Page 71 of When I Should’ve Stayed (Red Bridge #2)

Everything is coming up fucking roses these days.

Josie and I bought the five-acre plot of land behind Rose’s old house, so that Josie doesn’t feel pressured to sell it and we can easily keep it maintained .

We’re in the middle of building a house on our new land.

And today, on the anniversary of our first wedding day, my wife is going to marry me again in front of our nearest and dearest.

It doesn’t get any better than that.

Well, technically, only one more thing needs to happen to make it all perfect…

“You excited?” she asks, and I nod, looking up toward the sky for the water tower that’s moments away from coming into view.

“Very excited,” I mutter, and she asks me another question, but I’m too busy looking at the water tower to hear.

That water tower is a huge part of Josie’s and my story, and I enlisted the help of a few boys from town to create something special for my wife.

Since we’re having our wedding in the town square, Josie will be able to see the water tower from the altar, and there was no way I could let the opportunity pass without capitalizing.

I’d planned on staying with them and seeing it through, but I had to leave it in their hands to pick up Breezy.

I guess it should be noted that I didn’t get permission from the city council or Mayor Wallace, but I’ll deal with their grumbling afterward.

I lean forward over my steering wheel, squinting as I read the words I told Chet’s painting crew to write.

Clay loves José

What the fuck? I blink several times and read it again.

Clay loves José

“Are you fucking kidding—” I start to shout, but Breezy’s scream stops me mid-sentence.

“Oh my God! Watch out!”

I dart my eyes back to the road, and that’s when I see it. One sheep, standing in the middle of the road, the rest of his flock in the grass. Holy fuck! I grip the steering wheel and slam on the brakes, and my truck skids across the gravel, smoke billowing up around us.

The sheep doesn’t move a fucking inch, until my truck comes to a stop but just barely bumps the side of it.

It falls over. Just fucking falls over, onto the road, and Breezy jumps out of the car on a scream. “Oh my God! The sheep!”

I hop out of the driver’s door and run around the car to find Breezy on her knees, her hands frantically checking the sheep for injuries.

“Clay! He’s not really moving!”

Trust me, I am the first person to help injured animals, but I know for a fact that my bumper barely touched this sheep. I can also see that his eyes are open and he’s blinking them.

“I think he’s just a little shocked, Breeze. Probably just needs a minute or two to get his bearings again.”

But a minute or two and then five pass by, and Breezy’s panic grows. “I think something’s wrong with him. I think we need to get him to a hospital.”

“No, no,” I refute. No offense to the sheep, but I’m getting married today, not sitting at a vet hospital for hours. Not to mention, I’ve got a water tower that says I love José. This sheep is going to have to figure his shit out and figure it out fast.

“C’mon, little buddy,” I encourage, kneeling down to slide my hands under his side. “Time to get up now and head back to your farm. Probably also time for your owner Tad to figure out how to fucking sheep farm.”

I swear, Tad Hanson’s sheep spend more time off his land than they do on it.

He’s the worst sheep farmer who ever lived.

Just ask Bennett; his and Norah’s property is right beside Tad’s.

I guess it makes sense, given this wasn’t his intended career path by a long shot, but that’s a story for a whole different fucking day.

Definitely a day other than my wedding day.

“Clay, I’m worried about him,” Breezy whispers, as if the sheep can actually understand her. “I think he might be hurt.”

I nudge the sheep again. “C’mon, little guy. Let’s get moving.” When I look to either side of the road, I see that the rest of his flock is just standing there, staring at us. “A little help would be nice,” I call toward them. “Mind giving your friend here a little support?”

But they do fuck all, and the sheep doesn’t move from his spot on the road.

“Help me pick him up,” Breezy says. “We need to at least take him back to his owner.”

“Excuse me?” I question, and she glares at me.

“We can’t leave him here for dead, Clay! We need to at least take him home!”

Fucking hell.

“Fine,” I mutter. “But we gotta hurry because I’ve got plans today. You know, to get married.”

“I know, I know,” she says, nodding as she squats down to put her hands under the sheep’s side. “Did you say Tad’s his owner?”

“Yeah.” When I see how awkwardly Breezy is trying to pick up this sheep, I gently nudge her out of the way and lift the heavy fucker into my arms. “Get the door,” I grunt out and she runs ahead of me to open the door to the back cab.

The sheep just sits there, in my arms, eyes blinking. He lets out a few mewls, but other than that, he just chills. Either this fucker is playing games with me or he’s actually injured. I honestly don’t know what.

By the time I get him loaded in, I’m sweaty and panting and silently cursing Tad Hanson’s name.

“Where is Tad’s place?” Breezy asks as I start the engine.

“You don’t know where Tad lives? You invited him to fucking Thanksgiving six years ago!”

She shakes her head.

“He lives right next to Bennett and Norah.”

“Really?” she asks, and I just shrug, my mind solely focused on getting this goddamn sheep to Tad’s farm as quick as I can, so I have enough time to climb up that goddamn water tower and strangle every painter on Chet’s team before I make them fix my love for José.

And then, you know, get to the altar to marry the woman of my dreams.

It takes me a good ten minutes to get to Tad’s farm, and I just lay my hand on the horn as I escort his sheep back to his property. The rest of his sheep are still out there somewhere, but fucking hell, I don’t have time to get them home too.

