Page 19 of Curvy Girl and the Protector Cowboy

"Next time?" he asks quietly. "Does that mean you're staying?"

The question hangs between us, weighted with possibility. I search his face, finding nothing but sincerity in his eyes.

"How can I resist this?" I whisper. "A man like you, safety, a good life for me and Miguel?" I shake my head slightly. "It feels like a dream. I'm not sure it isn't."

"It's not a dream," Cole says firmly, his palm warm against my cheek. "You're safe now. Both of you."

He leans in to kiss me, his lips just brushing mine when we hear it—the front door slamming open, followed by the sound of children's voices. Miguel and Lucy, chattering excitedly as they enter the house, their footsteps echoing down the hallway.

I tense, suddenly aware of our naked bodies, the unmistakable scent of sex in the air.

"We should go," I whisper urgently. "Before Miguel sees. It's too soon, I have no idea how to explain..." I pause, another thought striking me. "Besides, you probably don't want father duties thrust upon you."

To my surprise, Cole shakes his head, his expression serious. "I'm prepared for everything, Luisa. I'm not taking this lightly. I'll be there for you and for Miguel, every step of the way."

The sincerity in his voice makes my throat tighten with emotion. After years of broken promises and conditional love, here's a man offering exactly what I've needed—stability, safety, and genuine care for both me and my son.

I want to cry with happiness, but I hold the tears back, not wanting to waste a second of this moment. Instead, I lean forward and kiss him deeply, pouring all my gratitude and hope into it.

When we pull apart, his smile is bright enough to chase away the shadows of my past. Whatever comes next—explaining to Miguel, building a new life, facing the inevitable challenges—I won't be facing it alone.

For the first time in years, I feel something I'd almost forgotten: hope.

Epilogue

One Year Later

I check the small velvet box in my pocket for the tenth time as I spread the picnic blanket across the grass. The viewpoint Aaron recommended is perfect—sweeping vistas of Cedar Falls below, mountains in the distance, and a sunset that promises to be spectacular in about an hour.

"This is beautiful," Luisa says, setting down the wicker basket we packed together this morning. Her hair, longer now than when she first arrived on our ranch, catches the late afternoon sunlight. "How did you find this place?"

"Aaron brought Elena here on their first date," I admit, observing her reaction. "He says it’s the most romantic spot in the county."

Her eyes widen slightly, but she says nothing, busying herself with unpacking the food we prepared. I hide my smile. After a year together, I can read her expressions like a book—she suspects something, but she's trying not to get ahead of herself.

It's been a year of firsts and healing. Luisa found a job teaching kindergarten at Cedar Falls Elementary, where Miguel started pre-K this fall. They moved from the guest cottage into the main house with me six months ago, after Jackson and Sarah moved to her place at the therapy ranch.

Ricardo never came looking. Whether he decided Luisa wasn't worth the trouble or whether he found a new target for his control, we'll never know.

I keep that promise anyway—all five Covington brothers on alert, protective of the woman who brought light back into my life and the boy who now calls me "Cole-Dad" (a compromise we reached when "Uncle Cole" no longer felt right but "Dad" seemed too soon).

"Wine?" Luisa offers, holding up the bottle we brought.

The simple cotton dress she's wearing today hugs her curves in all the right places, making it hard to concentrate on anything else.

"Sure," I nod, accepting the plastic cup she pours.

My hand is steady despite the nervous energy building inside me. I've faced two-thousand-pound bulls with less anxiety than I feel about the next hour.

We eat and talk about ordinary things—Miguel's latest art project (a family portrait featuring all the Covingtons plus every horse on the ranch), Vincent and Charlotte's wedding plans, my upcoming competition in Springfield next month. Domestic, comfortable conversation that would have seemed impossible when Luisa first appeared on our land in that torn wedding dress.

As the sun begins its descent toward the horizon, painting the sky in brilliant oranges and pinks, I know it's time.

"Remember when you first came to the ranch?" I ask, taking her hand in mine.

She smiles, a hint of mischief in her eyes. "You mean when I showed up looking like a disaster and you made Mickey Mouse pancakes for my son?"

"I thought you were the most beautiful woman I'd ever seen," I tell her honestly. "Even with mascara smudged down your face and that dress in tatters."

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