by A. J. Pine
He pressed the button and held his breath. Here went everything.
Seconds later, a light went on behind the door, and even through the rain, he could hear the tumbler of the dead bolt as it was unlocked. Then the door flew open, and there was Jenna Owens—blond hair piled on her head in her signature bun, a thin, white cotton tank covering her torso above a pair of pink shorts.
She blinked a few times, her blue eyes groggy with sleep.
“Colt?” she said, confused. Then she took in the sight of him. “Oh my God, Colt. Get inside. You’ll catch your death out there.”
He shook his head. “Not yet,” he said. Then he lifted his phone where he had “Can’t Take My Eyes Off of You” by Frankie Valli and the Four Seasons cued up. She’d made it clear to him that this was the only song worthy of winning her back, should he ever have to do so, and he had to. Right here. Right now.
“I’m sorry I don’t have a marching band,” was all he said before he hit PLAY and sang along, terribly, telling her how he loved her and needed her, that she most definitely was too good to be true.
She stood there staring at him with her hands over her mouth and her eyes brimming with tears, and God, he hoped that was a good sign. That they were happy tears.
He belted out every word from the chorus until the end of the song. There wasn’t any room to dance like Heath Ledger had in the movie, but he hoped it was enough.
When the song ended, she was still in her open doorway, silently staring, mouth still covered so he couldn’t see if she was hiding a smile or a frown.
“You told me you wanted me to find someone who could give me everything, Jenna. And what I should have told you right then and there was that the only definition of everything was the one that included you. I thought I knew exactly what I wanted out of my future, but that was before you existed in my life.” He blew out a breath. “You lost your sister to cancer,” he said. It wasn’t a question.
Tears spilled from Jenna’s eyes, and she dropped her hands from her mouth. “I never said…” She trailed off, but then she nodded.
“I was so tangled up in what the news about your surgery meant for us as a couple—for me and what I thought I wanted—that I didn’t even ask why.” He knew enough about the genetics of cancer, especially when it came to the strains of the disease that affected women, that when he’d finally had a minute to think straight, it all made sense. “You carry the gene, don’t you?”
She nodded again.
“Jesus, Jenna. I was so damned selfish.” he said. He wouldn’t blame her if she never forgave him for walking away like he had that morning in the hospital. He should have fought to stay. Maybe it was too little too late, but he was fighting now. “But here’s the thing. The why doesn’t matter. What matters is that you’re here. That you exist in the world and that if I’m not too late, you’ll exist in my world too.”
“I love you, Colt,” she said. “But I can’t ask you to give up being a father. Even if you know why I did it, it doesn’t change what you want. It doesn’t change that one day you might resent me for what you gave up. And I could never live with that.”
“But—” he started. He wanted to tell her that he could still be a father. With her. That there were options he hadn’t considered before because before—before, there was no Jenna.
She shook her head.
“Come inside. Please,” she said. “It’s cold and you’re soaked and—I need to show you something.”
Because he was soaked and starting to realize he was shivering, he obliged.
She closed the door behind him, and then left him standing there dripping on her rug. She ran to the coffee table that was in the living room just off the entrance and grabbed a stack of papers before pivoting and striding back to him, a scared yet expectant look on her face.
She laughed nervously. “Here.” She handed him a sheaf of papers. “This is what I’ve been working on since the second I got home this morning.”
He didn’t need to see what was beyond the first page because on top of the pile was a cover letter she’d written to the state of California—to become a foster parent. He squinted without his glasses but was able to make out the rest.
Colt’s stomach tied in knots and his throat tightened as he read about her experience becoming a guardian to Jack, Luke, and Walker, as he read on to where she mentioned her latest inspiration for wanting to foster—a nameless boy who got knocked down by the system but was then given a second chance with a family who helped him become the amazing man he was today.
She’d made this decision in part because of him.
“I do want to be a mother,” she said. “You and Delaney and my own nephews taught me that. I want to be a mother to kids who bounce from house to house because others deem them too old to adopt. I want to keep siblings from getting separated like you and Willow did. I want my house to be a home to kids—”
“Like me,” he said, barely able to get the words out. He wanted a house filled with kids. He wanted a family so big that the house would never be empty. As foster parents, they could give safety and stability to as many children as they were able. They could give them a home. “This is it,” he added. “Our definition of family. This is what I didn’t want to tell you over the phone or text. This is why I had to come here, Jenna. I didn’t think—I mean, I hoped…” He shook his head and exhaled a trembling breath.
She let out a hiccuping sob. “You want to do this with me?” she asked.
“God, yes, Jenna. I want to do everything with you. Everything.” He took a step forward and cradled her cheeks in his hands. “You didn’t let me finish before. What you did six years ago? It’s likely because of that decision that you’re here right now. That I got the chance to meet you. That I have the goddamned privilege to be the man who gets to love you. A world with you in it is what matters. A world where we get to have the family we’re meant to have, the future we both want.”