Tad steps out of his front door as I come to a skidding stop in front of his house. And when I look in my rearview mirror, I’m highly suspicious of how goddamn comfortable that sheep looks with the AC blowing on his relaxed face.

Breezy is the first to get out, and she runs up to the house to explain the situation.

I hop out of the driver’s seat and open the door to the back cab to get the sheep out. I’m carrying the chill bastard up toward Tad’s house when he and Breezy meet me halfway.

“I’m really worried about him,” Breezy says in a rush. “I think you should get a doctor here to see him.”

“Don’t worry.” Tad puts a gentle hand to her shoulder. “I’m sure he’ll be okay.” When he gets a good look at the sheep I’m still fucking holding, sweating like a pig as I do, a small smile forms on Tad’s stupid face.

“That’s Crosby,” Tad updates. “He has a bit of a history of faking injuries to get attention.”

I glare at Tad, and he’s smart enough to take Crosby from me.

“You mean he’s faking?” Breezy questions, a hand going to her lips, a relieved laugh scooting out of her lungs. “He’s okay?”

Tad smiles at her the way I see Tad smile at all the women in Red Bridge, and Breezy gets the same smiley, doe-eyed look on her face when he does it. I don’t know what it is about this sheep farmer—who clearly can’t sheep farm—but women fucking love him.

Eileen Martin does monthly interviews with him for the newspaper, and it isn’t because there’s new shit to tell. It’s because she likes staring at his handsome face for hours while she gets him to talk about God only knows what.

“Okay, great!” I exclaim and clap my hands. “Crosby’s good. And we need to skedaddle.” When Breezy doesn’t make a move to leave, she and Tad still smiling at each other, I put both hands on her shoulders and gently nudge her in the direction of my truck.

It’s time for me to go marry my wife…again. And, you know, make sure everyone knows her name isn’t José.

…

Josie

It’s official. I am Clay Harris’s wife…again. And I don’t think I’ve ever been this happy in my entire life.

Actually, I know I haven’t.

I spot my husband across the bar. He’s standing beside Marty and his wife, smiling and chatting with them both. God, I love that man.

I don’t know how long I stand there staring at him, but eventually, his eyes meet mine from across the room, and the sexiest kind of smile spreads across his mouth. And it only takes a minute more for him to excuse himself from the conversation with Marty and Sheila and come traipsing over to me.

He pulls me into his arms and presses a slow, deep, delicious kiss to my lips. At one point, he makes a show of dipping me back dramatically. I laugh against his persistent mouth, but I also love every single fucking second of it all.

This is Clay. He’s playful and funny and charismatic and loving and adorable and sexy and all the damn things.

He’s larger-than-life. And he’s the yin to my yang.

The other half of my heart and soul.

It’s a wonder I managed to live without him for all those years. It’s a wonder I managed to survive, but I did, and now, here we are, wrapped up in each other after saying “I do” again mere hours ago.

This is our happily-ever-after, and I don’t expect it to be perfect and I don’t expect it to be without hard times.

But I do know that we’ll be together in all the good times and the bad.

And that is something to celebrate. That is something to hold on to tightly with both hands and be thankful for.

When Clay finally sets me back on my feet, he wraps his arm around my shoulders, tucking me close to his side. He offers me a sip of his beer while we both look around the room, at everyone who has shown up for us. Everyone we love and adore.

My eyes catch sight of Breezy, and I furrow my brow a little when I see that she’s currently over by the pool tables chatting with Tad Hanson. Clay follows my focus, and a soft chuckle leaves his throat.

“By the way, picking Breezy up from the airport was quite the ordeal.”

I look up at him.

“I accidentally ran into one of Tad’s sheep.”

My eyes nearly bug out of my head. “What?”

“I barely hit the fucker. Crosby. Apparently, he fakes injuries. But Breezy freaked out and made us drive him to Tad’s farm. It was a whole debacle.”

“Was this before or after you had the water tower painted to show how much you love José?” I question, and Clay lets out a deep sigh.

“I swear to God,” Clay mutters, “I might murder Chet. I really might.”

“And I think I want to kiss him.”

Clay’s brow furrows. “Excuse me, woman?”

“That was the funniest thing I’ve ever seen in my life, Clay,” I admit through a fit of giggles when I remember how damn nervous my husband looked when he saw my eyes make contact with the water tower.

“It might’ve been the best part of the ceremony.

You know, besides all the lovey-dovey ‘I do’ shit. ”

“Lovey-dovey ‘I do’ shit,” he says through an amused chuckle. “Damn, wife , stop being so romantic or else I might start crying.”

I laugh at that. And he just leans forward to press a kiss to my lips.

“Love you, Josie. Love you so much,” he breathes into my hair.

“Love you too.”

We go back to people watching, both of us laughing over Pete’s dance moves for a good ten minutes, but when I see my sister and Bennett and baby Autumn cuddled together as Bennett sways Autumn back and forth, my heart soars and my eyes move back to my husband.

“Clay?”

“Yeah, baby?” he questions, looking down at me.

“What do you think about adoption?”

A soft expression overcomes his face. “You mean, us adopting a child so we can give them a loving mom and a loving dad?”

I nod.

“Count me in.”

“Yeah.” I smile then. “Count me in, too.”

Some might say this is our happily-ever-after, but I’d call it our happily-ever-forever.

And man, I can’t wait to see where our love takes us.

The love doesn’t end here…

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