's how normal couples spend time together. "

He chuckles. "I vow to try to stay awake during trash reality programs."

"The fact that you call them programs worries me."

"I vow to never call them programs again."

I squeeze his arm as my amusement sounds. "I vow to use actual recipes when cooking, rather than always experimenting on you and the kids."

He pauses and turns to face me. His expression is stoic, but his eyes are sparking. "Don't make vows you can't keep, honey."

I lick at my lips. "Fair enough. I vow to stop lying about what ingredients I'm using."

He smacks his tongue. "Still feels unachievable."

Now I bite my lips, fighting a smile. "Okay. I vow to stop pretending to care that you guys don't always like what I make, because you're lucky anyone cooks at all."

He nods. "I vow to keep pretending I like whatever you make."

I let the smile free. "See, marriage is about compromise. We're learning."

He sets us walking again and his voice softens with sincerity. "I vow to love you better than I have in the past."

It's a sucker punch, and he wins this round. I'm glad I'm anchored by his arm, because I sort of want to float away after that doozy.

We get to the camper and make quick work of packing up his truly pathetic life. It makes me sad to look around at the shabby curtains and chipped kitchenette. I imagine him stuffing his body into that shower stall daily and can confirm he's paid a penance.

We both have .

A few outfits, his pillow, and some food are all we need to carry over.

He'd used a carryon suitcase to move it out, and that's about all it takes to move him back.

It hits me that he's so worried about the ways he let me down, and vows to be better, but here he is with like three things in the world, and now it's my turn to feel a touch sheepish.

I stop him before we step onto the deck.

"Holden, I need you to know that you weren't all to blame for how things went between us.

" The cowboy hat is back and I reach up to push it away.

I want to see his beautiful eyes. "I let you down too.

I may not be perfect, and I'll probably let you down again sometimes, but I vow to make sure you have the things you need in this marriage and life.

I love you so much. I'm sorry I stopped showing that. "

The thud of his luggage hitting the ground registers a millisecond before his hands cup my face and his mouth presses to mine.

I drop the food I'm carrying, which means we've lost a dozen eggs, and possibly a pint of milk if the lid popped off, but it's worth it to grip his wrists and sink into the kiss.

I've missed kissing this man. His hands are rough against my soft cheeks, his beard a little scratchy against my chin, but I wouldn't want it any other way.

His large body heats us both as we lean into each other.

The sound of a clearing throat breaks us apart, and I look over my shoulder to see Mason standing just outside the doorway with a knowing, slightly disgusted look.

"So, Dad's moving back in?" he asks, all cool and casual.

Holden picks up his suitcase and the loaf of bread I also dropped while my cheeks pink at being busted.

"He is," I chirp happily.

"About time," he replies, and then slips back inside .

We gather broken eggs and an empty milk jug, and head inside to toss it in the trash and wash our hands.

Mason stands in the kitchen watching. He's playing chill, but I can feel the happiness vibrating off him.

It's the same happiness zipping between me and his dad too.

We give him hugs and send him off to bed, and then my husband follows me up the stairs to our room.

We don't bother unpacking his suitcase. Holden takes a quick—and warm—shower and then together we change into our pajamas and brush our teeth like we're in a race.

At long last we fall into bed together. He wraps me close in his arms, my head resting on his chest, and my world rights itself as I fall asleep to the sound of his heartbeat.