Page 54 of Tempted By the Broken Cowboy
It hits me, harder than it should: I’m falling, fast, and there’s no hiding it anymore.
I step behind a row of potted palms, the noise of the wedding buzzing around me but somehow muted here. My chest feels tight, like I’m holding a storm in my ribcage. I need perspective. Someone to tell me I’m not completely losing my mind.
I grab Zane’s arm when he passes, dragging him aside before the ceremony starts. “Hey, can we talk?” My voice is low and vulnerable, but I don’t care.
He raises an eyebrow, already sensing the weight in my tone. “Sure, what’s up?”
Jace wanders over, following my gaze to where Quinn is arranging the last of the floral centerpieces. “Oh, this is serious,” he mutters, a smirk tugging at his lips.
Zane leans against the railing beside me, arms crossed, an easy grin plastered on his face. Jace sidles up too, hands shoved in his pockets, watching me—both curious and amused.
I draw a deep breath, trying to get the words out without sounding foolish. “I can’t stop thinking about her,” I admit, voice low, more to myself than to them. “Everything she does, the way she’s been—it’s like she’s part of me already. And the more I notice, the harder it hits. I’m falling, and I don’t even know if I should say anything right now.”
Zane studies me, expression unreadable for a heartbeat. Then he claps a hand on my shoulder. “Finally. About time, man. You’re falling for her because she’s amazing, good for you, and makes you better without even trying. That’s obvious. And you? You’re not the kind to hide how you feel when it matters. Trust me, Quinn’s not going anywhere. She’s strong, smart, and she’s seen more of you than anyone else. That’s rare, man. Don’t waste it or overthink it. Tell her.”
Jace grins, nodding. “We’ve been watching you guys since the bachelor party. The chemistry is so obvious to the point where you had to get fake engaged. Even I can see it, and I don’t usually read into that crap. She’s got you wrapped around her finger, whether you like it or not. Don’t overthink it. Just pick your moment.”
I run a hand over my face, trying to calm the jittering nerves in my stomach. “But today? The ceremony, everyone watching, all the VIPs—I don’t want to make a fool of myself.”
I swallow, my eyes drifting back to Quinn. She’s laughing with Ella now, entirely unaware of the storm brewing in my chest.
Zane laughs softly, shaking his head. “Beck, it’s not about today being perfect. It’s about being honest. If you care, she’ll know. That’s all that matters.”
Jace nods, smirking but serious beneath it. “You’re in it, man. No backing out. Take a breath, then go get her. Trust me, you won’t regret it.”
I swallow hard, letting their words sink in. My chest feels a little lighter, my mind a little clearer. They’re right. This isn’t the time to second-guess myself. If I want her, if I want this, I have to take the step.
And I will.
The ceremony begins with a hush settling over the small, sunlit garden. Rows of chairs are filled with family, close friends, and a scattering of VIP guests who have come to witness Ava and Zane’s celebration.
A soft breeze carries the scent of fresh flowers, and I can hear Daisy whispering excitedly to Ella beside me, her little voice a steady reminder that joy is infectious. My eyes find Zane as he waits at the altar, shoulders squared, the smallest flicker of nerves betraying him. When Ava steps forward, radiant and impossibly composed in her gown, the gasp of admiration from everyone around me makes something inside tighten—pride, love, longing.
They exchange vows with ease, sincerity shining in every word, every glance. Zane’s voice is steady, but I see the tremor in his hands as he reaches for hers. Ava laughs softly at his smallmistakes, corrects them gently, and my chest clenches because the way they move together, support each other—it’s exactly what I want for myself.
I glance toward Quinn, who’s helping one of the photographers with her equipment. Her hair catches the light, her smile effortless, and for a moment I forget to breathe. She radiates calm control, grace, and warmth—everything I’ve been so drawn to. Every little thing she does reminds me why I’m falling faster than I ever imagined.
As Zane and Ava exchange rings, I feel a pang of longing. Honesty. Trust. Partnership. Passion. Laughter. The kind of love that sees you, supports you, and pushes you to be better without asking. All the things I want with Quinn.
By the time they share their first kiss as husband and wife, I’m trembling slightly—not from nerves for the couple but from the realization that I can’t hide what I feel anymore. My heart is theirs for the moment, yes, but a part of it aches to be shared with Quinn too.
I lean back, taking it all in—the family, the love, the unity—and silently vow that I won’t wait any longer to tell her how much she means to me.
As the applause dies down and the couple shares a few quiet words with their guests, I slip out of my seat, letting my gaze find Quinn. She’s helping tidy up, smoothing a crease in Daisy’s dress, laughing softly at something Ella says. The small, unguarded moments make my chest ache with something I can no longer ignore.
I take a deep breath, feeling the nerves coil and twist, but also a clarity I haven’t had before. I can’t wait any longer, can’t let this feeling linger another second without acting on it.
I need to tell her.
The question isn’t if—it’s how.
I glance around, looking for a private moment, just her and me, away from the bustling wedding. A quiet corner behind the veranda, maybe the small patio near the garden shed. Somewhere that isn’t the middle of a crowd, but close enough that the energy of the day still hums around us.
I straighten my shoulders, running a hand through my hair. Timing matters, but waiting for perfection? That’s a lie I won’t tell myself. I’ll take the risk, say what I feel, and let whatever comes, come.
My heart hammers, but there’s no fear—only the certainty that this is what I want. Her. Not someday. Not maybe. Right now.
I step forward, weaving through the remaining guests, scanning for her, rehearsing the words in my head: Quinn… I have to tell you something. I can’t hold it in any longer…
