Fourteen
Annabeth
Ifloat into my room, my belly and heart fuller than I can possibly imagine after last night and this morning. Dallas drove us back to his property and we stopped to feed the horses together before heading inside for breakfast.
He was right, he can’t cook for shit. After four incredibly unsuccessful attempts to make toast, I decided to take over. Half an hour later, we were snuggled together at his breakfast bar eating farm-fresh scrambled eggs with grain-fed sausages and a tomato-onion mix I whipped up. It was glorious.
After breakfast, we took a stroll across the paddock and Dallas showed me the tire swing he’d built for Billie and the second chicken coop she’d insisted they get.
He laughed to himself as he told me about the day she’d convinced Colt to build it and how they’d taken a drive into town the following day to pick out the hens that Billie affectionately referred to as ‘The Dixie Chicks.’ I didn’t have the heart to tell him they were just ‘The Chicks’ now.
Colt had arrived home as we were walking back to the house, and we decided that instead of explaining ourselves, we’d just hide in the barn until the coast was clear.
All I’ll say on the matter is that Colt took his sweet-ass time, and the horses may have gotten a lot more than they bargained for this morning.
I chuckle to myself as I remember how Dallas had spun me around the barn, humming one of my favourite songs as we danced together.
I can still feel his calloused palms caressing my cheek and gliding across my hips.
I picture the creases in his eyes as he smiled at me, before tilting his hat back and leaning in for a kiss.
My phone buzzes violently from where it sits on my dresser, and I jump out of my skin before I answer on the fourth ring.
“Hey, Hannah.”
“Well howdy, stranger. You comin’ to karaoke tonight?”
“God, I forgot about that.”
“Better get blondie and polish up your boots then, hey, sweet cheeks?”
Her Southern accent always gets stronger when she’s excited. Hannah is the definition of a girls’ girl. Despite being a notorious gossip, which I suppose comes with the territory of owning the best diner in the area, she’s got a heart of gold and would do anything for anybody.
“Alright, count us in.”
“Good, we’ll see ya tonight. Love ya.”
“Love you too.”
She hangs up almost immediately, and I can hear her yelling at who I can only assume is Link as the line goes dead.
Well, I guess I better make myself look presentable.
River and Hannah are up on the make-shift stage that’s always laid out for karaoke night, I swear those two are like two unhinged peas in a pod. They stomp their boots together in perfect time to the song they’re belting, ‘Austin’ by Dasha, as always.
Hannah had made River learn the viral TikTok dance not long after she first moved to Fires Creek, and the two of them recount the story to anyone who will listen the moment they take a sip of bourbon.
I chuckle to myself as I watch them, knowing that in less than five minutes they’ll put on the fucking ‘Nutbush’ and Ella will drag my sorry ass to the dance floor to participate.
My little daydream is abruptly interrupted as Link slides into the booth beside me, a devilish grin on his face.
“Dear god, Link, what now?” I question him.
Link made sure Ella got a good deal on the bar, he had become a bit of a regular at what was once affectionately referred to as ‘ladies’ night.’ In fact, all of the partners came now, it had quickly become a free-for-all celebration when River started dragging her husbands along every month.
Everyone from Wattle Ridge to Hawks Hollow is connected in one way or another.
It’s part of why I love it here so much.
Everyone shows up to the bonfires, business launches, graduations, rodeos, you name it.
You could throw a rock and hit five cousins, a couple of spouses and a few tag-alongs – like me.
“I’m finally gonna do it,” he announces, his grin taking over his entire face.
My brows crease, and I look at him like he’s lost his mind. To be honest, since dating Hannah, he probably has. That girl is as wild and effervescent as they come. “What in the ever-loving fuck are you talking about, Link?”
“I’m gonna ask Hannah to marry me.”
I squeal, and the sound seems to carry, because all of a sudden the music fades and the entire diner is staring at us like we just invaded a peace treaty.
“What are you lovebirds gossiping about?” Hannah calls from the stage.
Link looks like he’s seen a ghost, and the gulp that emits from his mouth is something otherworldly. Shit, nice going, Annabeth.
Hannah sashays across the room, plonking herself onto Link’s lap and smirking at me. “Share with the class,” she teases.
All I can do is sit here and panic, terrified that I’m going to blow his cover and blurt out my excitement. It’s been all of two seconds, I haven’t even had time to process this amazing news, let alone keep it bottled up.
