by Ali Parker
“Sure thing.” She giggled. Then she covered her mouth with one hand and ducked down low as I got out of the car.
When I turned to my two ranch hands, they were already coming down the porch steps. The driver got out of the car and walked around the hood, avoiding walking past me, and went the long way around to the trunk, which he popped open. He pulled my suitcases out and closed the trunk before Boone and Dodge were close enough to potentially see Piper’s bags as well. Then he brought them to me.
“Here you are, Mr. Brewer.”
“Thank you.”
The driver proceeded to walk the long way back around the car as Boone and Dodge closed in around me.
They shared a mournful look before Dodge turned toward me. “I’m sorry, boss.”
“Real sorry,” Boone added.
“I was sure she was going to pick you. You guys were made for each other. The way she looked at you… it doesn’t make any sense.”
“No sense at all,” Boone said.
Dodge shot him a dark look. “Can you stop piggybacking off what I say?”
“Sorry,” Boone muttered. “Who’d she choose then, Wyatt?”
Dodge elbowed him hard in the ribs. “He’s not gonna want to talk about that, you jackass. Don’t mind him, Wyatt. It’s good to have you back. You want to share a drink or something? Take your mind off things?”
“Are drinks a good idea?” Boone asked quietly.
Dodge was about to give him hell when I held up both hands. I’d yet to get a word in between the two of them, and regardless of how humorous I found this whole thing, I also found their genuine sympathy for me rather touching. “It’s all right, boys. It’s all right.”
“But she didn’t choose you,” Boone said.
“And she’s the love of your life,” Dodge continued.
“You’ve been waiting for her to come back for nine months.”
“I know,” I said. “But I have to tell you something.”
“What?” they asked in unison.
Piper had divine timing. She flung the back door open, put one long lean leg out after the other, and stepped out of the car. Both Boone and Dodge blinked at her, bewilderment etched plainly on their faces, as she sauntered over and rested an elbow on my shoulder to lean haphazardly against me.
“Well,” she said, “aren’t you two happy to see me?”
Chapter 11
Piper
The mug in my hands was the same one I’d used the last time I was on the ranch. It was dark blue, handmade ceramic, with a thick handle that my thumb rested perfectly at the top of. At this particular moment, it was filled to the brim with piping-hot coffee. Tendrils of steam swirled above the top of the mug when I stepped out into the morning air. The front-porch door fell closed behind me and tapped the frame a couple of times before falling quiet.
I moved to the porch railing and gazed out at the place I’d fallen in love with for so many reasons back in March. For starters, it was beautiful. The landscape painted the illusion of infinity, with hills rolling on for miles, as far as the eye could see, before meeting the horizon or the green belt of trees at least five miles to the back of the property. As of right now, the hills were a bit dry looking and not as green as I remembered.
I looked forward to seeing how the seasons changed this place.
I’d fallen in love with the smells, too. The aroma of rich soil, hay, coffee. Sure, on some mornings, the smells on a ranch weren’t the most pleasant thing, but I’d even found a soft spot for those manure-ridden mornings.
The new barn was an impressive thing, too. It was a rich cherry red and trimmed in white. The A-frame loft was spewing out hay from the front window and I itched to climb up inside and get up close and personal with the new building.
In time.
I gazed up at the sky. The odd cloud hung low over the hills and the sun shone down on them, leaving pillow-shaped shadows on the fields below.
Yes. I’d fallen in love with this place. And coming back to it felt like coming back to myself.
Home.
Of course, I loved this ranch and these hills all the more because this was the land that had raised the man I loved.
I smiled as I pressed my coffee mug to my lips and sipped my coffee. Even it tasted better here.
My attention went to the outbuilding when the door swung open. Boone and Dodge emerged, talking jovially amongst themselves, and made their way to the barn. When they passed in front of the porch, their boots crunching on the gravel drive, Boone looked up and offered me a wave.
“Morning, Piper.”
“Good morning.” I smiled, not to be polite but because I hadn’t really been able to stop since Wyatt and I had arrived three days ago. I was at ease here. The world had slowed down and so had the storm inside my head and heart. There was still some pain when I thought of the other men—the ones who had gone back to the lives they thought they might have shared with me—but it wasn’t as sharp as it had been at the very beginning of the month. It was dull, like a slowly healing broken bone. And I could handle that.
The porch door swung open behind me. The hinges creaked before the wood slapped against the frame. Wyatt’s boots thudded across the porch, and I imagined, for a minute, that I could hear the jingle of spurs with each step.
I smiled at my own silliness as Wyatt came to stand beside me at the railing. He, too, had a cup of coffee in hand. His mug was the same as mine but a rich emerald green. I could feel him looking at me as I took another sip and let the brew warm me up from the inside out.
“Today is a big day,” he said.
“Not as big as the ones ahead.”
“True,” he mused. “They should be here soon, no?”
I nodded.
I was waiting on Jackson Lee’s wedding-planning team. They were to arrive on the ranch at ten o’clock sharp, and I was to meet them and start showing them around the property. From there, we’d be throwing plans together, choosing our ceremony and reception site, building the menu, confirming the guest list, organizing seating arrangements, reviewing the playlist, and choosing songs for first dances and aisle walks and entrances and—
“I may have a little surprise in store for you later.”
