CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
P aisley makes another pass in front of my office door. Her hands are fidgety as if she’s juggling something hot. I’ve given up trying to concentrate on anything other than counting her laps. This is the eleventh sweep she’s done. The next will be her last.
“Twinkles,” I holler.
She pokes her head inside. “Hi.”
The expense reports on my desk are completely forgotten once she’s fully in view. Her usual cowgirl attire flatters her curves. It pleases me beyond comprehension to see her in clothes I bought. I love to provide for her, and plan to do so at every available opportunity.
My chair squeaks as I stand to get a better look. “Why are you pacing?”
“I wanted to… um, ask you something.” Her nerves fuel mine.
My gut tenses as I motion for her to come closer. “ Out with it.”
She pauses about halfway and rocks in her boots. “Are you busy?”
“Yes”—I hold up a palm when she begins backing away—“but I’m never too busy for you.”
“I thought we could go somewhere, like on a trail ride. It’s a beautiful day to be outside. Together.” She gulps and wrings her fingers again. “And then we can talk.”
“About what?” Consider my suspicion piqued.
“Us? You? Me? The weather?” She laughs, and the tune is a bit breathless.
I narrow my eyes at the missing pieces. That doesn’t stop me from telling her, “Okay.”
Paisley blinks. “Okay?”
“I love spending time with you, wifey.” After shutting down my computer, I saunter to where she’s stalled. “Especially for no reason other than to get to know each other better.”
“Same.”
I gather her hand in mine, leading us to the nearest exit. We step into the sunshine and I tip my head to the sky. She was right about the temperature. Late September can be finicky, but this afternoon is mild. It feels damn good to take advantage before the snow flies.
I have this woman beside me to thank for that.
“One horse? Or two?” My wife squints up at me as we approach the barn.
My fingers clamp against hers. “I wouldn’t mind going double with you.”
She grabs a halter off a hook near the hitching posts. “Ritzy, Maverick, or Echo? ”
“Doesn’t make a difference to me. Whichever you choose.” But my eyes drift to the buckskin mare.
Paisley’s smile is warmer than the rays above while she heads straight for my mom’s cherished steed. “Should we go bareback?”
My gaze is glued to her ass as she slips through the fence. “Don’t we always?”
Her bottom lip is trapped between her teeth when she glances at me hanging off the boards. “I suppose.”
Hinges creak as I open the gate for her to bring Echo out of the pen. “We don’t need a saddle. This one will give us a gentle ride.”
“Which is actually true, unlike you.” Whatever tension she was carrying earlier drifts away with a throaty laugh.
“You’re the one always begging for me to go harder, wife.”
Her lashes flutter, a blush coloring her cheeks. “Maybe you know me too well already.”
“Gonna dig a little deeper. Giddy up.”
That prompts her to fling the lead rope over the mare’s neck. A quick knot attaches the loose end to the other side of her halter, creating makeshift reins. My brows rise at her confidence in our mount.
“No bridle either?”
“We’re throwing caution to the wind.” Paisley tosses her head to let a gust thread through her blonde waves.
And her reckless spirit spurs mine, not that there’s anything to worry about.
My palm smooths along Echo’s golden coat. She might be a barrel racing champion, but she’s also trained to be safe and reliable. That’s why Mom treated her like a third child. This buckskin can do no wrong.
I ditch my hat so I’m not constantly thumping Paisley with the brim. While using Echo’s wither as a handhold, I swing astride the mare’s back in a practiced motion. My ass scoots backward to make room for my wife.
Paisley chomps on her bottom lip. “You make everything look sexy, cocky cowboy.”
My brows waggle and I extend an arm toward her. “Need a boost?”
“No,” she huffs. But her boots remain planted on the ground.
Without hesitation, I lean over and grip the waistband clinging to her rear. A strong tug hauls her up in front of me. Paisley fumbles and squirms before securing her seat. The huff she releases wants to smack me.
“Good quality jeans. Worth every penny.” I wedge a palm into her rhinestone pocket and get a grip.
“No limits,” my wife mutters while nudging Echo forward.
