Page 56 of Ride Me Cowboy (Coyote Creek Ranch #1)

Chapter Thirty-Two

Beth

I ’M OPERATING ON INSTINCT now. No forethought, no planning, just intuition. It pushed me to go after Cole, and now I’m staring up at him, my body flooded with feelings, my mind exploding like a fireworks display.

“I—what do you mean?”

“I mean, do you think you can just say all that then walk away?”

He frowns, clearly not following. “I didn’t want to pressure you.”

“It’s not pressuring me to allow me a few seconds to digest something like that.”

His expression changes; I see hope in his eyes. I recognize it instantly, and it makes warmth flood through me.

“So, let me get this straight,” I say. “You’re saying you’re in love with me.”

“I’m saying I love you so damn much, the last three weeks have been like torture. I’m saying I’ve been falling in love with you since that first day. That you are unique and wonderful, and I want nothing more than for you to come home with me.”

My heart leaps. My eyes burn. I look away, mouth moving quickly.

“You belong there. Not just with me, but with us. I will never be able to explain how much I regret letting you go. No, making you go.” He curses then, and I can tell how tormented he is by that day in the kitchen. “You are my goddamn everything, Beth. My everything.”

A tear slides down my cheek, but this is not a tear wrenched from me by grief.

It’s love. It’s happiness. And it’s surprise, too. After Christopher, I thought I’d never let someone in, never trust them, never give them my heart, but here I am, staring up at Cole, knowing without a shadow of a doubt that stepping into a life with him is just exactly what I want.

“Now I’m back to wanting to tell you there’s no pressure,” he says, carefully. “I know it’s a lot, what I’m askin’. I’d settle for being able to take you for dinner, to talk about it all some more. To see if there’s any way I can convince you to give me another shot.”

I’m pretty sure we both know there’s no way I’m letting him go back to Coyote Creek Ranch without me, but for some reason, I don’t tell him that, just yet.

“Fine, we’ll have dinner,” I say.

His relief is palpable. “Okay. What time shall I pick you up?”

“No, no, no,” I demur. “That’s not how it’s done here, Cowboy. I’ll pick you up.”

His brows shoot upwards. “I’m not sure I’m okay with that.”

“This isn’t Goodnight, anymore.”

“Apparently not.”

“Text me your hotel. I’ll see you at seven.”

I intentionally brought him to a ribs place, with a country tavern style décor.

It’s kind of kitsch and overdone, but there’s something about it that reminds me of The Silver Spur.

And seeing as we’re going to spend the night planning a future that sort of kicked off at that place, it seems appropriate.

I can tell he’s a bit unnerved. Probably by the chauffeur driven car I picked him up in, and possibly by the black leather mini skirt I’ve teamed with a silky shirt that shows a fair bit of cleavage.

But now that I know how we both feel about each other, it’s kind of fun to torment him, just a little.

He's being a perfect gentleman, of course, because he’s Cole Donovan. Even when I think he’s about to burst a blood vessel every time he looks at me, he’s keeping a respectful distance, not touching me other than putting his hand on the small of my back when we were guided to our table.

It’s loud in here, so rather than sitting across from each other in the booth, I slid in beside him, surprising him again. Our knees brush beneath the table, reminding me of dinners at the ranch. The thought of going back there—of going home —makes my whole body fizz with anticipation.

“How was your lunch?” he asks, casually.

“Fine.”

He nods. Uncertain. So unlike Cole, I take pity on him. “I was with Elsie.”

His brows shoot up, his surprise evident, so I fill him in on everything that’s happened there. From the way his jaw is clenched, I can guess what he’s feeling.

“They really thought he’d changed. Wishful thinking, I guess. They’re devastated.”

He nods once, his hand clenched so hard around his beer his knuckles turn white.

I’m amazed by how comfortable it is to just be with him, even when I can see he’s on edge, not knowing how I feel, and what I want from him. By the time we’ve finished eating, he looks around the kitschy saloon.

“How about a dance, Beth? For old time’s sake?”

My heart trips and I nod. “I’d like that.”

I feel his gaze on me as I slide from the booth, and a moment later he joins me, hand extended, palm up, something in his expression that drives home to me how much this moment means to him.

I put my own hand in his and let him lead me to the dance floor.

A Benson Boone song comes on and he draws me against him.

I feel his chest expand as he breathes me in, and I place my head against him there, listening to his heart. Solid, fast, hard.

We move to the song, our bodies in synch, our hearts beating the same tattoo, and then, because I don’t want to wait another moment, I glance up at him, and smile slowly. A smile of trust and knowing, a smile of promise.

“How did you find me, anyway?” I ask, realizing it hadn’t even occurred to me earlier today to wonder how he happened to be in the lobby of my old apartment.

