Chapter 16 #2
I imagine running my fingertips and tongue across the raised flesh.
I itch to pepper kisses from his scarred hairline to his bearded jaw.
I want to lavish adoration to the corner of his right eye and side of his mouth that are pulled down from tight scar tissue—features that make him even more irresistible to me.
I want to tell him with my body how attractive I find him, because I have a feeling lip service means little to him.
I’m momentarily lost to my fantasies when I hear the pages rustle in his hands. Don’t even get me started on his hands. Now isn't the time to wax poetic about his enormous, calloused hands when he's about to eviscerate me with his sharp tongue.
“How could you do this?”
I open my mouth to plead my case when he continues.
“How could you know exactly what was in my head when I never told you? You’ve made my dream real, with a pen on paper. Like you saw the image straight out of my head.”
Incredulous eyes rapidly pass back and forth between my own. His brow is furrowed in confusion and a vulnerability veils his normally harsh expression.
“I’m so sorry, Reid. I saw your notebook this morning and I don’t know what came over me.
I never should’ve violated your privacy.
I saw the name of the ranch and it was like a bolt of lightning.
It felt so perfect for you and your dream that my hand started drawing on its own accord.
Please don’t be mad, I’m so, so sorry?—”.
He cuts me off by wrapping his strong arms around my shoulders and pulling me into his chest in a tight hug.
He’s hugging me.
HE’S. HUGGING. ME.
I relax into his hold and feel his heart beating against my shoulder, the rise and fall of his breaths pressing into my chest.
He releases his hold on me and walks to sit on the edge of the sofa. “Mad? I’m not mad.” He tilts his head to the side, a serious and cautious expression painting his face.
“A little scared that you’re clairvoyant or a witch. Because I sure as hell never told you what I imagined the ranch to look like, but you’ve somehow put it in my hands.”
This isn't how I thought this was going to go. Is he—happy? Happiness on Reid isn't something I'm accustomed to.
His joy lures me from the kitchen to join him on the couch. I bring my legs up beneath me crisscross and cover my bare legs with the blanket from the back of the sofa. Loose threads occupy my nervous hands.
“Why Lucky Spurs Ranch? It’s perfect, Reid. I can feel what it would be like to be there. It’s like you manifested it into reality.”
Reid runs his fingers over the indentations in the paper from my pen strokes.
“It’s my favorite story my grandpa ever told me.” The memory pulls his focus through the large living room window to the snow drifts beyond.
“My grandpa and his brothers were down at the rodeo and stock show in Denver. Some years they had livestock to show, or auctions to attend, but that year they were there for the hell of it. My grandpa had qualified for calf roping and made it to the finals. Being the youngest child, he was raised in hand-me-downs, so it was a huge surprise when his brothers gifted him a brand-new pair of spurs for luck in the rodeo finals” Pride shines in Reid’s hazel eyes.
“My grandpa was the best storyteller. The way he told stories made me feel like I was there.” He smiles and shakes his head reminiscing.
"The crowd was wild that day. My grandpa’s brothers stood by the chute ribbing him, but he was laser focused. He nodded his head, the chute swung open, and he and his horse moved as one. The rope sailed through the air, landed true, and he tied the calf’s legs in record time."
Reid chuckles. "The crowd went nuts, but it wasn’t just the victory that caught his attention. There, in the stands, was a girl in a red sundress cheering louder than anyone. The most beautiful girl he’d ever seen—he told me. He said he just knew .”
Energy zaps between us. He just knew . He pauses and I catch the flare of his nostrils and clench of his jaw.
He just knew . The intensity of his focus makes me wonder.
Does he just know about me? About us? I tear my eyes from him, my heart’s pounding and the back of my neck prickles with awareness.
No. I’m a fool for entertaining the fantasy.
Reid clears his throat and continues his story. “He only caught a glimpse before she disappeared into the sea of people. Of course, he still had to finish his event before he could go after her." He chuckles with mirth.
“In a split second, he’d stopped caring about the event and wanted to get the hell out of the arena.
He was so pissed he had to wait for the timer and the judge to signal he was done.
He dismounted to untie the calf and re-mount his horse to exit the arena.
His brothers were going wild, patting him on the back, hootin’ and hollerin’.
But his mind wasn’t with them—it was with the girl in the red dress.
He waited only long enough to get his score.
Fucking first place. Top prize. He looked to his brothers and told them to accept the buckle on his behalf and take care of his horse.
I can’t even imagine what was going through their heads.
He’d just won all the marbles and instead of celebrating, he was haulin’ ass to the fairgrounds like he was on fire. ”
The memory comes from him like waves of energy.
As I listen intently, my eyes roam taking in his features.
He's painfully handsome. The epitome of what a man should be. I’m so attracted to him I can barely focus most days.
His hair is finger-combed away from his face, when it usually hangs unceremoniously to shield him from the world.
His beard is longer from our time on the road.
I wring my hands to stop my fingers from sinking into it and tugging him to me.
His gorgeous lips are telling me a core memory from his heritage, his eyes lost in the past.
It isn’t that I don’t notice his scars, but they aren’t what I see when I look at him.
I see him . I see his strength, his resilience, the love he has for his family, and the loss he carries for Sam.
I see the potential for him to find happiness.
I see it when he speaks of the ranch he dreams of building, and of the ranch he remembers from his past.
"Did he find her?" I ask, enraptured by Reid’s story.
"Oh, he sure tried.” A breathtaking smile tugs at the taught side of his mouth.
“Spent the whole afternoon weaving through the fairgrounds—livestock pens, vendor stalls, even the live music events—searching. His brothers gave him hell for chasing after a girl instead of celebrating his win, but my grandpa didn’t care. "
I struggle to listen as he continues—his grin’s doing something funny to my heart.
"Just as the sun was setting and string lights lit up the fairgrounds, he spotted her laughing with a friend. My grandpa walked up, hat in hand, heart pounding. He said, Excuse me, Miss. I couldn’t help but notice you cheering back in the arena, I reckon you brought me luck ."
"What did she say?" I ask, enamored.
"She drawled, I’d say you did just fine on your own.
" Reid’s eyes soften. "That pretty girl in the red dress was my grandma.
The rest is history. Those spurs he wore that day have been displayed in our family room ever since.
Not because they were lucky in competition, but because they led him to her. "
He falls silent, his glimmering eyes flitting across my face. I can’t tell if the adoration he wears is for his grandparent’s love story, or for the person he’s telling it to.
We sit together in the quiet morning, watching the snow glitter in the rising sunlight. The wall between us has been crumbling, and it just received a devastating blow, trapping us beneath the rubble.