She lets me hold her like that while steering the mare toward the path between the pastures. I’m tempted to slip in my other hand for additional support. But in truth, it would only serve to cup a butt cheek.
The strain already pinching in my arm demands that I switch position, revealing it’s not comfortable for either of us. Instead, my fingers wrap around her hip and pull her tighter against me. We sway in tandem to Echo’s slow gait.
“What should we talk about?” My hands wander along her thighs, roaming higher to circle her middle .
Paisley twists slightly to catch my gaze. “Ask me anything. I’m an open book.”
Laughter presses my chest flush against her. “Oh, we’re playing that game.”
“Figured it was time.”
“Gonna take turns?” We’ve been traveling along a two-way street lately, but I fucked up enough to know this could still be one-sided.
But my wife is too forgiving. “It’s only fair, husband.”
I nuzzle into the crook of her neck, scratching her with my stubble. “What’s your favorite pizza topping?”
Her hum is conflicted. “I only get one?”
“Those are the rules.”
“Since when do we have those?”
My insatiable hunger for her races upward to palm her breast. “Only when necessary.”
She gasps when I squeeze slightly. “Pepperoni.”
“Mine too.” I glide my fingers down to reclaim a more modest hold on her. We don’t have many restrictions, but screwing around on horseback is just plain dumb.
Paisley relaxes into my embrace, trusting Echo to walk straight ahead. “If you could go anywhere in the world, where would you go?”
“Wherever you are.”
She exhales a twinkly tune. “What a line.”
“Doesn’t make it less true.” I press a kiss to her slender throat. “If you could go back, would you stay away from me?”
“No,” she says without delay.
“You’re happy? ”
“That’s two.” Her elbow bumps into my stomach. “Cheater.”
A harsh rumble rolls off me to reject the notion. “Never. You’re the only one for me, wife.”
“Do you love me?” Paisley’s voice is soft, the breeze almost carrying away the uncertain tone.
“Yes,” I exhale beside her ear.
She shivers and reclines against me. “Since when?”
“Now who isn’t playing by the rules?” But my scold is a flimsy barb. “Our honeymoon. There was magic in that cabin.”
“The hot tub and boat weren’t too shabby either. I could tell something was happening.”
That acknowledgement has me tightening my grip. “You felt it?”
Her nod bumps into me. “My heart was warming up to you, but then I found out you’d lied. Again.”
I flinch. “Have I redeemed myself?”
“Mostly.”
My gut lurches. “Does that mean you love me too?”
Paisley tilts sideways to stamp her mouth onto mine. “Yes.”
There’s a clench in my chest before the pressure releases. It’s like a key turning into a lock to grant entry. I instantly feel lighter. The warm sensation that I’ve recently tied to comfort begins spreading through me. If I only listened sooner, we could’ve established this bond at the beginning. But we’re here now.
My arms form an unbreakable cinch around her. “Damn, Twinkles. I needed to hear that. It’s the most valuable thing anyone has ever said to me. ”
“I’ve never been in love before,” she admits. “There’s a decade and countless experiences separating us. That doesn’t mean I’m foolish or take this step lightly. Please don’t break my heart, husband.”
The request carves a singular priority into the depths of my soul. “This is a first for me too. I’ll never give you reason to doubt me again. You’re all that matters to me. Now and forever. I want you to depend on me, and trust me completely.”
“I already do. You can rely on me too. I’m here for you, whatever you need.” Her hand settles over mine.
A drum bangs against my sternum and I inhale a deep breath. “That means a lot. I don’t have many people in my inner circle. You’re very important to me, wife.”
Paisley doesn’t respond, at least not right away. A heaviness settles between us. I flex against the forceful friction, angry that it’s intruding. That jittery energy returns and she toys with the lead rope in her grip.
“If you ever want to talk about your mom, I’m a really great listener. No pressure,” she rushes to add.
And that urgent clarification is my fault. Guilt sits heavy in my gut like a stone.Sunshine still bathes us, but there’s a chill in the air. It’s not fair for me to expect her to dive tits first when I’m still holding back.
