Page 117 of Marry Me, Maybe?
“You saying you want me to talk to you more about things I’m going through?”
“Yeah, don’t shut me out.”
“Okay, I promise.” He squeezed my hand. “Ready to go home?”
I nodded, still amazed that after the size of his family’s spread, he could call my little cottage home.
27
MATTY
Iclosed the book softly, letting the last line linger in the air. Ivy had been asleep for a while now, and I’d switched from reading to her to just reading aloud to the room, my voice low and easy, the kind of cadence that might even lull me under if I wasn’t careful.
She lay on her side, her cheek pillowed on one small hand, the other clutching the blanket like it was keeping her anchored. Her mouth was parted in that deep, trusting sleep little kids have, the kind that came after a day of running and laughing and wearing yourself out in the best ways.
I set the book on the nightstand and just… looked at her. I wasn’t even sure when I’d started doing that, memorizing the tiny curve of her nose, the faint shadow of lashes against her cheeks, the way she kicked the blanket off and then reached for it again even in her sleep.
Leaning down, I brushed a kiss across her forehead. “I love you,” I whispered, “as much as I love your daddy.” The words came out easier than I’d expected, like they’d been sitting there waiting.
I pulled the blanket up to her chin, smoothed it flat, andstepped back from the bed. On my way to the door, I gave the lamp a final glance—still dim enough to keep the room soft—then pulled the door nearly closed.
The hallway was quiet. I’d left Hudson collapsed onto the couch after the wrestling it had taken for him to bathe Ivy. I poked my head into the bedroom. Maybe Hudson had already crashed, but the steam curling out from the bathroom door told me otherwise. He was humming low, aimless notes, and he sounded happy.
I slipped into the kitchen, where the evening light was sliding in gold across the counter. The dinner plates still sat in the sink. I rolled up my sleeves and got to work, rinsing, then stacking them in the rack of the new dishwasher. The mindless task soothed me.
When the dishes were done, I wandered into the living room, folded the blanket Ivy had left on the couch, and set a few of her toys in the basket by the fireplace. The place looked much better with the new rug, furniture, and fresh coat of paint. It looked like a home for a loving family.
That thought still caught me sometimes. That I had a family of my own. It might be new, but that was exactly what we were.
Over the past four years, I’d poured my energy into Reins of Hope, the charity I’d founded based on my family’s outreach work. Our work was diverse from rescuing, rehabilitating, and rehoming abused horses to raising money for the children’s home, the local schools, scholarships, and the fire department made up mostly of volunteer staff.
Lately, my life had taken on a new rhythm. Mornings didn’t just mean feed schedules and moving cattle. They meant cereal bowls and morning walks with Ivy on Hudson’s days off to give him a few more hours to sleep in. Evenings weren’t spent eating with the other ranch hands,then going for a drink at The Dusty Spur. They were the three of us on the couch, or Ivy chattering through bath time while Hudson looked like he’d gone pearl diving.
I still loved my work, but this… this was a different kind of full.
The water shut off, and the faint hum of the pipes went quiet. Hudson had finished with his shower. Moving faster, I finished tucking the rest of Ivy’s toys into the basket, then straightened the rug.
Alldone. Now Hudson doesn’t have to worry about cleaning up.
On the way to our bedroom, I peeked in on Ivy, pleased to see she was tuckered out. She should be. When we got home, I’d taken her outside to play while Hudson made dinner. My dad had installed a swing for her at the ranch, so I put up a basketball net in the backyard to steal his cool points.
It worked.
Hudson was in the bedroom, standing near the bed with a towel slung low on his hips, hair damp and curling at the ends. He was running another towel over his shoulders, mopping up the drops of water trailing down his chest. When I entered, he grinned in that slow, lazy way that made something flip in my stomach.
“Hey,” he said, voice warm. “Ivy out?”
“Yeah, for a while now, while you were taking your sweet-ass time in the shower.”
He untucked the towel and dropped it just enough to give me a peek at his curvy backside and winked. “You mean this sweet thang?”
My gaze locked there, and for a second, all I could think about was closing the distance, getting my hands on him, and bending him over the bed.
“Fuck, Hud,” I rasped, my voice lower than I’d meant it to be. “You can’t flash me that and expect me to behave.”
He laughed, smug and knowing, and used the towel to swat my hip. “Uh-uh. Shower. Now. I want you clean before I let you anywhere near me.”
I clutched my heart dramatically. “Meanwhile, I’m here thinking about how good you smelled when you were all sweaty and wild yesterday as I fucked you in the hayloft.”