I open my mouth to come up with an excuse, but Link beats me to it. Suddenly, he’s whisking her up in his arms, twirling her before planting her feet on the ground and taking her hands in his.
Hannah frowns at him, clearly confused and then, he drops to one knee, pulls out a box and literally shouts, “Hannah fucking Jensen, you’re a madwoman. You’re a pain in my ass, and the only thing in this life that holds any bloody meaning. Fucking marry me, baby!”
The entire diner erupts in cheers and the look on Hannah’s face says everything without her uttering a single word. She lunges for him, and I feel tears well in my eyes as the scene unfolds.
“Drink up, bitches. This is now, officially, my engagement party!” Hannah yowls before wrapping herself into her fiancé’s arms.
A hand brushes my shoulder, and I turn my head towards its owner, only to find myself, yet again, face to face with Dallas at an event I did not expect to see him at.
“Firefly,” he muses.
“Thought you didn’t get out much?” I quip.
He smiles, his face softening as he replies, “Colt needed a ride, and I knew you’d be here.”
“Me?”
“Yes, Annabeth, you.”
I’m speechless. Surely I’m in some weird fever dream and imagining this entire scenario, because let’s face it, that’s something I would do.
“I… uhh…” I begin, though I have no idea what words I’m even attempting to produce.
“Walk with me.” It’s not a question, but the way he says it feels more like an offer than an outright demand.
Dallas takes my hand, and before I know it, we’re out by the river that surrounds the back of the diner, sitting in the tray of his ute, sipping a beer.
The stars dance in the sky, the faint echo of ‘Nutbush’ vibrates through the woodlands surrounding us.
I can’t help but laugh as I picture the sheer chaos that I know is unravelling inside Maverick’s.
It’s not every day the owner gets engaged, especially with half the town in attendance.
A sliver of something unfamiliar washes over me as I watch Dallas sip his beer.
If I thought his lips were a problem for me before, it’s a thousand times worse now that I know what those lips are capable of.
The filthy things that those lips produce, not to mention what they feel like suctioned to my body…
I quiver at the thought, shaking it off before Dallas catches wind of my sudden uhh… discomfort?
As if sensing my need for distraction, Dallas pipes up, “Bit of a surprise, hey? Never thought he’d finally ask her.” A warm smile creeps right up to those hazel eyes that have had me in a chokehold since I met him.
“I know. I was so worried I’d blown his cover,” I reply, sheepishly.
The silence lingers for a moment too long before Dallas clears his throat and asks, “Do you wanna dance?”
“I’d love to, cowboy.”
He takes my hand, our fingers entwining as he stands and lifts me from the tray. As if he already knows my body in ways I can’t describe, his free hand finds my waist instinctively, nestling perfectly against the denim.
Dallas and I slowly trace boot circles in the dirt beneath us – keep in mind, we’re currently slow-dancing to the fucking ‘Nutbush’ – as he says, “I’m starting to think this is going to become a regular occurrence for us.”
“What, sneaking around in the dark?” I ask with a giggle.
“I meant dancing, but I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of sneaking around in the dark either.”
He releases his hand from my waist, twirling me in a circle and reeling me back in until we’re so close our noses almost touch. Déjà vu washes over me, and my mind immediately takes me back to the nights we’ve spent at the lookout.
The sunsets, well, night times in general, really are spectacular here. Crickets trill off in the distance, the moonlight glistens off the water like diamonds, the faint burgundy hues of Fires Creek’s infamous sunsets slowly drift behind the mountain.
Stars scatter every inch of the skyline, making way only for the moon to shine its light down across the valley. A gentle breeze rolls in from the water as my head slowly falls to meet Dallas’s chest. I hear the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, which slows ever so slightly as I nestle into him.
“Firefly,” he says, as if he’s confirming to himself that I’m here.
His chin drops to rest against the top of my head, the roughness of his beard a quiet comfort as he presses a kiss on my crown. My arms curl around him, my fingers softly tracing the outline of the tattoo on his forearm.
“Dallas.”
I’m lost in space and time as we sway together in silence, with nothing but the sounds of nature to guide us.
The music from inside the diner still thumps away, but we lose track of what’s playing.
It doesn’t matter. It feels like part of me has resurfaced, or maybe it’s been resurrected.
Maybe this was never here to begin with, or it was here in a past life.
All I know is that nothing has, or likely ever will, feel as perfect as how it feels to be with Dallas.