Page 89 of Rocky Mountain Desire

“The twins did the triangles around the edges—I guess they’re called geese?”

Hope nodded.

“Then they dumped the lot on me and told me to put it together. So I’ve been working it in-between pulling calves. And you’d better take care of it, because it’s the last time in my life I’m ever sewing.”

“Appropriate, because it’s the last time you’re ever proposing as well.” She couldn’t believe it. Her oversized cowboy had been juggling chores and making something that would have never been on his list if she weren’t important, real important, to him. “Matt, I love it. So much. And the ring—it’s perfect.”

He caught her hands in his and kissed her fingers. “And me?”

She shrugged. “Well, you’ll do.”

Matt roared with laughter and took control, rolling her under him, stripping her bare. Drawing their bodies together in the same way their hearts were knit together. All too soon, and not nearly soon enough, he slid into her core and she moaned her acceptance.

“I love you, Hope.” He hovered over her, filling her, giving her a place to be with family and a place to be herself.

“Love you too. Really.” She breathed out her contentment as he made love to her, taking her higher. Bringing her with him as they both slipped over.

Hope curled up against him when they were done. Matt’s breathing calmed, his fingers slowing where he was caressing her neck. He fell asleep again, and this time she didn’t wake him. Just lay in his arms, plotting how to make a quilt of her own with snowstorms and bathtubs and mirrors in it.

No one but the two of them would understand, but she never wanted to forget what kind of work it took to make love happen.

To make love stay.