“You’ll know soon,” I said, my smile widening in response to the one that stretched across her face.
“That’s true—oh!” she gasped. “Before I forget, Nathan said to tell you ‘hi.’”
I thought for a moment before asking, “Who?”
“Nathan—” She sighed and cut an expectant look at Beau before clarifying, “The vulture.”
“I told her,” he said unapologetically.
“Right, no, I knew he visited. I just didn’t remember his name,” I said quickly. “I think it’s nice that he’s still volunteering to come when he has no intention of doing anything about the ranch.”
She made a humming sound that was pure hesitation, her gaze darting around before falling to where she was picking pieces off the twist.
“Rae . . .”
She put the pieces down and met my stare. “You know your house? Not this one,” she amended quickly, “the one you grew up in—next to the Dixons’?”
I quickly glanced to Beau when her tone had unease settling in my stomach. “Yeah?”
“I don’t know if you knew, but the people who bought it from your parents have always told that developing company that they would sell their property when Hunter sold his land. I think because they knew Hunter wouldn’t, but I’m not sure.”
“I didn’t know that,” I said as my unease grew.
Because if they’d changed their minds and sold, and if that company started building something right next to the Dixon land and orchard, it would already start changing everything about our town.
“Well, Nathan got a call from one of the owners of the company last night.”
“They’re selling it?” Beau ground out.
Rae’s hands lifted as she hurried to go on. “They called the company first to see what they would offer before putting their house on the market, and Nathan was told to go out there before he left. And he did. This morning.”
Beau mumbled a curse as Rae continued.
“But it’s Nathan, so he told them their property was worthless without the Dixon land and made them a horrifically low offer that he knew they wouldn’t accept. But . . .” She released a shaky breath and said, “I want to know if it’d be okay with you if Sawyer and I bought it.”
A shocked laugh punched from my lungs. “What?”
“Sawyer keeps saying it isn’t a big deal, but that’s the house you grew up in, and I don’t know how you’d feel about that,” she rambled quickly. “I don’t know if that’s weird or absolutely not okay—I’m not familiar with these things.”
“Rae,” I said softly and waited until she’d taken another calming breath. “I’d much rather y’all be in that house than anyone else. Especially people who would sell it to a company that would destroy it.”
“Are you sure?”
“I’m positive.” I gestured off to the side. “I know my parents will say the same. But you didn’t need to ask, that hasn’t been my house for a long time.”
She looked at me helplessly. “Seeing how protective everyone has been with Hunter’s house and the land is the first family-attachment experience I’ve had with a house. I just didn’t want to do anything that would upset you.”
“You won’t, I promise.”
“I told you,” Sawyer said as he came back into the kitchen, carrying a toolbox. “By the way, we’re buying your old house before someone else can,” he told me with a cheeky grin. With a kiss to Rae’s shoulder, he continued through the kitchen and followed Beau outside.
“So, you’re buying a house,” I said softly as I placed the clear lid on the display case and then carefully carried it over to the other counter. “In Amber, Texas.” Smiling at her once I had the pastries where I wanted them, I added, “And you married a terribly stubborn Dixon.”
“I did,” she said, joy lighting her expression.
“When you showed up here a year ago, I would’ve never guessed any of that would be in the future for y’all. But I’m so glad for it—all of it. You’re perfect for him and this family, Rae.”
The corners of her mouth tipped up shakily, and she looked away, still clearly uncomfortable when anyone mentioned family and her. But it was different than how she’d been a year ago.
Not as haunting.
Not pushing her into fight-or-flight in an instant.
Slowly getting more and more used to the idea of having a family—of letting people love her.
“I have something for you, and I hope it’s okay,” I said as I hurried to the other side of the kitchen and grabbed the small box I’d stashed away, my tone all understanding and encouragement when I faced her again. “I understand if it isn’t.”
She straightened and carefully set her features into her impenetrable mask when I set it on the island beside me. “Okay.”
“When I was growing up, my mom had this necklace that I loved,” I began. “I used to play with it all the time when I was a kid, and I always tried to sneak off with it in the rare times she took it off, as if she wouldn’t know it was missing.” Sorting through the necklaces I wore, I found the chain I was looking for and pulled out the large locket from beneath my shirt. “On my wedding day, she gave it to me.”
“It’s beautiful,” Rae said, voice still somewhat guarded as she held the oval shape in her hand, looking at the engraved whorls and flowers.
“She told me her mom had given it to her on her wedding day, and if I was lucky enough to have a daughter, I could do the same.” The corner of my mouth tugged up as I grasped the metal. “And the best part?”
Opening the locket, I carefully turned it over so the three pieces of folded up paper fell into my palm.
“Love notes?” she asked, a hint of a tease weaving through.
“Not exactly.” I smoothed out one of the small papers and turned it so it was facing Rae. “This is my mom’s.”
“His voice,” she read aloud, then looked at me in question.
A snort left me as I opened the oldest paper. “My grandma—who, by the way, repeatedly hit my knuckles with a wooden spoon because of the sinful things I’d done with a young and devilishly handsome Beau Dixon—wrote this one.”
