Epilogue
Colt
Six Months Later
The late May sun beats down on my shoulders as I lean against the pasture fence, watching Maisie’s twins chase each other through the tall grass. Six months old now, they’re all I hoped they’d be. Strong, healthy, full of spirit.
The blue roan filly inherited her mama’s coloring and temperament, while the bay colt got his sire’s build and his grandmother’s fire. We named them Noel and Holly, a nod to the Christmas season when everything in my life changed.
“They’re getting big.” Hallie appears at my side with two bottles of water. As she hands me one, I pull her close, breathing in the vanilla scent that always clings to her.
“Yep. Joel thinks Noel’s gonna be a champion. Got that same elegant gait of Maisie’s.” This operation couldn’t run without our ranch manager.
Hallie leans into me, fitting perfectly against my side as if she was custom made for the spot. “And Holly?”
“Holly’s gonna be trouble. Just like another girl I know.” I drop a kiss on top of my girl’s strawberry-blonde hair, grinning when she swats my chest.
The twins race toward the far end of the pasture, where Maisie grazes peacefully.
The birth had been touch and go. Joel and I spent eighteen hours in that barn, with the vet on standby.
But Hallie had been there the whole time, bringing coffee and cookies for Maisie, sitting with me in the quiet moments when I was too anxious to do anything but wait.
When Noel finally came, slick and gangly and perfect, I’d looked over at Hallie with tears in my eyes. And when Holly followed twenty minutes later, smaller but just as fierce, Hallie had been the one to hand me a towel, her own eyes wet.
“You thinking about that night?” she asks now, like she can read my mind. Hell, maybe she can. We’ve gotten pretty good at that over the last six months.
“Yeah. Scary as hell, but worth every second.” I turn to face her fully, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “You know what else was worth it?”
“What’s that, cowboy?”
“Being in that damn bachelor auction.” I lean in for a kiss, slow and sweet.
Funny how life is. My boy Gentry finally got his Christmas wish granted and is dating my sister.
I won’t be surprised if they run off to Vegas and get hitched.
Nate and Liz are exclusive, and I’ve never seen her happier.
Hallie even started doing business with Liz, selling a variety of artisan breads and scones exclusive to The Tea Spot. They’ve come a long way.
And so has Sawyer Farms. I locked down a massive deal with Echo Ridge—yeah, that Echo Ridge.
Getting Zane Wyatt’s stamp of approval hit me harder than I expected.
Said our quarter horses are the kind of stock a ranch could build a legacy on.
Coming from one of the most successful cattle ranchers in the world, it hit good.
Hallie’s arms slide around my neck with a contented sigh.
“You are so much more than anything I wished for in high school. You have a glass of wine waiting at my duplex on long days, my kitchen spotless. You pay attention, except when the Spurs are playing, but that’s alright. I know how to distract you.”
My dick tightens at the memory of Hallie on her knees. Why does she think I ignore her now during sports? It’s my favorite part of watching it on TV.
“And you showed up at every performance of My Fair Lady just to cheer me on.”
“Who else was going to sit between Harrison and Lorelai?”
“Their parents? And that was one show, Colt.”
I lean in, capturing her mouth. I loved watching her on stage, shining in her element. Her lips part, inviting me in, and I can’t help but groan as the taste of her floods my senses. Heat blooms between us like wildfire, and I back her slowly against the fence, my hands memorizing every curve.
“Colt.” Her words whisper against my mouth, rough with need.
I let my hands wander to her waist, pulling her closer until I can feel her heartbeat racing against my chest. The world narrows to just us, her fingers threading through my hair, tugging enough to send electricity curling down my spine.
She bites my lower lip gently, and something primal awakens inside me, my restraint unraveling with each passing second. My cock is hard as fuck, leaking in want.
My fingers slip underneath her shirt, skimming the satin hugging her full breasts.
The slight arch of her back drives me wild, her taste dangerous and promising.
I kiss down her neck, my teeth scraping gently at the pulse hammering in her throat, and her body strains closer like she wants to fuse us together right here against the fence.
Her lips quiver against mine, and it takes everything in me not to rip her shirt clean off like. She does like that. My hands slide under the satin, cupping her tits, my thumbs teasing her taut nipples. Her whole body shudders in pleasure, and she grips my cock through my jeans.
