Page 91 of Ride Me Reckless
“I mean this double-wide has served its purpose, but it’s not where you raise twins. Or care for Mama long-term. You’ve got options, Tessa. Colt, you’re a literal millionaire with a ranch house that’s got more space than this entire lot.”
I glanced at him, and Colt’s jaw tensed, but not in resistance. More like… recognition.
“I know Mama’s doing well,” Callie continued, her voice gentle. “And I know you’ve made this place feel safe, Tessa. But the next season of your life needs room to breathe. You need help. You need ease. You need deeper roots than this place can provide.”
Colt crossed the room and pulled up another chair, sliding his hand into mine.
Callie leaned in a little. “You’ve risen from the ashes. But maybe now it’s time to take off and fly.”
I didn’t say anything at first. I just stared at the photo she’d laid on the coffee table. Two little profiles, curled in tandem like commas. A matching pair of tiny heartbeats.
She wasn’t wrong.
The crickets had just started their song when Colt stepped outside with a glass of sweet tea and lemon water for me. He settled down beside me on the porch swing. Mama was inside watching TV as the cushions sighed beneath us.
The folded ultrasound printout rested in my lap, edges curling where my fingers had gripped it too tightly. I looked down at it again—two tiny figures, side by side like they already had secrets to share. Twins. Still felt surreal.
"You’ve been quiet," Colt said gently.
I took a sip of water and exhaled. "Trying to soak it all in, I guess. I thought one baby would change everything. Two? It’s like the whole map of our lives just redrew itself."
Colt nodded, stretching his arm along the back of the swing. "We’re gonna need more of everything. Cribs. Diapers. Patience."
I let out a soft laugh, resting my head against his shoulder. "And maybe more square footage."
"Not today," I added quickly. "I know Callie means well, but I like it here right now. Mama’s doing better. It feels safe."
He didn’t argue. Just sipped his tea and let the silence settle comfortably between us.
"I get it," he said at last. "This place saved us, in a way. Gave us space to heal. But we both know it’s not where we stay. Not with two babies on the way. The doctor made that clear to me.”
I turned toward him, my fingers absently brushing the folded photo in my lap. “You’re thinking about moving back to your house.”
Colt nodded once. “Yeah. I always thought I built that place for myself. Big space, open kitchen, pasture out back for Biscuit and the other horses. But maybe… I was building it for us. You. The twins. Even Dalia.”
I blinked, caught off guard by how right that sounded.
“I’d like her to have her own quarters—close by but comfortable. Something private with her own little porch. She deserves that,” he said.
“She’d love that,” I whispered. “She keeps calling your house ‘that fancy ranch house with too many windows.’ But I think she’d love waking up to those views.”
He chuckled. “We’ll bring Biscuit back, too. I bet before long, you’ll be leading her around the yard while the kids learn to ride.”
Tears burned the backs of my eyes, but they didn’t fall. They didn’t need to. This wasn’t grief or fear—it was the weight of something good.
“I just didn’t picture it this way,” I murmured.
“No fireworks?” he teased.
I shook my head with a smile. “Nope. No fireworks. Just soft light and the sound of you breathing beside me. And babies on the way. And my mama safe. It might not be the dream I had when I was seventeen, but it’s everything I didn’t know I needed.”
Colt kissed my temple, his hand closing over mine again.
The porch creaked. The breeze whispered. And in that fading light, with Colt beside me and our future tucked safely in my lap, I knew we’d find our way.
The double-wide was our past, and Colt’s home on Lucky Ranch was our future.
Epilogue
