Page 107 of Buckled in Barbwire

“The hot tub and boat weren’t too shabby either. I could tell something was happening.”

That acknowledgement has me tightening my grip. “You felt it?”

Her nod bumps into me. “My heart was warming up to you, but then I found out you’d lied. Again.”

I flinch. “Have I redeemed myself?”

“Mostly.”

My gut lurches. “Does that mean you love me too?”

Paisley tilts sideways to stamp her mouth onto mine. “Yes.”

There’s a clench in my chest before the pressure releases. It’s like a key turning into a lock to grant entry. I instantly feel lighter. The warm sensation that I’ve recently tied to comfort begins spreading through me. If I only listened sooner, we could’ve established this bond at the beginning. But we’re here now.

My arms form an unbreakable cinch around her. “Damn, Twinkles. I needed to hear that. It’s the most valuable thing anyone has ever said to me.”

“I’ve never been in love before,” she admits. “There’s a decade and countless experiences separating us. That doesn’t mean I’m foolish or take this step lightly. Please don’t break my heart, husband.”

The request carves a singular priority into the depths of my soul. “This is a first for me too. I’ll never give you reason to doubt me again. You’re all that matters to me. Now and forever. I want you to depend on me, and trust me completely.”

“I already do. You can rely on me too. I’m here for you, whatever you need.” Her hand settles over mine.

A drum bangs against my sternum and I inhale a deep breath. “That means a lot. I don’t have many people in my inner circle. You’re very important to me, wife.”

Paisley doesn’t respond, at least not right away. A heaviness settles between us. I flex against the forceful friction, angry that it’s intruding. That jittery energy returns and she toys with the lead rope in her grip.

“If you ever want to talk about your mom, I’m a really great listener. No pressure,” she rushes to add.

And that urgent clarification is my fault. Guilt sits heavy in my gut like a stone.Sunshine still bathes us, but there’s a chill in the air. It’s not fair for me to expect her to dive tits first when I’m still holding back.

This conversation is long overdue.

“Let’s get off over there.” I point to the large willow swaying in the breeze.

She guides us in that direction without question. Once we’ve stopped, I slide off Echo’s rump before grabbing my wife. Her dedication shadows me while I tie the horse to a fence post.

A burst of wind kicks fallen leaves across our boots. I settle at the tree’s base with the trunk supporting my back. Paisley folds herself onto the ground next to me, but she isn’t close enough. My arm curls around her and pulls until she’s pressed into my side.

Words gather before scurrying away like bad choices. The air changes, sweeping in a somber mood. There’s a ball forming in my throat just from poking at this wound.

A throbbing pushes at the base of my skull and I clench my eyes shut. “I’m not good at this shit, which shouldn’t be shocking.”

Paisley lifts her gaze to search mine. “You don’t have to—”

My kiss steals her voice. “I’m sorry for how I treated you at the funeral.”

“Don’t apologize about that,” she blurts. “I shouldn’t have approached you. We were strangers, and I stuck my nose into your grief.”

I caress the velvet of her cheek with a bent knuckle. “You were trying to offer condolences. I was just too damn stubborn to accept it. Mom was probably ashamed of me at that point already.”

“No, she could never be disappointed in you.”

My snort is hollow. “Ever the optimist, Twinkles. I admire that. You’ve given me reason to believe in selfless compassion.”

Her expression brightens. “Really?”

“And every other good quality a person can possess. That’s you, wrapped in sparkle and glitter.”

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