“Hallie…” My voice actually cracks. “If you keep doing that, I’m gonna ruin you right here.”
“Oh?” Her whisper is all innocent sin. “Right here, cowboy?”
I groan, dropping my forehead to hers. “You’re killing me.”
“Pretty sure I’m keeping you alive.”
She’s not wrong.
Hallie Emory has saved me in ways she doesn’t even know. And the way she’s looking at me now, hungry, trusting, and all hers, it hits me deep enough to rattle.
I hook my thumb and forefinger on the clasp of her bra, ready to pop it open… then freeze.
Because I want the first time I take her out here to be slow. Intentional. One of those memories she thinks about ten years down the road and still blushes.
I pull back an inch and grin down at her, wicked and promising. “We’re not doing this against a fence, sweetheart. Not yet.”
Her frustrated whimper is the hottest thing I’ve ever heard. When her nails dig in slightly with the tiniest tug, it sets my blood on fire.
“But,” I add, sliding my hand down the curve of her ass, squeezing hard enough to make her gasp, “I am gonna take you inside and make you forget your name, your bakery, and every damn cookie recipe you’ve ever memorized.”
“Colt…” Her hips shift forward, a subtle roll against mine that nearly shreds the last thread of patience I’ve been holding onto.
“Yeah, Cupcake?”
Her fingers curl into my shirt, eyes dark and pleading. “Take me inside.”
trusting, and all hers, it hits me deep enough to rattle.
I hook my thumb and forefinger on the clasp of her bra, ready to pop it open… then freeze.
Because I want the first time I take her out here to be slow. Intentional. One of those memories she thinks about ten years from now and still blushes.
I pull back an inch and grin down at her, wicked and promising. “We’re not doing this against a fence, sweetheart. Not yet.”
Her frustrated whimper is the hottest thing I’ve ever heard. When her nails dig in slightly with the tiniest tug, it sets my blood on fire.
“But,” I add, sliding my hand down the curve of her ass, squeezing hard enough to make her gasp, “I am gonna take you inside and make you forget your name, your bakery, and every damn cookie recipe you’ve ever memorized.”
“Colt…” Her hips shift forward, a subtle roll against mine that nearly shreds the last thread of patience I’ve been holding onto.
“Yeah, Cupcake?”
Her fingers curl into my shirt, eyes dark and pleading. “Take me inside.”
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xoxo,
Aubrey
***
Interested about billionaire, Zane Wyatt? What happens when the cowboy to throw social media darling and single mom Capri Sutton off his ranch?
Find out in Influencing the Rancher, or keep reading for a Chapter 1 preview!
Chapter 1
Capri
“What the blazes do you think you’re doing?”
A truck door slams somewhere behind the ranch’s barbed-wire fence, but I ignore the rugged voice.
It’s the golden hour in the influencer world, the time of day right before sunset when the sun’s rays cast a warm, natural glow that’s ideal for photos.
Ten minutes remain of this perfect Hill Country light before my shot is ruined, and I’m not about to waste them explaining myself to a man who has no say in how I run my business.
“Hey. Princess.” The cowboy raises one hand and snaps twice. “I’m talking to you.”
Did he really just snap his fingers at me? Even my four-year-old knows better.
I whip around to give the jerk a piece of my mind but am momentarily stunned into silence.
The hottest man in the south stands at the ranch’s fencing, a tight white t-shirt showing off his tanned, sculpted muscles.
Ink swirls down both of the stranger’s arms, the intricate designs eclectic and intriguing.
You’ve seen a male before, Capri. Stop staring like he’s a dessert bar.
Unfortunately, my brain does not listen to reason.
The guy’s faded jeans grip his physique in the yummiest of ways, and to top it off, he’s wearing a backward ball cap—my personal kryptonite—with blond wisps of hair peeking out from underneath.
A short beard dusts his square jaw, and I am going to melt into a puddle right now.
Hot Guy’s eyes slowly rake over my body.
Sure, my dark hair falls in waves past my shoulders, and okay, my skin has been called flawless, and fine, my curves have been known to make men forget their own names.
Do I mind the attention? Not usually. Teenage me didn’t know there were members of the opposite sex who appreciate a voluptuous woman, and she’s still inside me somewhere celebrating.
As if clearing out rocks, Hot Guy shakes his head, then taps a worn cowboy boot on the bottom fence rail. “I’m waiting, Princess.”