“But…” she said. “But it’s only been two weeks. And…And I live here, and you live there, and…”
He grinned. “Okay. So maybe there’s a certain chronology to all of this. But we were never good at doing things in order. We can figure it out each step of the way. Together.”
She launched herself into his muddy arms, wrapping her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist.
“The forms!” he said.
“We’ll print new ones,” she said laughing. “But one thing about that everything before I kiss you something fierce.”
“You name it, Texas.”
She bit her lip. “Leave the singing to your sister?”
He threw back his head and laughed, then looked at the half-muddied woman in his arms, the woman he loved.
“And here I thought you didn’t date younger men,” he teased.
She dropped the papers onto the floor and placed her muddy palms on his cheeks.
“I don’t,” she said. “I fall in love with them.”
He raised his brows. “Them?”
She laughed. “I guess we’ll never know. Because I fell in love with the first one who came my way, and I’m a goner from here on out.”
“That’s more like it. Now…about that kissing me something fierce?”
She squeezed her legs around his waist, and even though he was cold and wet and covered from head to toe in mud—again—heat coursed through him when this woman was in his arms.
She dipped her head, her lips a breath away from his. “I’m going to do a whole lot more than kiss you, cowboy.”
He let loose a soft growl. “Can we start that whole lot more in the shower? I seem to be covered in mud once again.”
She nipped at his bottom lip. “Make a left at the kitchen. It’s the first door on the right.”
With her still in his arms, Colt managed to toe off his boots without dropping her or sending them both tumbling to her ceramic-tiled floor. He was just that adept when he was ass-over-elbow in love.
He kissed her hard, a
nd she writhed against him.
“Left at the kitchen,” he said, repeating her words as he began to move.
“And first door on the right,” she said, breathless.
He piloted her to what turned out to be her bedroom and then to the connected bathroom. She slapped at the wall until a light went on and he could see the small but cozy space—a rustic wooden vanity against gray shiplap walls, a black-and-white-patterned tile along the floor. The shower/bathtub combo boasted dual showerheads, one on each end of the tub.
He slid her down to her feet and took a moment to let his eyes simply drink her in.
Sure, her top was smeared with mud, as was the tip of her nose and her cheek. The whites of her eyes were now pink, hopefully from tears that were happy rather than sad because right here, right now, in this bathroom, Colt Morgan was the happiest he’d ever been.
“What?” she said, then she wiggled her nose. “Do I have something on my face?”
He laughed. She knew she was almost as much of a mess as he was.
“You’re so beautiful,” he said.
She rolled her eyes. “Have you seen me lately?”
He shrugged. “I don’t need to see you to know. Don’t you get it? Mud-splattered or squeaky-clean, you will forever have the power to knock the air clean from my lungs.”
He lifted the hem of her tank and pulled it over her head. Then he kissed each of her free-from-mud breasts. Not that he would have refrained had the situation been otherwise.
She sucked in a breath as he lowered himself to his knees. He saw them now, the tiny scars above each hip, barely visible unless you knew they were there.
“You’re staring,” she said, a nervous tremor in her voice.
“Because they’re as beautiful as you are,” he said.
He brushed soft kisses over one and then the other, and he heard her breathing hitch. Then he looked up, his eyes locking on hers.
“Thank you,” he said. “For doing what you had to do so you could be with me now, and tomorrow, and all the days you’re willing to put up with me. I love you, Jenna.”
She nodded, her expression breaking into a smile that lit up his entire world.
Then he lowered her shorts and panties in one swift move and properly worshipped the woman who saw fit to give him a second chance.
After that came a long, hot shower—together—and after that, Jenna showed him to her bed.
She knelt over him, her hands braced on either side of his head.
“There is one benefit to my—um—situation,” she said, her wet hair curtaining her face.
He grinned at her. “You mean aside from you being healthy and alive, which is all the benefit I need?”
She raised her brows. “I can’t get pregnant.”
“I know,” he said. “And I promise I’m okay with that, Jenna. You don’t have to worry—”
“You’re not listening,” she interrupted, and her blue eyes locked on his, heavy with need. “I. Can’t. Get. Pregnant.” She dipped her hips toward him, letting him nudge her opening, and his eyes widened with recognition.
Then he nodded, and that was all the warning she gave him before sinking over him, burying him to the hilt, until he didn’t know where he ended and she began.
“I love you, Colt Morgan,” she whispered in his ear.
“Love you more, Texas.”
The rain pounded, and lightning lit up the dark room from time to time, but neither of them seemed to notice. Maybe, subconsciously, Jenna knew. She didn’t need to be afraid anymore because Colt would always be there for her. Loving her. Spending every single day reminding her of that very fact.
The storm let up before dawn, and Colt lay on his side with Jenna’s head on her shoulder, her legs still entwined with his.
“Are you asleep?” Jenna asked groggily, her eyes closed.
“No,” he admitted.
“Are you staring at me?” she asked, eyes still shut and a smile spreading across her face.
“Busted,” he said with a grin.
“Go to sleep,” she said, feigned admonishment in her voice.
