Page 142 of Fixing to Be Mine

“This isn’t about what you walked away from. It’s about what we’re walking into together. I want it all with you, Stormy. Every sunrise. Every sunset. Every plan, mess, and morning coffee. Will you please make me the happiest cowboy alive and be my wife?”

The world stops like it’s waiting for my answer.

I look down at the ring, with a gorgeous diamond nestled in the center. It’s exactly what I’ve always wanted.

“Yes,” I whisper. “You’re the love of my life,” I say, wrapping my arms around him and kissing him so sweetly.

He lets out a breath, and then he’s pulling me into his arms, lifting me off the ground as I laugh into his neck.

Laughter falls from him, and he spins me around, my feet off the ground.

I kiss him until I can’t feel the difference between his breath and mine.

When he finally slips the ring on my finger, the sun catches it at the perfect angle, like we’re meant to be.

We stay at the lookout for a little longer, then head back when the sun gets too hot.

When we’re back at the barn, he looks at me with that grin that makes my stomach flip—the one that says he loves me and that we’re going to spend the rest of our days together.

Boots meets us at the door, tongue lolling like he’s been waiting to congratulate us. He sniffs my hand, then noses it like he’s inspecting the ring.

I scratch behind his ears. “You approve?”

He jumps up on me, and I laugh.

Inside, the house is cooler, and soft light filters through the kitchen window.

Colt heads straight to the sink, rinsing off my hands. I admire his windblown hair, sun-kissed cheeks, and how he steals kisses whenever he wants them.

“You hungry?” he asks.

“For you,” I whisper.

He smiles. “Good. ’Cause I’m starving.”

Colt lifts me into his arms, and I laugh as he carries me to the bedroom. He lays me back on the bed and smiles, like he’s memorizing me.

He tips his head toward me. “When do you want to get married?”

I smirk. “As soon as the second floor is finished.”

“Fuck, guess I’d better have it done by next week,” he says, carefully unbuttoning my jeans and sliding the zipper down.

He falls to his knees, his eyes not leaving mine. “Stormy Valentine. Mmm. Sounds sexy.”

His laugh is low, warm against the inside of my thigh. My heart skips, and it’s not just the name; it’s the way he says it, like his name belongs to me.

“I knew the moment I saw you, you were fixing to be mine,” he confesses.

I smile, loving his Southern drawl. “I knew it too.”

“Is this where I say I told you so?” he asks as he slides my panties down.

This moment feels like it could stretch out forever.

Everything feels like it’s finally settled where it belongs.

“I’ll take a million of them if it ends with us being together.”

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