Page 77 of Breaking the Cowboy's Rules

But did she feel the same?

He felt she did. The way she looked at him. Listened to him. Touched him. It felt like what he’d seen with Ashni and Beck for so many years. That friendship, trust and absorption—the two of them in their own bubble, always aware of the other, caring.

He was so nervous. Not sure when to propose. Did they eat first or after? He felt like he’d hurl if he tried to eat anything.

“Are you okay? Your fingers are icy, and you look pale. Are you worried about Beck?”

“No. He pulls it off or he doesn’t,” Bodhi said.

“But you designed this game to…”

“It’s always been about family.” Bodhi turned to face her, ignoring the music, the lights, the dancing, the kids running around playing games in the area Nico and Langston had set up, the people eating and laughing. It was just him and Nico on Plum Hill under a carpet of stars and the Montana evening breeze caressing his skin.

“Family.” He cupped her beloved face. “That is my most defining trait.” He needed her to understand. “I will always put my family first.”

Her eyes searched his. What she was looking for, he didn’t know, and then she closed off from him. He saw it happen, and he wanted to scream. Grab on to her, promise he’d never let her go because she, too, was now family, a critical piece of him, a piece he wouldn’t be whole without.

“I understand, Bodhi.” She laid her forehead against his, and he breathed her in. “I understand and…” She choked up. “I admire you so, so much and—”

“What are you doing?” Bodhi’s mother, Genevieve, interrupted. “We are throwing a party not death scene in aLord of the Ringsmovie. Eat. Dance. Talk to Granddad. We are making memories not slitting a vein.”

She walked off, back straight, head held high with a plate of steak and potato and salad that she handed to her father.

Nico laughed and pulled away from him. Her cheeks were flushed a beautiful pink.

“That scene encapsulates my entire life with her,” Bodhi said. “Interrupts, judges, minimizes the moment, informs you that you are ruining something far more important than yourself, and then tells you to get the fuck on with it.”

He laughed, but it sounded forced and as hollow as he felt.

This was his night, and he wasn’t going to let his mother bring him down.

“Oh, Bodhi.” Nico draped her arms around his neck and swayed to the music. “She does love you in her way. She does. She really was looking out for you when she and I talked. From her perspective, think about how much pain she must be in. For her to have such a tense relationship with her only child. For her husband to have died by suicide. To be a judge on the federal bench and see so much pain but not to have light in her life.”

Nico’s voice rang with passion.

Curious, Bodhi pulled away to look at Nico’s upturned face. Then he watched his mother. She sat stiffly in a chair next to her father and two sisters. A lot of people wandered by to chat with them, quite a few pulled up chairs. Langston’s father sat on a hay bale next to Ben Ballantyne. He wasn’t talking. He stared into the fire, his sinewy arms dangled between his legs. He looked empty. His haunted gaze met Bodhi’s and then shifted to Genevieve and stayed.

Bodhi had never thought about his mom’s perspective. His dad had left him. His mom was as warm as an ice bath and as forgiving as Attila the Hun. He’d never thought about why.

“I don’t deserve you,” he said.

“Yes, you do.” She feathered her knuckles along his cheekbone. “Whatever happens, Bodhi, whatever you decide I’m with you.” She touched her heart and then touched his, and her voice filled with resolution. “My heart is always with you if you’ll have me.”

*

“I’m going todo it.” Bodhi spoke with such determination, he sounded like he was heading off to war.

“Showtime?” Her stomach jumped into her throat. “Now?” Nico had been firing on nerves and passion and throwing herself into the moment. Let’s see how good her acting skills were. But her heart stuttered, which was stupid because she’d had to put on shows before in depositions, in conference room negotiations, in court.

“Don’t you want to get something to eat first? Greet your friends?”

“No, let’s do this. I’m ready.”

He looked as hot as the bonfire catching flame that the Ballantynes and two men she’d never seen before—one old like Ben but showing his years more and another still devastatingly handsome in middle age—sitting in a semicircle. Bodhi marched her up to his family. At the same moment Beck and Ashni, holding hands emerged from the backside of Plum Hill and joined them. Bowen and Langston held hands, beaming at each other more brightly than the strings of fairy lights.

This was it. Except she and Bodhi didn’t really have a role to play since it looked like Beck and Ashni had everything worked out.

Bodhi’s hand nearly crushed hers, but she didn’t dare try to wiggle out of his grip. She was free-falling. This was true improv in front of an audience that mattered. It was like trying to act her way out of a circular firing squad, and she didn’t want to let Bodhi down. She’d back whatever play he made.

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