Page 73 of Any Cowboy of Mine
“But how could I ever write anything as amazing as this?” he countered. She playfully slugged him on the shoulder and sat up, gathering her undergarments and lazily putting them back on. Brad watched with dismay as she reversed the show she had put on for him just moments before.
“Like I said, sap.” She winked at him and his heart fluttered. As did other, more dominant parts of him that he tried to ignore for the time being.
“I’m sorry our Valentine’s Day is held hostage by our thoughtless friends,” he said, meaning it. All three of the major holidays he’d shared with Sophie had been taken over by Jackie and Steve in one way or another, and he selfishly wanted Sophie all to himself to celebrate privately. They’d agreed not to share gifts this Valentines, arguing that the farmhouse was a shared gift to each other. Brad may or may not have listened to her argument and bought her something anyway, something he couldn’t wait to give her. She’d be mad he broke their agreement, but he was pretty damn sure she’d end up forgiving him.
“Don’t be. I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else than here. Plus, I plan to make this holiday count tonight, remember?” she teased.
“As if I could forget,” Brad said, trailing his hand along her sheer dress where he had insider knowledge that the top of her bra barely covered her nipples. She gasped as his finger slid underneath, moved south to her perky buds, before he stepped back and reluctantly let her finish getting redressed.
Finally, looking as perfect as when they’d broken into the bridal suite, she turned to face him.
“You ready, Connors?” she asked him.
“Just about. Go ahead downstairs, and I’ll follow you in a sec. I’ve got to check on something.”
Shrugging her shoulders, Sophie smiled. “Just don’t take too long. I don’t think I can handle getting trapped into another car transformation discussion with Steve’s dad.”
“You bet. I’ll be down soon to save you if he tries anything again.”
“I love you, Brad.”
His heart swelled against his chest, threatening to explode.
“I love you, too, Sophie.”
As she walked out of the room, Brad went to his high school desk, which his mother had made into a makeshift makeup counter for Jackie and her makeup artist. He moved the white sheet that had been laid down to cover the engravings of “Brad+ Pamela Anderson” and other embarrassing etchings from his past and opened the top drawer.
There, he found the small box that he’d hidden away in there a week ago, knowing full well Sophie would never think to snoop through his old desk.
He opened it, and as always happened when he saw the two-carat circle-cut diamond ring inside, his heart did backflips and his pulse quickened. He’d never been so sure of anything in his life, closing the box and tucking it in the breast pocket of his jacket. Not writing, not buying the farmhouse from his folks; though both of those life choices were part of his fate, his future happiness lay with the woman he’d just let walk out of the room. She was the glue that held it all together for him, made the rest of it worth the work.
Unable to shake the grin from his face, Brad headed down the stairs to meet his friends and family, anxious for them to share in the secret Valentine’s gift he held tight to his chest.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
The Valentine Promise
Sophie walked downthe staircase in a lust-filled daze. Post-sex moments with Brad were some of the happiest she’d spent, and she only lamented that they couldn’t linger up in his childhood bedroom for the rest of the night, pleasing each other on and off, more the former than the latter, she knew from experience.
It wasn’t like the sex was the only thing in the relationship that worked, though, nor was it her favorite part of being with Brad. The lovemaking got better each time they did it, and their first time had already been the best sex of her life. But still, she loved other aspects so much more. Like when she’d wake up to find him looking over at her, a soft smile on his face. Or when he thought she wasn’t looking and he buried his hands in his hair in frustration at the computer, and she knew the two things that could get him out of that funk, guaranteed.
Her most cherished time with Brad, however, had been making the move to the farm. When his mom had asked Brad what he thought about the idea at that first family dinner Sophie had been invited to, he said he thought she’d never ask. Marge had cried, Paige had squealed with joy about being so close to one another, Sophie had laughed, and Brad had hugged his parents tightly. Even Owen had wiped a few stray tears from his cheeks before clapping his brother-in-law on the shoulder, welcoming him as a neighbor. In all her days, Sophie didn’t think she’d ever forget what it felt like to be part of a family like that, what it meant for her future with Brad. The love and support was unlike anything she’d had as a kid, and she would never take it for granted.
The arrangements and sale had been made rather quickly when Sophie thought about the fact that it went from an idea to moving into the farm in a little over a week. Marge and Alan had taken the money Brad paid for the farm—only a fraction of what he had earned with the recent sale of his novels, but still more than their asking price—and retired to town, where their only responsibility was picking what restaurant to dine in each evening, which dance lessons Marge wanted to drag Alan to next. Though Sophie knew by the glint in his eyes at Sunday dinners that a leisurely life with his wife was Alan’s dream come true, a reward for all the hard work and sacrifice that had preceded it.
The other life-changing news was that Sophie had taken Brad up on his request for her to move in with him without giving it a second thought. It was the easiest decision she’d ever made. Paige flipped out again that they were going to be neighbors, that girls’ nights were going to be brought back in full force. Sophie had to admit, Paige and Owen were the best neighbors Brad and Sophie could have asked for. Brad hired Owen to help tend to the land, and Paige and her best friend Aurelie had offered to do some pro bono medical work for the children of the women Sophie was helping leave abusive relationships.
As different as Paige and her older brother were from each other, and her, the love she felt for them both filled the gaps in her heart that longed for a family. Plus, now she had connections in the medical world that helped the women she’d begun serving at her firm.Herfirm. That didn’t take much getting used to, but she had to admit, every time she thought about it, or saw her name on the signs or letterheads, she wanted to scream into the pink, fluffy pillow from her youth that she’d done it—she finally had everything she ever wanted. And more.
The only snag had been giving up her apartment, and the life she’d built for herself, with Jackie. Nostalgia hung heavy in the air as she and Jackie painted over the colors they had rolled on the walls a few years prior—and flung on each other in an epic paint fight that still made Sophie laugh to recall. But as soon as Brad had shown up with his truck to help her move, complete with a bouquet of daisies and a new house key for her, she’d not looked back once.
Since then, they’d taken their time christening each room, only pausing briefly before making the master suite their own, neither willing to think about Alan and Marge’s time there. Every generation of Connors had made their families in that room, though, and the ghosts kept each other busy, with very little interruption as Brad and Sophie worked on doing the same.
It had been such a special time for Sophie, watching Brad build and fix things like his writing studio to his taste, only to stop and make sure she was involved in every other room in the house, every small detail. When she’d lived with Drew for a short time after law school—a “very temporary” move, he’d assured her—he hadn’t allowed her to move any of her things into the apartment. She’d been able to keep only enough clothes for a single drawer, and the rest he’d made her put in storage, claiming her style didn’t match with his.
Glancing around at how she and Brad had both left their imprint on the farmhouse, she felt giddy imagining all the memories they would make there together. Maybe, someday, they’d even get to introduce another generation to the home. The idea made her woozy with desire.
“Where have you been? Though your red cheeks probably speak for themselves,” Jackie said, calling Sophie out of her daydreams. Jackie giggled. “Is it just me, or did the maid of honor get lucky before the bride?”