“His bottom.” Rae looked at me, eyes wide and amused, before a laugh escaped her. “What are these?”
“What first attracted us to our husbands,” I explained as I opened up mine.
“His—” She paused and then let out a sigh as her stare shifted to mine, smile soft and wistful.
His heart.
“I love that,” she whispered.
“Yeah.” I echoed her tone as I carefully folded up the papers and placed them back in the locket. Once it was shut, I reached for the box beside me. “Rae, I know your family was terrible and things with your mom—well . . . I love that you found our family,” I said simply.
Her head shifted subtly, all that unease bleeding through.
“I hope over time, we can show you what family is supposed to be like, but I know it won’t make up for what you went through. Anyway,” I said as I handed her the gift, “I was at the boutique about a month ago, and I saw these—they just started selling them.”
Rae lifted the top of the box and stilled when she saw the necklace. The large silver locket that was nearly the same size and shape as mine, with swirls etched into the metal that made them look nearly identical.
“And now that you’re my sister too, I wanted to give you this so you could start the tradition in your family, if you wanted.”
For long moments, she just stared at the necklace before her head slowly lifted, tears clinging heavily to her eyelashes and slipping down her cheeks.
“I don’t . . .” Her head shook slowly as she pressed her lips into a firm line. “Savannah, I don’t know what to say.”
“You don’t have to say anything,” I assured her. “If it makes you uncomfortable, you don’t even have to take it.”
“I want it,” she hurried to say. “I want it—thank you. Can I put it on?” The question was all uncertainty as sh
e held the box in front of her like she had no idea what to do with something like that.
“Of course.”
I took the box from her when she got the necklace out and watched as awe tugged at her mouth once she had it hanging around her neck and was cradling the locket in her palm.
“Open it,” I suggested casually.
Her glassy stare darted to mine before falling back to her hands as she carefully opened the locket. A breathless laugh leaving her when a blank strip of paper fell out.
“Well, Ms. New-York-Times-Bestselling-Author,” I said as I stepped away to grab a pen, “what first attracted you to your husband?”
She rolled her eyes as she accepted the pen. “It’s nothing as romantic as his heart, I’ll tell you that.” Taking the cap off, she leaned over the island but paused with the tip of the pen to the paper. Her bottom lip caught between her teeth as her stare drifted to the side, a muted laugh shaking her shoulders. “You know, until this moment, I was sure it was his eyes or his dimples,” she said as she wrote something down and then handed the pen back to me.
“That family and their dimples,” I whispered.
Rae hummed in acknowledgment. “But that wasn’t it,” she said as she showed me the paper before carefully folding it.
“His irritability? Are you serious?”
“I’m so serious,” she said as she shut the locket.
“But he was the worst when you first arrived.”
“I know.” She lifted a shoulder as she leaned up against the island, expression faraway as she seemed to think back. “But I couldn’t stop thinking about how infuriating he was, and it made me want to see him again to see what he would do the next time and the next time.”
I lifted my hands, then started clearing off the island so I could clean up from all the baking. “Hey, whatever worked for you, I’m just glad it did.”
By the time we had everything put away and the counter cleaned, and Rae had stolen another couple of twists to take home with them, the guys were coming back inside.
“Answer’s no,” Beau said, sounding like he was getting frustrated with having probably repeated himself.
“You’re not even gonna let me try it out?”
Beau shot him a hard look as they continued toward the kitchen. “What’d I say?”
“What’s going on?” I asked as I folded my arms under my chest, eyes narrowing on the two of them.
Beau gestured to his youngest brother. “He wants to take their new dog with him on jobs—which means here.”
“No,” I said with a scoff. “We don’t have animals for a reason. Then there would be fur and a smell—no. And if you want more than one kid, don’t try sneaking it past me either.”
A ghost of a smile crossed Beau’s face as he turned to look at Sawyer. “As I said.”
“Good Lord.” Rae reached out, grabbing my arm. “He smiles.”
I hummed in acknowledgment and sighed. “That was nothing.”
“Wow,” she mumbled.
“I can hear you,” Sawyer said, arms out at his sides and eyes wide. “And I’m never letting you near any of my brothers again.”
Rae gave me a knowing smile and then looked back at him, all affection and amusement, but her words were for me. “I do love his unnecessary caveman moments.” Touching just beneath her bottom lip, she asked Sawyer, “Is my lipstick smeared?”
I looked at her lipstick-free lips, confusion sweeping through me.
But Sawyer was already stalking through the kitchen and reaching for her with the hand that wasn’t holding his toolbox. “We’re leaving,” he said, voice rough and telling in a way that had me wishing I wasn’t present for whatever moment they’d just stepped into. “Now.”
Rae smiled victoriously as she let him start pulling her away, hurrying to grab up their pastries and then stopping in front of me as her expression shifted to something raw and slightly vulnerable. “Thank you,” she said on a breath. “Thank you so much.”
“I’m so happy for you—for both of y’all.” I squeezed her arm since her hands were full and said, “Let me know what happens with the house.”
Excitement lit in her eyes. “We will. We’re going there now.”
“After,” Sawyer corrected.
