Page 52 of Up in Smoke (The Bunkhouse #3)

TRIPP

“No shit?”

“Yeah,” Monty says with a chuckle. “Pretty cool, huh?”

I smile with the phone pressed to my ear as I walk out of my closet holding Mesa’s overnight bag. It’s light, having just a few of her back-and-forth essentials while we figure out our current living situation.

Most of my stuff is already at her place, but moving out of the bunkhouse has been a slow process. Mesa and I have been procrastinating just like Warren and Savannah still are. I think we’ll always have a room here, even if we officially live somewhere else.

“A six-month chip,” I repeat Monty’s news into the phone. “Yeah, I’d say that’s pretty damn cool.”

I had every intention of never talking to my dad again after our first two encounters. There’s still a bit of tension there, but when he reached out during his twelve-step program, I didn’t have it in me to write him off for good.

Especially not after reading the letter he wrote to me about my mom. It wasn’t easy to get through, and included multiple pages of deep regret and memories. It doesn’t make it all go away, but it gave me the small bit of closure I’d been searching for my entire life.

The new irises he had delivered for Mesa’s garden didn’t hurt, either. I called him after they arrived, and decided right then that I was going to listen to him for as long as he was willing to talk.

Even if it was at a distance.

His court-ordered stay in rehab lasted three months instead of two weeks this time. As far as I can tell, he’s worked diligently to clean up his act and never go back.

We may never be the close father-son duo that I dreamed of as a kid, and some mistakes can never be erased, but he’s still my dad—part of my family. There’s no sense in denying that I care for him and that I’m happy he’s putting in a considerable effort.

“Mesa doing alright?” he asks.

I nod, turning off the lights in my room and heading down the hall. “She’s good. I’ll let her know about your new chip. She’ll be glad to hear about it.”

Monty clears his throat. “I sent some gifts for y’all?—”

“Got ‘em under the tree. You didn’t have to do that, but thank you.”

“Oh, I know. I wanted to. Maybe next year, the three of us can do something for Christmas. Spend a little time together.”

I smile, hearing him include Mesa without hesitation.

Picturing myself during the holidays a year from now is easy. I’ll be on the couch, Mesa’s feet will be in fuzzy socks draped over my lap, and she’ll have a cup of hot chocolate in her hand.

Envisioning the future with her in it is automatic for me. Waiting for the other shoe to drop or worrying about what might happen down the road hasn’t even crossed my mind.

“We’d like that,” I say.

“Me too. Well, I’ll let you go. Just wanted to check in. Merry Christmas, Tripp.”

“Alright. Talk to you soon.” I almost hang up, but decide to end things differently after seeing my girl walk through the front door of the bunkhouse and smile in my direction. “Merry Christmas, Dad.”

I swear I could hear his smile before the line clicks. Mesa is headed right for me, so I toss my phone, and it lands with a soft thud on top of her bag at my feet.

Halfway through the living room, she stops in her tracks. Instead of running up to me with the hug I was hoping for, she’s staring toward the kitchen with an open mouth and terror in her eyes. I turn with a puzzled look.

“The fuck is this?” Heston asks, looking down at a fancy cream-colored envelope.

“It’s nothing,” Gage mumbles, swiftly plucking it from his fingertips.

There’s a stack of unopened mail on the counter next to the fridge, and for a brief moment, Heston shrugs and ruffles through the rest of the pile. I see it the moment he changes his mind. He lifts his head with furrowed brows and spins on his heel.

With three long strides, he’s blocking the entire door to the patio with his massive frame, just before Gage has a chance to yank it open. My eyes narrow on the envelope behind Gage’s back, but he’s too far away for me to read any of the gold cursive lettering.

“Hand it over.” Heston’s jaw muscles tick as he clamps down on his molars.

Gage’s shoulders remain tall and straight, like he’d rather fight than let Heston see whatever that envelope contains.

I was fine sitting back and letting them fight over a stupid piece of mail until Mesa stepped up behind Gage.

As soon as I move toward them, she snatches the envelope from his grip. I’ve no sooner seen a flash of red hair darting out of the kitchen before I’m running after her.

In slippery socks, she didn’t make it far.

“For once, I wish you were slow,” she whines as I cut her off and scoop her up.

My eyes widen as a rock-solid hand lands on my shoulder in the next second. Gage had no chance at holding Heston back, apparently. Once his stupidly big arm invades Mesa’s line of sight, she knows she doesn’t have a prayer in keeping the envelope away from him, either.

Gage blows out a heavy breath and steps up beside me as I lower Mesa to her feet. Heston turns his back on us and looks down at the envelope in silence.

My arm wraps around Mesa, and I lean down to whisper in her ear. “Is this bad?”

She leans into me, still looking at Heston, and nods.

“Maybe you should call the girls and let them know,” Gage says quietly.

I let her go when she spins out of my hold, pulls out her phone, and runs toward my room. Gage and I make quick eye contact.

Heston hasn’t said anything yet, but shredded pieces of paper begin floating to the ground. A card and what’s left of the envelope land at his feet a moment later, and he stalks toward the front door.

