Page 70 of Owned By The Cowboy

“Much better. Thank you, honey.”

When she smiles at me in the mirror, it’s like the sun’s shining inside here. Warm and bright, and it makes my chest so fucking full.

“Stop thanking me,” I tell her, shaking my head.

She rolls her eyes at me in the rearview mirror.

“Ma,” Nia interrupts, “stop being weird about it. Blayne wants to be here.”

“I’m not being weird,” Regie protests, making us all laugh.

“You’re totally being weird. You act like Blayne is doing us a favor when he’s just doing normal family stuff.”

That shuts both Reggie and me up.

* * *

The family fun center is packed, but we manage to get in without too much wait. The place is huge. They have video games, laser tag, and about six different food court options that all smell like grease and sugar.

“Where do we start?” I ask.

“Mini golf!” Annalise votes.

“Go-karts,” Jaylen counters.

“Arcade,” Nia says.

“Democracy in action,” Reggie observes with a laugh that makes me want to wrap my arms around her and keep her laughing forever.

“How about we split up for an hour, then meet back for dinner?” I suggest.

“No,” Annalise says immediately. “We should all stay together. It’s more fun that way.”

“She’s right,” Reggie agrees. “Family outing means everyone together.”

So we start with mini golf, which turns out to be moreentertaining than I expected. Annalise takes every shot like she’s competing in the Masters. Nia’s surprisingly good despite her crutches. Jaylen pretends he doesn’t care but gets pissed when his ball doesn’t cooperate.

And Reggie… Christ, Reggie is so bad at mini golf. Hilariously, adorably bad.

“I don’t understand,” she says after her ball ricochets off three different obstacles and somehow ends up further from the hole than when she started. “It’s just a tiny ball and a tiny stick. Should not be this hard.”

She has a crease between her eyebrows, and her plump bottom lip is caught between her teeth. That makes my dick twitch, which is completely inappropriate for family fun times, but what you’re gonna do?

“It’s all in the wrists, baby,” I tell her.

“My wrists are fine.”

“Your form’s all wrong.”

“I don’t have form. I’m just hitting the ball.”

“That’s your problem right there.”

I move behind her, putting my hands over hers on the club. She’s warm and soft against my chest, and when she leans back into me, I catch her scent. Flowers and Reggie. Makes me want to bury my face in her neck and breathe her in.

“This is definitely cheating,” she says, and I can hear the smile in her voice.

“It’s coaching.”