Page 31

T he Wyoming sun sank low in the sky, casting the Black Heart Ranch in a glimmer of gold. The field just beyond the house had been transformed for the evening event.

Carson and Layne’s wedding preparations began almost the minute the Malones returned safe and sound with Rhae. The past week had been a flurry of activity, and all their hard work paid off.

Rows of white chairs sat in neat formation facing a wooden arch with ivy and cream roses twisting around it. Twinkling strands of Edison bulbs already glowed lightly in the twilight evening. The wind carried the notes of a violinist warming up, along with the scent of roses and fresh-cut hay.

Everything shimmered in a magical wonderland perfect for the eldest Malone and his bride-to-be.

It was unexpectedly elegant for a place known for dusty boots and callused hands, and perfect.

Carson and Layne wanted something small and meaningful, black tie at Layne’s request, and including only their closest friends at Carson’s.

Rhae stood at the edge of the deck in flowing champagne-colored silk that all the bridesmaids were wearing. When Layne shyly came into her office and asked her to be in the wedding, Rhae couldn’t have been more touched.

The light breeze teased at her loose updo, playing with the artful curls framing her face. Her stomach flipped with nerves, but not for the newlyweds. She was happy for them—overjoyed, actually.

But the evening carried a different weight for her…one none of the Malones knew about.

“There you are.” The deep voice stroked her senses, and when she turned to meet Denver’s gray eyes, his gaze caressed her.

He approached in a sharp black tuxedo that shouldn’t have fit his rugged frame so perfectly—but of course, it did. His hair was pushed back with just enough defiance to say I wore the suit, but I’m still me , and the slight rasp of stubble across his jaw made her throat tighten.

“All the guests are here. It won’t be long now.”

“There aren’t many chairs out on the lawn. When you said a small gathering, I didn’t think it would be this small. But of course, Layne doesn’t have many people on her side.” She looked down at her hands linked in front of her, trembling slightly with her nerves. “I don’t even have as many as her.”

He moved in, fingers lifting to brush the curl next to her cheek. “This little curl has a mind of its own.”

She smiled softly, unsure what to say.

“And you’re wrong. You do have family. You have me and Navy…and all the Malones. Whether you want us or not.”

Emotion rose up sharp in her chest. She blinked rapidly. If she ruined her makeup by crying, Willow would kill her, after the hour she spent painstakingly applying it.

He ducked his head to meet her eyes. “You okay? You’re quiet.”

She hesitated. What she had to say would surely bring on a flood of tears.

“If you want to talk about what happened…back at the estate with Ravencroft—”

Surprise washed over her. She shook her head. “No. I wasn’t thinking about that.” She already knew that Justin and Ravencroft were both rotting in jail cells for what they did.

Something unreadable passed through his eyes. Eyes that their daughter shared. “Then what is it?”

She reached for her glittery clutch bag sitting on the deck railing. Her hands trembled harder as she fumbled with the clasp. She pulled out a folded sheet of paper.

When she lifted her gaze to Denver, his stare intensified. “I have a surprise for you.”

He took it, curiosity clear in his expression as he unfolded the page.

Recognition hit immediately.

He blinked, then blinked again. His throat clicked when he struggled to swallow down the emotion.

“Navy’s birth certificate,” he said slowly.

She nodded. “I had it updated. You’re listed now. As her father.”

His hands tightened around the paper. “But how? I’m not alive on paper. Unless…”

She nodded. “You are now. You’re not a ghost anymore. Instead of un-alived, you’re re-alived. So I had her last name officially changed.”

His eyes slipped shut, and he gripped the paper tighter, as if afraid he’d drop it or all that it meant would go up in smoke. “I’m officially Navy’s father.”

“You always were, Denver. But now it’s real in every way.” Her throat clamped off, and the tears swam in her eyes. She held them wider, hoping the breeze would dry them out before her makeup got ruined.

“This… Rhae, this means so damn much to me.”

He stared down at the paper as if seeing something sacred. He was silent for a long beat, then he folded the paper and slipped it into the inside pocket of his tux jacket.

“You gave me more than a surprise.” His voice was hoarse. “You gave me a life back.”

Her throat ached at the passion in his voice.

He cupped her face, pressing a slow, deep kiss to her lips that seemed to anchor them both to the earth. When he pulled away, his thumb brushed over her lower lip like he didn’t want to let go.

“I have something for you too,” he murmured.

Her eyes widened slightly. “You do?”

