Page 86 of Ride Me Reckless
Colt slid the ring onto my finger, his touch shaking just enough to make my heart ache. Mama clapped once and grinned, looking entirely too pleased with herself.
“Took you long enough,” she said. “Now, get me that tea, Tessa Rae. You should’ve married that boy years ago.”
As she sipped her tea, calm and content, Colt leaned into me at the counter. His shoulder bumped mine, and I rested my head against it.
I looked down at the little diamond glittering on my finger, twisting it slowly, memorizing how it felt.
Maybe this wasn’t the big, fireworks-in-the-sky engagement I used to dream about. No candlelight or perfect dress or sweeping speeches.
But it was honest. It was real.
It was us.
“You know,” I murmured, still admiring the ring, “you’ve got excellent taste, cowboy.”
He grinned. “I’ll buy you a bigger one later.”
I shook my head. “No way. This is the one. This is ours.”
And in that small kitchen, with Mama sipping sweet tea and Colt beside me, I knew I didn’t need anything more.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Every Morning
Colt
The smell of coffee hit me before I even opened my eyes.
It wasn’t the fancy kind, either—no cinnamon syrup or whipped cream nonsense. Just old-fashioned, percolated brew, the way folks around here liked it. I stretched, scratched the back of my neck, and padded out to the kitchen, still tugging a T-shirt over my head.
Dalia sat at the table, already dressed for the day in a soft pink blouse that Tessa must’ve picked out for her. Her Bible was open in front of her, glasses perched on her nose. She looked up as I entered.
“Well, morning there, Bob,” she said brightly, then blinked and tilted her head. “No. Colt. It’s Colt, isn’t it? I’m getting better at that, aren’t I?”
I smiled as I made my way to the counter. “You sure are, ma’am.”
She beamed, proud of herself. “Names are funny things. Sometimes they stick, sometimes they float away.”
I opened the cabinet for a mug and poured myself a cup. Then, mostly out of habit, I checked the coffee pot since Dalia was the one who had made it. There were no floating grounds. The coffee was not too light, not watery, just right.
“You nailed the coffee,” I said, lifting the mug toward her in a silent toast.
“Well, thank you.” She tapped the page in her Bible like she’d just read something worth remembering. “Did you tell Tessa you loved her yet this morning?”
That caught me off guard. I lowered the mug slowly. “Uh… no, not yet. She’s still sleeping.”
Dalia’s expression softened as she looked out the kitchen window, past the screen and into the hazy pink sky. “Then you best not waste the moment. Jack told me he loved me every morning. Rain or shine, tired or not. Last words he ever said to me, too.”
She didn’t tear up. Didn’t sniff or get misty. Just smiled like the memory was a favorite song she hadn’t heard in a while.
I stood there, holding that cup of coffee like it weighed fifty pounds.
“I won’t forget,” I said quietly.
“You’d better not. That girl of yours, she needs to hear it. Every single day.”
I nodded, throat tight, and took one last sip before heading down the hall.