Arching a suspicious eyebrow, I turned toward my soon-to-be husband. “A surprise?”
Wyatt set his mug down on the railing and braced himself with one hand beside it. The corner of his mouth twitched in a knowing smile. “I think you’ll like it. Matter of fact, I’m positive you’ll like it.”
“Can I have a hint?”
“No.”
I pouted out my bottom lip and sidled up to him, slipping under his arm and cuddling against his rib cage. “Pretty please?”
Chuckling to himself, Wyatt ran his hand down my back to rest it on my ass, his favorite resting place. “It was a firm no.”
“Fine.”
“Fine,” he said.
“Can I at least know when the surprise is coming?”
“It should be arriving with the wedding-planning team. There has to be a better name for them. It’s too much of a mouthful.”
I cocked my head to the side and considered the possibilities. “How about just the dream team?”
“I thought we were the dream team?”
I laughed and pushed at his hip with mine. “Okay. Well, do you have any bright ideas, cowboy?”
Wyatt stroked his chin thoughtfully. He hadn’t shaved since we’d been back at the ranch. He had a few days of growth and that was just what I liked. The way the dark hair framed his jaw and lips did all kinds of things to me.
He glanced down at me. “The squad?”
I shrugged. “Sure.”
He patted my ass and took another long sip of his coffee. “Speak of the devil.” He tipped his head down the long drive, turning my attention to the iron gates down at Cherry Road. We’d left them open last night in anticipation of The Squad’s arrival.
Six black sedans with chrome handles and gloss
y paint jobs turned off the road and onto the driveway. They proceeded, tires grating over the gravel, up to the barn, where they parked in two neat rows of three.
Butterflies took flight in my belly. “I can’t believe this is happening.”
“Well, you’d better start believing it. You have a lot of work to do.”
“Why just me?”
Wyatt grinned. “If you’d prefer to muck stables and break horses, then, by all means, we can trade places. However, I suspect my vision of our wedding might not align with yours.”
I put my back to the cars and slid between Wyatt and the railing so I could press my hands to his chest, to the leather vest he wore over his plaid. “And what vision might that be?”
His eyes glinted mischievously. “Nobody but you, me, the moonlight, and a soft blanket.”
“That’s not a wedding, Wyatt. That’s a late-night picnic.”
“A sexy picnic.”
Giggling, I slipped out from between him and the railing. “You’re right. You tend to the ranch. I’ll handle the wedding details.”
Wyatt plucked my nearly empty coffee from my hands. “See? Dream team.”
“I should go meet them.”
I hurried down the porch steps. My boots—the same rich brown leather cowboy boots Wyatt had given me during my stay in March, his mother’s old boots—crunched and bit at the ground as I walked purposefully to the vehicles. People were getting out of them. They were all dressed in black. There were four women and eight men. I knew some would be laborers, others planners and coordinators and decorators who would all help me bring my vision to life.
And then someone else got out of the back of the last car.
They were not dressed in black.
They were dressed in distressed cut-off blue jeans, ankle boots, and a long-sleeved floral top under a camel-colored leather jacket. She had dark hair cropped short, and her eyes were hidden behind massive sunglasses with gold frames.
“Janie!” I cried.
I picked up my feet and broke into a run as Janie pulled her sunglasses down, flashed her brilliant smile at me, and held out her arms so I could meet her with a hug when I reached her.
“I didn’t know you were coming,” I said after we parted.
Janie pushed her sunglasses up into her hair. “Me neither. Well, not until a couple of days ago, anyway. Wyatt planned the whole thing. He called and said it was completely unacceptable for you to plan your wedding without me here. And let’s be honest, he’s totally right.”
I squealed with delight before turning back toward the house.
Wyatt was leaning lazily against one of the porch posts, his mug still in hand, my blue one on the railing in front of him. He lifted his coffee as if in a toast to me and Janie, and I could see the smile playing on his lips.
I cupped my hands to my mouth. “Thank you!”
He tipped his head before taking the mugs back inside.
Janie was standing beside me. She rested her elbow on my shoulder. “I know I’ve said this a hundred times over, but your man? He’s so fucking hot.”
Laughing uproariously, I shoved her away. “Hey! Watch it now. That’s my almost-husband you’re drooling over.”
“Yeah. I don’t plan on stopping. Family functions are going to be so much better with his sexy ass walking around all the time.”
“Janie!”
I scolded and reprimanded her, but it did no good. She proceeded to gush about Wyatt as I helped her unload her suitcases. Once her bags were out of the car, I went and introduced myself to The Squad.
At their head was the coordinator, Laurel Brighton. She was a grand total of about four feet and nine inches, and she was wearing a pair of pointed-toe black pumps that were so high it looked like she was standing on the very tips of her toes. They complemented her outfit, a severe and tight black pantsuit with a bright pink blouse underneath, and her designer handbag hung off her wrist as she looked this way and that, inspecting the lay of the land.