“You described the building,” he says, simply.

I try to recall having done that, and I suppose I did, yes. The night I told him the truth about Christopher. “You remembered?”

“I’m pretty sure I remember everything you’ve ever said,” he says with a lift of his shoulders.

I stare at him, my heart expanding, my pulse rushing.

“I love you,” I say, simply, because what else is there?

His eyes sweep shut, and his body half-shudders as those words land against him.

“Thank God, Beth. You have no idea how much I’ve been hoping?—,”

I make a sound. “Really? You think you have a monopoly on that? I’ve spent the last three weeks hoping when I knew there was none, wishing, wanting, and then you showed up today…”

“You told me you didn’t love me,” he reminds me.

My cheeks flush with color. “I couldn’t bear to be something you felt bad about. I thought you came out of guilt. Because you have to fix people, and you were worried you’d broken me. I just wanted to liberate you from that, that’s all.”

“Well,” he says, lifting his hands to my cheeks now, in that way he has, like he has to hold me to make sure I’m really there. “It was possibly the worst three minutes of my life.”

A choked sound escapes from my throat. “I didn’t mean for it to be that way.”

“I know, honey. I know. You’re way too good for me.”

“Probably,” I say with a wink, and a watery smile. “But I’m afraid you’re stuck with me, anyways. Verbal contracts are binding, you know.”

And then, he kisses me, and I know it’s the first kiss of the rest of our lives, and I am powerless to do anything but stand there and be kissed by him, to kiss him back, knowing that against all odds, we made it here.

We decide to drive home, and we do it nice and slow. It takes us almost two weeks, because neither of us wants to rush it. This is time for us. To talk, and be together, to get used to what we are as a couple, before we get absorbed by the Donovans and become a part of that family.

We talk about everything, from the success of the social media accounts to how much Austin loved the wine collection.

He tells me how his family reacted to the news of the ranch’s financial difficulties, and that I was right (I’ll never get tired of hearing that, though).

He talks about Beau, and how he came back, just for the meeting, but that he’s as determined as ever to stick with bull riding.

We drive for thirty-six hours over twelve days, and we never run out of things to say to one another, of thoughts to share. We laugh, a lot.

So, by the time he turns the car up the drive of the ranch, we are not just a couple, but a partnership. A team. In every way on the same page, working toward the same thing.

I’m glad we took all that time together, on the drive out here, because the second Cole cuts the engine, Mack comes hurtling out of the house, sprinting to the car and wrapping me up in a huge, fat hug, making a sound that’s almost animalistic.

“Thank God, you’re back,” she grins, then jumps with excitement. “I can’t believe how much this buffoon nearly stuffed it all up.”

Cole throws her a look but then lifts his broad shoulders, like he totally agrees. “It doesn’t matter if you make a mistake,” he says, “It’s just how you fix it.”

And he fixed it real good, believe me. My skin feels warm as I remember how we’ve spent the last twelve nights. I throw him a look and can tell he’s on the same wavelength as me.

“Well, there y’all are,” Cass says, walking out in faded jeans and a singlet top. “Took your damn time getting home, didn’t you?” But she beelines to us and gives me a hug. Austin and Caleb are next.

Nash is back in Phoenix, Mack tells me, with a hint of a blush, as we start to walk toward the house, leaving the brothers and Caleb to grab out our luggage.

Well, mostly mine. Cole travels really light—you will not be surprised to hear.

I have brought a couple of big bags, including a heap of my designer shoes and clothes for Cass, if she wants them.

They’re beautiful, but I don’t need them anymore.

They’re part of my old life, and I’m never going back.

The rest of my stuff is being brought over by movers.

I didn’t keep much, but there are a few things that used to be my mom’s, and some things the McMahons were determined I ought to have.

Not to mention the trust fund that they have insisted I keep in my name, even when I seriously doubt I’ll ever touch it.

I know it’s guilt money, but right now, the kindest thing I can do is just let it go.

They feel better thinking I’ve got it, and I’m okay with that.

We’ve been home a couple of hours, catching up on everyone’s news, when Caleb points to the clock.

“Beau’s at a rodeo in Ledgerton tonight. Thought it was about time we popped your cherry,” Austin says with a wink.

“What do you say, City Girl?”

“I say, yeehaw,” I drawl, in my best attempt at a cowgirl accent, and they all laugh, or shake their heads, at my pathetic attempt. “Oh, well, I’ll work on it.”

“Well, you’ve got a lifetime to get it right, City Girl.”

“And I’ve got the perfect person to help me with that.”

With everything.

My partner, my love, and the happiness I deserve.

THE END

I hope you loved RIDE ME COWBOY.