But he was afraid that if he did actually take his eyes off her, he’d wake and find out it wasn’t real. He’d spent far too long telling himself that this kind of happiness wasn’t for him; convincing himself that he could survive just fine choosing contentment over the real deal. But now that he knew what the real deal was, he feared it could all go away as quickly as it had come to him.
She squeezed her body tightly around his and sighed, her eyes fluttering open.
“I’m not going anywhere,” she said, as if she could read his thoughts. “And you’re going to need your rest so you can come with me tomorrow to tell my nephews I’m going to sell the farm and take that job with Dr. Murphy in Meadow Valley.” She let out a nervous laugh. “It will take some time for me to get everything in order here. So we may be commuting for a while. But I’m all in, cowboy. If that’s what you want.”
He kissed her forehead, then buried his face in her hair.
“Yes,” he whispered.
They stayed like this for several long moments, the only sound that of their soft exhales and inhales. Then, somewhere outside the house, he heard a loud, satisfied squawk.
They both laughed.
“I guess Lucy wasn’t off her game after all,” Jenna said. “I was.”
He kissed her, long and slow, until they’d both had their fill and his shoulders finally relaxed and his eyes grew heavy.
“I can’t wait to get you home,” he said softly.
“I can’t wait to be home,” Jenna said. “With you.”
Epilogue
Jenna kicked the snow off her boots before opening the door to the coop. As soon as she stepped inside, she dropped to a squat in the hay waiting for Lucy to break free from the group to come and greet her. But after several seconds and no Lucy, she stepped gently through the bedding, which was framed by small hay bales, to her chicken—and the rest of Dr. Murphy’s brood.
“I see how it is,” she said, watching her golden-feathered Lucy play hide-and-seek with a snippet of bedding while Judith, a black-and-white Plymouth hen, chased after her to find it. But even though she’d been rebuffed by her longtime companion, Jenna couldn’t help but smile. She’d worried most about Lucy adjusting to the move. Well, that and how Jack, Luke, and Walker would take her leaving.
“Are you kidding?” Jack had said when she’d told him first. “After all you’ve done for us, you think we’d be anything but supportive of you finally living your life for you? We’ll miss the hell out of you, but it’s just a six-hour drive.”
“Or an hour in a really tiny airplane,” she’d said. “Which, by the way, I’m never doing again.”
They’d hugged each other hard, and there had been tears on both ends. But Jack was only half right. She hadn’t been living her life only for her nephews. She loved her family more than anything, and taking care of them had been one of her greatest joys. It had simply been time for more joy, and that had come in the way of a certain slightly younger cowboy called Colt Morgan.
She freshened the hens’ water and cleaned up the bedding just in time for her phone to ring. She grinned when she saw the name on the screen—COLT—accompanied by the photo she’d taken of him after falling in the mud at Maggie and Robert’s house on the day they’d met.
“Hey handsome,” she answered.
He laughed. “Almost,” he said. “Just picked up my suit and stopping by Ivy’s to grab your dress. What did you need me to ask her for again?”
Jenna shook her head with a grin. “She said she found you a pocket square that matches my clutch, which she also has. So don’t forget to grab the dress, the clutch, and the pocket square.”
“Remind me what a clutch is again?” he asked.
She was the one to laugh this time. “A small purse that you clutch in your hand.”
“When you say you…”
“I mean the collective you, not th
at you, Colt Morgan, will be clutching my clutch tonight.”
“This conversation—”
“Is turning into the Who’s on first? of wedding prep,” she said. “I’m just finishing up with the hens and I’ll be home to shower before heading to the bride’s room to get ready with the rest of the women.”
“I love it when you call our suite at the guesthouse home,” he said.
She loved it even more that he was working nights and weekends—and letting her help—building them a real home they would fill with their family. Come the first of the year, the house would most likely be done. Then all they had to do was wait for a call from the local foster care facility saying they were going to meet their first child.
“As long as you’re there, it’s home,” she said.
“Should I wait for you to shower?” he asked, and she could hear the mischief in his voice. “I could help you reach all those hard-to-reach spots.”
Heat coiled in her belly just thinking about the spots she’d love him to reach.
“I’ll be there in twenty,” she said. “You better be back from Ivy’s, and you better be wearing a hell of a lot less clothes than you are right now.”
“Love you. Bye,” he said quicker than she’d ever heard him speak. And then he ended the call.
“Squawk!” Lucy said, finally acknowledging Jenna’s presence.
“I see how it is, girl. Colt’s your favorite now, huh?” She shrugged. “Can’t say I blame you.” He was her favorite too.
She finished up in the coop, then trudged through the fresh powder over to the veterinary clinic. Inside, Dr. Eli Murphy stood behind the front desk, bent over the phone. Jenna grinned when she saw her framed photo of Eli’s farm on the wall in the waiting area, the first photo she’d snapped of the farm once it was part of her new home.
“I understand. Thank you. Look forward to hearing from you soon.” He hung up the phone and groaned.
“Still no one to work the desk?” she asked.
