Page 65 of Tempted By the Broken Cowboy
Beck takes his hand without hesitation. “She’s done more than that,” he says, his tone softer, heavier with meaning. His eyes flick to me and hold just a little too long.
“God, you two are disgusting already,” Louis mutters, rolling his eyes. “Don’t tell me you’re actually going to go through with this engagement stunt.”
“Engagement stunt?” Landon echoes, arching a brow at me, then at Beck. “Pretty sure I saw the way you looked at her just now. Doesn’t look fake to me.”
I feel heat bloom in my cheeks. “Can you two not gang up on me at my boyfriend’s family barbecue?”
“Boyfriend,” Landon repeats with mock surprise. “She said it. Out loud! Someone write that down.”
“You’re impossible,” I grumble, swatting his arm.
“Relax, sis. We’re just happy to see you happy,” Louis says, and for once, the teasing fades from his voice.
Landon nods, clapping Beck’s shoulder again, this time gentler. “Don’t screw it up, man. She deserves the world. Always has.”
“I know,” Beck says simply. His voice doesn’t waver, and when his eyes find mine, I almost forget to breathe.
The moment stretches until someone calls my brothers over to the food table. They wander off, still tossing jokes over theirshoulders. I laugh, but the sound falters when I realize they’ve come alone.
Of course, they didn’t come—my parents and older brother Rhett.
I knew they wouldn’t, but hope is a stubborn thing. A small, foolish part of me had prayed tonight would be different, that they’d see this new chapter of my life, of Beck’s life, and maybe choose to be a part of it. Instead, all I have is the hollow ache of their absence and the quiet reminder that in their eyes, nothing is settled until the deal is signed.
I square my shoulders and paste the smile back on my face. They’ll come around, I tell myself. Once the contract is official and I’ve proven myself, they’ll have no choice but to see me, and Beck, with new eyes.
Until then, I cling to what I do have: Beck’s hand brushing against mine, the warmth of his family folded in with my own, and this redeeming night.
The yard keeps buzzing with activity as more people arrive.
“Good to see you back on your feet, son,” an older rancher says, shaking Beck’s hand firmly.
“Proud of you, Beck,” another claps him on the back.
Each greeting chips away at the invisible wall that used to stand between him and the rest of the world. I see the gratitude in hiseyes, the way he swallows hard as if he doesn’t quite know what to do with so much kindness.
I lean closer, my voice soft. “Told you they’d come around.”
He smirks faintly, though his throat works with emotion. “Miracles do happen.”
My heart swells, watching him like this—accepted, forgiven, seen. It’s everything I’ve wanted for him.
The band strikes up a tune, but halfway through, Ava joins them, whispering to the musicians. A murmur runs through the crowd as she takes the microphone, her smile luminous under the lights.
“This one’s for family,” she says, her voice carrying easily. “For second chances.”
And then she sings.
Her voice is clear and soulful, weaving through the night air, drawing everyone closer. Couples sway, some stand with arms folded tight against their chests, others clap along softly. I glance at Beck, and he’s not watching Ava at all—he’s watching me.
The song builds, full of promise and light, and something in me aches with how far we’ve both come. I can’t look away from him, from the raw emotion in his eyes. It’s too much and not nearly enough.
When the last note fades, the crowd erupts in cheers. Ava laughs, blowing a kiss, and the music picks up again, lively and bright. People are quick to return to dancing, eating, laughing, as if the night itself has been cleansed of old grudges.
Beck exhales, his shoulders finally loose. “Guess I’m officially forgiven.”
“Guess you are,” I whisper, slipping my hand into his. And for once, I don’t care who sees.
The band swings into a lively number, and people spill onto the makeshift dance floor—just the open stretch of grass beneath the string lights. Laughter echoes, boots scuff against the earth, skirts twirl.
