Page 71 of Ride Me Reckless
And as we rolled down the road, wind tugging at the last gold leaves of fall, I smiled to myself.
Everything was going exactly the way I’d planned.
Next stop: the big sell.
Time to show her the double wide.
Chapter Nineteen
Back to the Beginning
Tessa
“Ihaven’t been down this road in a long time,” I said.
As soon as Colt flicked on his turn signal and veered off the main stretch, my heart stuttered. I knew these trees—knew the way they arched over the lane like a canopy in the fall, their leaves brushing gold across the windshield. But something was different.
The gravel was gone.
Instead, smooth black asphalt curved ahead of us, still crisp around the edges like it hadn’t been poured all that long ago.
I glanced at him. “This road’s paved now?”
He just gave a small, secret kind of smile and kept driving. No explanation. No teasing. He always wore just that infuriating calm when he was about to do something that knocked my breath out.
My throat tightened as the trees parted, and the house came into view.
It looked nothing like I remembered. And somehow… exactly the same.
The siding was fresh and clean. New gutters trimmed the roof, and the porch had been painted a soft cream color, making it look bigger and brighter. Neat flower beds lined the walk, planted with mums and fall pansies. The lawn had been cut recently—edges trimmed sharp, the kind of care that didn’t come from a rushed Saturday morning chore.
But what really got me—the part that made my breath catch—was the old porch swing. Still there. Hanging from new chains on that familiar beam. The cinder blocks we’d used to prop it up when the post started sagging had been replaced with real supports, solid and level.
I opened my mouth, but the words caught in my throat.
The barn had a new corral around it, and white fencing stood out bright against the green pasture beyond. Everything was cleaner, neater, and steadier.
He pulled into the driveway, parked, and shut off the engine. The truck went quiet, and I could only hear the wind rustling through the trees.
“I… I don’t understand.” I turned to him slowly. “What is this?”
He didn’t answer right away. Just looked out at the house, hands resting on the wheel like he wasn’t in any rush.
“This place needed a little love,” he finally said. “Figured I owed it to the land.”
I gave him a side-eye. “Colt, this isn’t just ‘a little love.’ This is a damn renovation. You didn’t just mow the yard. You overhauled it.”
That smirk twitched again. “Come on. Let me show you.”
He opened his door, hopped out, and rounded the truck before I could even undo my seatbelt. I stepped out slowly, my boots hitting the fresh gravel edging the drive. The airsmelled like cut grass and warm cedar, and suddenly my head was spinning with old memories—nights on that swing with a blanket across our legs, Colt fixing that busted gutter with a splint and duct tape, the fight we had in the kitchen over his muddy boots.
This place had been ours once. And now it looked like someone had taken the bones of that life and rebuilt it with purpose.
But why?
“Colt…” I said softly, walking toward the porch, my fingers brushing the smooth railing. “You planning to rent this out? Sell it?”
He stopped beside me, then turned to face me full on.