“Have you guys seen Savvy? I’ve been looking everywhere. She was just?—”

As Warren walks in from the hallway, his question gets cut off by the door’s deafening slam. He flinches back when the hanging coat rack slides down the wall and crashes to the ground.

“ Jesus ,” Warren scoffs. “What the hell is his problem?”

I move to pick up the torn envelope and card, realizing quickly that it’s a wedding invitation. After spotting Hattie Jo’s name near the top, I don’t bother reading the rest.

Warren’s face turns white when I hand it over so that he can read it for himself. The wrinkle in Gage’s forehead is as stressed as ever, and I inhale deeply through my nose.

“I should go after him,” I say, running a hand through my hair. “Make sure he doesn’t do anything stupid.”

He’s off to get some smokes and a thirty pack, I’m sure.

I hope.

There’s plenty of time to catch him on his way out of the convenience store at the edge of town. We can figure out how to handle a mental breakdown as long as he isn’t on his way to Hattie’s family ranch right now instead.

Mesa returns and slips under my arm. My hand slides around her waist as I think through a plan in my head.

“This is such bad timing,” she says. “But I really need to go home and get ready for my flight in the morning.”

Heston is my best friend, and the only woman he’s ever loved just sent him a personalized invitation to her goddamn wedding. But he’s also a grown man, and my number one priority is currently in my arms with her cheek pressed against my chest.

“I’ll drive you home,” I say with a kiss on the top of her head, then turn to the guys. “You’re going to have to keep him from smashing something and hit me up if shit goes south.”

“We’ll find him,” Gage says, pulling his keys from the bowl on the kitchen island.

Two hours later, I have exactly zero notifications on my phone. If something bad happened, one of them would have called me by now. I shrug and place my phone face down on the nightstand by Mesa’s bed.

She giggles when I roll on top of her and whip the covers over our heads. I scowl through the darkness at the T-shirt she’s wearing, then lift the hem and dip my head underneath it before kissing a trail up her bare stomach.

“Get your head out of my shirt,” she squeals with laughter.

“Mind you, this is my shirt. Little thief,” I mutter against her skin.

Lack of oxygen is the only thing that makes me resurface. Mesa shimmies the front of her shirt down and pushes the covers over my head.

My chin rests on the middle of her chest. Based on the way she was just laughing, I expect to find her smiling down at me. Instead, her eyes are shining with unshed tears. She looks down and lightly runs her fingertips over the chain around my neck.

I prop myself up on my elbows. “What’s wrong, Mace?”

“Nothing. Just having a moment.”

The tiny curve of her closed lips puts me at ease enough to shift my body until I’m lying next to her. I turn her on her side to face me. She tucks a pillow under her cheek while I smooth a hand over her hip beneath the covers.

“What kind of moment?”

She smiles fully now. “An appreciative one.”

My thumb moves up to trace soft lines over the natural curve at her waist.

“You didn’t have to stick around pretending to enjoy putting up Christmas decorations,” she continues. “I talk you into doing all sorts of things you might not like. But you always show up, and you make things so bright when you do.”

“It’s more selfish than you think,” I chuckle. “What we’re doing doesn’t make a difference to me. If I’m not working, and you’re not out of town, I’m always going to want to be with you, honey. I fucking long for it.”

She nods because she already knows this about me. I tell her often enough to make her head spin, I’m sure.

If it sounds clingy, that’s because it is. And I really don’t give a shit. I’m not going to waste any more of my time here on earth away from her if I can help it.

“Dare you to do it forever,” she says.

She’s well aware that I’m madly in love with her, and I’ve told her as much. But we’ve also managed to bask in the blissful ignorance of the present without turning thoughts of the distant future into a real conversation until now.

I look her right in the eye and waste no time responding. “I plan on it.”

“You plan on forever with me?”

“Absolutely, I do.”

“Good,” she whispers. “Thank you for making my life happy. I feel so lucky.”

“You don’t have to thank me. Just love me back.”

I roll to my back when she loops her arms around my neck and seals our lips together. It’s my second favorite feeling in the world, when she lies on me like this and I can hold up her entire weight.

My mouth opens as her tongue slides over mine. She moans and threads her fingers through the hair right behind my ear.

The best feeling in the world comes after she pulls away, and my palms slide up her back beneath her shirt.

“Love you.”

That’s the one. My chest explodes every time I hear her say it. I smirk, pulling her closer so that I can kiss my way from her jaw to her ear.

“I love you,” I say. “I love you.” She squirms on top of me as I bite the side of her neck before repeating myself a third time. “I love you so damn much.”

“ Okay .” She laughs playfully. “I heard you the first time.”

I flip us again until I’m hovering above her. Just before I bend to kiss her neck again, she lifts an eyebrow to stop me.

“You’re just going to keep saying it, aren’t you?”

“Yep.”

Her legs wrap around my waist, and she pulls my hips against hers with force. The tips of her fingers slide beneath the waistband of my briefs on either side, and I drop my forehead to hers.

“If you must,” she jokes.

I kiss her, long and slow, then whisper against her mouth, “I must.”

The End