He reached into his tux pocket again and pulled out a small black velvet box.

Her breath stalled.

He opened it.

Inside sat a delicate ring—an oval diamond set in a vintage-style band, flanked by two smaller stones. Not oversized. Not flashy. Just beautiful.

Rhae’s knees almost gave out.

“I know this isn’t traditional,” he said quietly. “And maybe the timing is crazy. But I’ve never been more certain of anything. I love you. I love our daughter. I want to build a life together, not just exist in one.”

“Denver…”

“I’m not asking for a perfect future. Just ours . Messy, real, beautiful. Will you marry me?”

Tears sprang to her eyes. Her heart swelled, bursting against her ribs.

“Yes,” she whispered, then louder, with a watery laugh. “Yes. Hell yes.”

He grinned and slipped the ring onto her finger. It fit perfectly.

She stared down at it in wonder, then looked back up to find his eyes blazing with heat.

“You’ve never been in my room, have you?” He pitched his voice low.

She blinked, caught off guard. “What?”

“I need five minutes with you. Maybe ten.”

“What—Denver, the wedding—”

“We still have time. It won’t start for fifteen minutes. No one will notice. Come on.” He pulled on her hand. “Call it…an early wedding gift.”

Laughing breathlessly, she followed him.

Denver’s room was tucked at the end of the house. As he led her down the corridor, family photos that she longed to stop and look at flashed by. Another time, she would come and see them all. Now that she was family too—that ring on her finger officially made her part of it—she could do that.

Inside his room, the bed was made military-tight. The curtains were drawn against the fading light. And everything smelled good, like cedar, clean linen…and him.

She caught sight of the shelf filled with helmets, medals and old trophies of gold men clutching footballs.

“You played football?” she asked.

“Linebacker.” He huffed a laugh. “Didn’t help my head. Took too many hits on the field.”

She fixed her stare on a shiny bronze plaque. “You were good.”

“Could have had a full-ride scholarship. I chose the military instead.” He shook his head. “Didn’t matter anyway. Concussions sent me out of the military before I was ready.” He tugged at his bowtie—not his dog tags—and pulled it off. “That led me here. To you. To Navy. I’d trade it all for that.”

Her heart squeezed.

He touched her, a hand on the small of her back, warm and strong, bringing her closer.

The air changed, became charged.

His fingers roamed up the zipper along her spine. “You wore this dress to kill me,” he growled.

“You wore that tux to tempt me.”

He kissed her hard, backing her toward the bed as she attacked the buttons of his jacket and tore it off his shoulders. Then his shirt, revealing steely muscle.

The zipper moving down her spine sent tingles to every corner of her body. She shrugged her shoulders, letting the gown slip off them to pool around her high heels.

She reached for his belt and fly, hungry for that stiff length bulging against his pants. When she reached his erection, wrapping her fingers around it, her gasp mingled with his groan.

“How many minutes now?” she whispered urgently against his chest, already gliding to her knees. That damn tormenting dimple in his cheek had her pussy flooding with want.

But he caught her arms and pulled her up. “Not that kind of time.” His eyes burned into hers for a split second before he claimed her lips again. He lifted her, and they fell to the bed.

As his body came down over hers, he let out a rasp. “I’ll never get enough of you.”

“Then take me.” With one hand, she worked her panties down and off one high-heel. She parted her legs, wrapping them around his muscled hips.

And he looked into her eyes and joined them in one swift, thorough, filling thrust.

Every stroke tightened the knot of lust in her core. Every brush of his mouth over hers ignited passion as bright as the first bonfire that rekindled their relationship.

He grasped her hip, pulling her up, into him, deepening every plunge of his cock inside her slick heat. The hunger inside him exploded out of control. She’d never seen Denver like this, so out of his head with passion and need.

It spurred her to the peak, and her release struck. Her mouth opened on an O of bliss. Then Denver issued a rumble, and he was fitting his cock so deep as streamers of cum bathed her inner walls, over and over.

It was the kind of heat that healed scars. In both of them.

When their need was slaked—for now, at least—he lifted a muscled arm and glanced at his watch. He gave her a sexy, lazy smile. “Seven minutes. Gives us three to get dressed.”

He performed a pushup to stand at the side of the bed, one hand extended to her.

She took it, and he hauled her up. In a rushed flurry, they dressed again, helping each other with zippers and buttons. As he worked nimbly at his bowtie, Rhae looked in his mirror, attempting to smooth her hair.