“Gross,” I said, shoving him away. “You can leave now.”
Rae’s throaty laugh lingered as they hurried out of the house, calling out goodbyes as they went.
No sooner had the door closed than Beau was pulling me into his arms and lifting me, his mouth on my neck as my surprised giggle filled the kitchen.
Placing me on the edge of the island, he stepped between my legs and ran his hands up my thighs to grip my butt, pulling me as close as possible. “Is it later?”
“I sure hope so,” I said as I wrapped my arms around his neck and leaned in to press my mouth to his.
When the doorbell sounded through the house, a whimper of frustration rolled up my throat, and Beau’s forehead fell heavily to mine.
“I’m not ready,” I mumbled and let my fingers gently trail along his neck.
“We were waiting for them to show,” he reminded me even though his tone said that he agreed, that he wished we could have another hour to ourselves.
“I know, and I love it. I just—” I sighed and leaned back, studying all that sexual frustration bleeding from him that only amplified my own.
But that was just how our lives went.
Savoring the very rare moments we were truly alone and trying to steal private moments between Blossom guests and three kids and family stopping by at random. The latter happening more and more often with the fracture between the Dixon family finally healing.
“Later?”
“Looking forward to it,” I said, repeating my earlier words.
He pressed a quick kiss to my mouth and helped me down from the island. “Let’s live that dream.”
A whispered moan teased my lips when Beau’s large hand gently curved over my swollen stomach and his mouth passed across my neck.
“You need to sit down.”
I swatted at his chest dismissively at his umpteenth request. “I will when we eat.”
“Savannah.” My name was all a rumbled disapproval.
“Bear, I’ve had three kids, and I practically lived in here with each of them too.”
“Not doing this,” he argued softly, gesturing to where our kitchen was filled with Thanksgiving desserts and dinner prep. The hand on my stomach moved in a slow circle. “Not with this.”
I let out a breath, trying to be understanding even if he was being unreasonable. Well, my version of unreasonable.
“I let you put the turkey in the oven, and I’ll let you take it out,” I said as if that had been a great sacrifice for me.
His midnight eyes searched my face, showing exactly how much he wanted to force me to do what he was asking.
I lifted a brow. “Are you gonna finish making all this food?”
A laugh scraped up his throat. “Yes. If you’d just let me.”
“Well, I’m not letting you. So . . .” I gave him a look, daring him to make me leave my spot in the kitchen.
“If you’re not helping, you’re in the way,” my mother-in-law said as she came back into the kitchen, shooing at Beau. “Go on and get.”
I smiled to assure him I was fine and asked, “Where are the kids?”
“Levi crashed about ten minutes ago. Quinn and Wyatt are watching a movie.” He took a few steps back but gestured to me. “Mom, Savannah needs to sit down.”
“I’m fine.”
“Why?” his mom asked, then looked to me, shrugging. “She’s fine. She’ll sit if she needs to.”
“It’s like I’ve never been pregnant before,” I muttered as I went back to prepping the dressing.
“You’ve never been this pregnant during a major holiday,” he said. “Your doctor also said you needed to take it easy.”
I pointed at him, sucking in a gasp at the betrayal. “You
said you wouldn’t say anything, and she also said I was okay to host Thanksgiving.”
He gave me a look that was a perfect mixture of adoration and frustration. “Babe, she’s never seen you host anything. And she only said host. Not bake and cook all day.”
“Wait, what’d your doctor say?” his mom asked, turning to look at me. “Is everything okay?”
“Of course,” I said just as Beau said, “Mostly.”
I stomped my foot and gave him a wide-eyed look. “Beau Dixon, you are in so much trouble right now.”
He lifted a brow, the action so subtle but saying so much. He didn’t care because he wanted to take care of me.
His mom pointed between us. “All right, someone tell me what’s going on with my daughter-in-law and grandbaby.”
Beau waited to see if I would explain, and I knew if I didn’t say anything, he would.
So, with a sigh, I said, “I sort of—”
“Did,” he claimed.
“I went into early labor this last weekend. But,” I hurried to add, “they stopped it, and we’re both fine. My doctor said I could still carry to full term.”
“But you’re supposed to be taking it easy,” Beau said firmly.
“And you’ve been—Savannah,” my mother-in-law chided. “Go. Get.” She gestured to Beau. “Get her on the couch. I can’t believe you’ve let her be in this kitchen all day.”
Beau looked at her like she’d missed something important. “I’ve been in here all day trying to get her out of it, and y’all keep making me leave.”
“Well, now she’s leaving.” She grabbed a hand towel and smacked him with it. “How dare you keep these kinds of things from your mother.”
He lifted his hands, then let them fall to his sides as he followed me out of the kitchen.
“You are in so much trouble,” I repeated once we were in the living room.
“I don’t care,” he said easily as he helped me onto the couch and then sank to my side, his hand tenderly resting on my stomach. “I know you want to, but you shouldn’t be doing all that. You can’t, Savannah.”
“I feel fine,” I said for what had to be the thirtieth time that day, then gestured to my stomach when the baby hit just below where Beau’s hand rested. “We’re fine.”
Fire Page 40
