Page 26 of Old-Fashioned Rancher

There was no denying Grady’s intentions now. My heart hammered around my chest.

“Next?” I asked.

“Ferns,” he replied.

Sincerity. A genuine confession.

“Honeysuckle.”

Bonds of true love. Devotion, commitment.

The bouquet was bursting now, sweetly scented and beautiful. My gaze roamed over the cut flowers, waiting for Grady to continue reading from his list. What more did he have to say?

When he didn’t continue, I glanced over my shoulder, expectantly.

“Is that all?” I asked.

Grady shook his head.

“There’s…one more.”

He wasn’t looking at the list. He was looking at me. And in my arms were all the things he wanted to say to me.

“Go on,” I prompted.

“Forget-me-nots.”

My eyes slipped closed and I buried my face in the flowers. Of course it would be forget-me-nots. The flowers I picked for him, pinned to his lapel to practically mark him as mine in front of the whole festival.

Grady’s boots scuffed on the floor as he approached and his big, warm hands cupped my cheeks. When he tipped my head up, I opened my eyes.

“I told you, Birdie,” he said quietly. “I’m no good at this. My first marriage failed because I wasn’t a good husband. For twenty years, I told myself that I wasn’t the marrying kind. But you…when I’m with you, all I can think about is how desperately I want to try and be a better man for you.”

I was melting on the spot. I just needed to know one thing.

“This morning…it almost seemed like you were kicking me out.”

Grady shook his head.

“That wasn’t my intention, I swear. I could have easily left the cattle in Bowen’s care. He’s perfectly capable of handling the situation after working with me for years. I got caught up in the moment.”

I chewed my lower lip as my gaze fell to his mouth. I really wanted to kiss him. My whole body ached with it.

“Grady, I know your ranch is important to you. I would never ask you to give that up.”

“And you are important to me, too.” He cradled my chin in his palm. “I want you by my side, Birdie, for the rest of my days. If you’re willing to have me, I’ll do everything in my power to make sure I don’t lose you.”

The flowers slipped from my hold and scattered across the floor in a pile of stems, petals, and colors. Grady pulled me into his arms and sealed his mouth to mine. I curled my fingers into his shirt, stumbling backward and pulling him with me until I bumped against the front desk.

Even after spending only a few hours apart, I was desperate for him again. The empty throb between my thighs was torture. Grady slid his hands down my back and gave my ass a firm squeeze, sucking at my neck.

“We should get out of here,” he said. “Before we’re indecent.”

My eyes fluttered closed at the delicious sound of Grady’s low, gruff tone. It was so unfair that his voice alone could turn my panties into a mess. He nuzzled against my cheek, pinching my earlobe between his teeth. The sandpaper roughness of his stubble against the sensitive curve of my jawline made me whimper.

I hooked my fingers into his belt buckle and hauled him out of the room, around the corner. I lived above the shop, with a modest bedroom that would probably be cramped, thanks to Grady’s size. I was too impatient to drag him all the way upstairs though.

So, I pulled him into the cutting room—a small, private space where I made my arrangements, kept cool to maintain the flowers’ freshness as long as possible. I swept an arm across the old white-washed table at the center of the room. Tools, wire, and flower stems tumbled to the floor.

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