This conversation is long overdue.
“Let’s get off over there.” I point to the large willow swaying in the breeze.
She guides us in that direction without question. Once we’ve stopped, I slide off Echo’s rump before grabbing my wife. Her dedication shadows me while I tie the horse to a fence post .
A burst of wind kicks fallen leaves across our boots. I settle at the tree’s base with the trunk supporting my back. Paisley folds herself onto the ground next to me, but she isn’t close enough. My arm curls around her and pulls until she’s pressed into my side.
Words gather before scurrying away like bad choices. The air changes, sweeping in a somber mood. There’s a ball forming in my throat just from poking at this wound.
A throbbing pushes at the base of my skull and I clench my eyes shut. “I’m not good at this shit, which shouldn’t be shocking.”
Paisley lifts her gaze to search mine. “You don’t have to—”
My kiss steals her voice. “I’m sorry for how I treated you at the funeral.”
“Don’t apologize about that,” she blurts. “I shouldn’t have approached you. We were strangers, and I stuck my nose into your grief.”
I caress the velvet of her cheek with a bent knuckle. “You were trying to offer condolences. I was just too damn stubborn to accept it. Mom was probably ashamed of me at that point already.”
“No, she could never be disappointed in you.”
My snort is hollow. “Ever the optimist, Twinkles. I admire that. You’ve given me reason to believe in selfless compassion.”
Her expression brightens. “Really?”
“And every other good quality a person can possess. That’s you, wrapped in sparkle and glitter.”
Paisley sighs and drapes herself halfway on top of me. “I’ll make a romantic out of you yet, husband. ”
“Don’t doubt it for a second.” Shit, I’m already a sap for this woman. “In case you didn’t notice, I don’t open up easily. I’ve never expressed myself with a wide range of feelings. Until you.”
“That semi-sweet side might be earning its full potential,” she croons.
“You bring out these visceral reactions. I don’t need to bottle it up when you’re here.” My next exhale is a loud stream. “Ever since my mom died, there’s this hole inside of me that just gapes open. I buried myself in work, pushing to make more money. Anything to ignore the pain. It worked in keeping me numb. But what kind of life is that? I have my dad to thank for snapping me out of it. Without his contractual obligation, I would’ve ignored the greatest gift practically dropped at my feet.”
“Don’t let Bianca hear you give him all the credit. She put me directly in your path to begin with,” Paisley reminds.
“Both of them had an equal influence,” I amend.
“And we’re grateful.”
“Pure sunshine, wife.” I drop a kiss on her forehead. “We didn’t know each other at the funeral, but I knew your connection to my mom. There was this… animosity building inside of me against you. I was jealous of your relationship with her. Such an effortless attachment that thrives on emotional support. Loyal and fierce and irreplaceable. It’s similar to what she shared with Bianca, but I can’t hate my sister for it.”
“But you could resent me.” The pain in her voice cuts me deep.
“Unfairly so,” I murmur. “Mom would talk about you, and I’d tune her out. Fuck, that makes me feel like such an asshole now.”
“It’s okay.” Paisley lifts a palm to cradle my clenched jaw. “We found our way.”
The ache in my chest softens into a dull pang. My gaze shifts to the sky as my pulse soars. “I feel her presence a lot.”
Paisley focus follows mine. “I do too.”
“Yeah?”
“Especially since we’ve gotten together. I think she approves.” She blinks rapidly, shuttering unshed tears.
I hold her left hand in mine, our rings clinking together. “It’s the barbwire.”
Her nail traces along a strand of my tattoo. “We’re buckled and bound and beloved.”
A sting burns across the bridge of my nose. “If only she were here to see it.”
Another strong gust whips across the open field and my wife shivers. “Maybe she is.”
Comfortable silence descends like a warm blanket. I’d originally thought this emotional overload would lead to us making love. That no longer feels right in this moment. A better alternative surfaces, settling deep in my bones.
“Can I just”—I gulp around the lump in my throat and crush her impossibly closer—“hold you for a little while?”
Paisley sniffles while snuggling into me. “I’d love nothing more.”