“It’s quite lovely here, isn’t it?” Laurel said, her blonde curls dancing across the tops of her shoulders as she looked left and then right. Then she fixed her blue eyes on me. “Where would you like to start? Do you have a ceremony location picked out?”
“Yes, I think so,” I said.
Laurel opened her purse, retrieved a hot-pink lipstick the same color as her blouse, swiped it on, and smacked her lips together. Then she dropped the lipstick back into her bag. “Excellent. Lead the way. I can’t wait to see what we’re working with.”
Chapter 12
Wyatt
“Son of a bitch.” I shook my hand out as my thumb throbbed after the hammer I’d been wielding clipped it. Then, with my teeth gritted and my brow dotted in sweat, I returned to hammering away at the frame of the roof of the loafing shed at the farthest northeast corner of the property.
I’d been neglecting this particular loafing shed for a while. But now, with things disrupted up at the ranch, it was a perfect way to get out of everyone’s hair and still be productive.
Besides, the animals often took to this part of the fields, and if they got caught out in a storm, I wanted to make sure there was some protection for them.
It was midday. The sun was high in the sky and beating down on my back as I worked. My shirt was stuck to me with sweat and I’d already gone through more than enough water to keep a horse going for a day. Still, I was parched. I hopped down onto the grass and stooped to grab my water, which I poured down my gullet in six easy gulps. Then I dragged the back of my hand across my mouth, screwed the cap back on, and tossed it back down to the earth.
I’d been at this for at least four hours. My mind continuously wandered to Piper and how she was doing with The Squad. Since they’d arrived the day before yesterday, they’d kept her hands full with tasks that needed to be done before the big day.
She seemed to be enjoying every part of it. It had become a ritual of ours to lay in bed together at the end of the day and talk about everything she’d done. I was happy for it. There was work to be done on the ranch but I didn’t want to miss out on the special moments of planning the big day. Piper shared the highlights of her day with me, and the stressful moments, and what she was most looking forward to.
We had food and wine tastings coming up soon. I was looking forward to something we would be doing together. Enjoying food and wine was just a perk.
I was about to climb back up onto the roof to keep working when I heard someone walking through the grass toward me. I glanced over my shoulder before turning fully around.
Piper was making her way through the grass. It came halfway up her shins. She was dressed in a plaid shirt—one of mine, to be exact—that she’d tied up in the front so it wasn’t too long. It looked good with her jeans and boots.
“I hope you’re not working too hard out here,” she said.
“Not as hard as you are up at the house, I’m sure.” I met her with a kiss and then stepped back to put on a show of checking her out. She giggled and her cheeks turned pink under my stare. I took my time dragging my eyes up and down the length of her body three times over. “Damn. Ranching looks good on you.”
“Everything looks good on me.”
“Quite true. Quite true. And despite how much I love that fact, I can’t help but find it mildly frustrating.”
“Frustrating?”
“It makes it very hard to get anything done. You are the greatest threat to my self-control, woman. Especially when you’re walking around, looking like this.”
“Like what?” she challenged, dipping her chin to her raised shoulder. She swayed her hips a bit.
“Are you flirting with me, Piper James?”
“Is it working?”
I reached out and grabbed the knot in the front of her shirt—my shirt—and jerked her in close. “Always.”
I interrupted her smile with a kiss. She yielded to me and the sweetest little gasp escaped her before I devoured it. She let me back her up sev
eral paces until she was pinned between me and the side of the loafing shed, and then she hooked a leg around mine. She stared up at me, her eyes dark with a challenge, and began working to undo the buttons of my shirt one by one. She took her time, flicking them open one after the other and pausing to run her fingers a couple of inches into my shirt, tracing my bare skin.
I caught her wrist. “Are you sure you have time for this? Don’t people need you back there?”
“Doesn’t my fiancé need me out here?”
She had a way of turning my resolve to pudding. It was those big brown eyes and those full pouting lips and the way she pushed her hips forward, daring me to put a stop to this. I couldn’t. That was out of my grasp now.
I gritted my teeth and tugged at the knot on the front of my shirt she was wearing. It came apart, leaving the fabric wrinkled as it fell over the tops of her thighs. Piper popped open the last of my buttons as I pushed the shirt over her shoulders, exposing her strappy dark gray sports bra underneath.
I snapped a strap playfully at her shoulder. “I like this.”
“It’s not cute.”
“It is on you.”
“It’s for working out. Or running around a ranch like a crazy person trying to plan a wedding. Which is not the kind of thing a girl should be doing with underwire poking into her ribs.”
“Sounds uncomfortable.”
“It is,” she said. Then she giggled softly. “I’m sorry. I don’t know why I’m talking about underwire. Come here.” She snaked a hand behind my neck to draw my lips back down to hers. I obliged, indulging in the pillowy softness of her kiss.
She tasted like mint and strawberries and something sweeter, like honey. She smelled like hay and dirt and lavender. And her skin was smoother than silk when I ran my hands up her waist.
Piper tugged at the waistband of my jeans. “Take these off.”
“So bossy.”
“Take them off,” she practically growled. “Or you’ll miss your window. Laurel needs me back up at the house.”
I chuckled. “The truth comes out. You don’t have time for this.”
