Page 108 of Say the Words
“Stubborn.”
I made an indignant sound, but before I could argue, he cut me off. “It’s one of the things I love about you.”
I settled back against him. Nope. I would never get tired of hearing that.
From my vantage point in his lap, I could see into the kitchen where the white cabinets stood out in the dim light. Moonlight glinted on the warm hardwoods, impressing me all over again that he had remodeled the house by himself.
“Can I ask you a question?”
He hummed his assent as his hands roved along my back and legs.
“Why didn’t you just ask me to help you come up with ideas for your remodel? Other than the obvious problem with asking for help, I mean. We could have figured out something that suits you.”
“This does suit me. This house is exactly how I want it. The only thing that’s missing is you in it.” He ran one hand down my arm again until he played with my hand, lightly rubbing my bare ring finger with his thumb. “I thought you’d already figured it out. I did all this for you. I didn’t know if you would ever even see it, but all the time I was working, deep down inside, I was doing it to make a home for you.”
I closed my eyes, breathing in the warm smell of him as I turned my face to his chest. Held close in his arms, I couldn’t imagine anywhere else I would rather be.
“Youare my home, Ty.”
epilogue
TY
One yearlater
I let June pull ahead of me so I could watch her ride, a thrill I indulged in every chance I got. Her comfort and skill on the horse did something visceral to me. A swell of pride, sure, but something deeper, too—a rock-solid certainty she was meant to be out here. The same certainty that said she was meant to bemine. And very soon, if I didn’t blow everything I’d planned this afternoon, I would make sure she was mine for good.
Corazon cantered along, excited as always when we explored the back acreage. I’d searched several breeders before I finally lit on the right horse for June, and Corazon had proved a perfect match for her—good-natured, but spirited, too, with just enough sass in her to keep June happy. The two had become near inseparable these last months, and I often caught June in the barn, whispering sweet nothings to her chestnut quarter horse.
Jealousy over a horse—a new one for me. Not that I’d begrudge June anything. Seeing her take so well to life out here brought satisfaction like nothing else.
Well. Almost nothing else.
She slowed, coming up on our favorite spot. I kept my eyes on her, waiting for the moment she noticed the change. When she swiveled her head toward me, the look of wonder on her face was worth all the sweat and curses I’d endured out here yesterday.
“When did you do this?”
A wood-slat glider sat beneath the shade of a live oak, looking out toward the stream that ran through the property. It made a pretty picture, if I didn’t say so myself. Though it would look best with her sitting in it.
I basked in the sunbeams she shone my way. That smile was the best part of every one of my days, the sparkling center to every morning, noon, and night. “I might not have had as much fence-mending to do out here yesterday as I claimed.”
Her grin warmed me, even as nerves roped through my stomach, pulling tighter the closer we got to the glider. I didn’t have much fear over how she’d answer me, but my heartrate ratcheted up anyhow. I wanted to get this right, dammit. Couldn’t very well do that shaking like a jittery colt.
We dismounted, and I tied Bonanza and Corazon to low branches on opposite sides of the big old tree. They’d got on well so far, but nothing would wreck this moment like two horses having a dust-up. I patted my shirt pocket, as if the soft weight there hadn’t reassured me of its presence the whole ride out.
June stood in front of the glider, her grin all pleasure and satisfaction. Maybe a touch of smugness in there, too. After the ones I’d put up at the barn and the house, this amounted to her third swing on the property.
“All I said was, it would be nice to have a place to sit out here.”
She’d said it two weeks ago, lying in the shade on the picnic blanket we usually brought with us. Like with everything else, she’d been right.
Now and then, she gloried over just how right she was, but I didn’t mind. She’d earned it. Her experiment with hosting Girl Scout troops had proved a boon for my business, bringing in referrals for both boarding and training to the ranch I now owned outright. She’d held a couple more weekends for the girls in the year since that first one, and I couldn’t get enough of watching my woman show off her love of my horses.
The Girl Scouts hadn’t been the only thing to bring in more business. Owning up to my injury and subsequent training delays had done more for my reputation than I’d ever have guessed. Apparently, what clients liked even better than an unbreakable trainer was an honest one. I’d feared a long-term setback to my training work, and instead, I’d seen an uptick. The last year had been the busiest one I’d had yet. If I owed it all to June, well—I didn’t mind being in her debt.
Bringing myself back to the significance at hand, I gestured at the oak glider. Spots of sunshine glittered on it through the tree’s branches, just waiting for her to try it out. “Go on and sit, then.”
She sat down, easing the glider back and forth in a smooth slide. “It’s perfect.”
