Chapter 19
Kip woke up little by little, climbing out of the best dream of her life.
The first thing she noticed was the delicious ache between her thighs…
so it wasn’t a dream. Trace had really done all those things to her.
The second thing she noticed was the empty spot beside her where Trace should have been.
For one heart-stopping second, the old panic gripped her throat.
Gone. He’s gone! I knew this would happen!
Then she remembered his sweet goodbye. He’d kissed her forehead at dawn before whispering he had to check the ranch before the next storm rolled in. The last thing she remembered was him telling her to go back to sleep and holding her until she did. He’d promised he’d be at breakfast.
She took a deep breath, hugged Vixie hard, and reached for her Promise Pebble. Breathing the way her Daddy had shown her—slow, deep breath in, slow, steady breath out—she let the truth settle into her bones. One truth for each swipe of her thumb across her pebble.
Swipe. She’d married Trace Daniels.
Swipe. She’d worn his mother’s lace dress that had made her feel beautiful, standing under a Christmas tree dripping with four generations of promises.
Swipe. They’d hung their ornament right in the middle of the tree, the painted crystal disc that caught the light every time the fire popped.
Swipe. The judge said Trace could kiss his bride. Swipe. The way Trace’s mouth had taken hers as if he’d been starving for the right to do it in front of God and everybody. Swipe. The gentleness he’d handled her with last night and the anything but gentle way he’d claimed her earlier that morning.
The room had still been dark then, but now the morning light streamed through the windows and a fire crackled in the hearth. Kip pushed the quilts down and padded barefoot, well, bare-everything, across the wide-plank floor, cool beneath her feet.
It was real. She was Mrs. Trace Daniels. Ms. Kip Daniels. The name had a nice ring to it. The most beautiful ring of all time.
Speaking of rings, her left hand looked empty without one, but that was fine.
He had promised her during their dance the night before that he would give her a ring when he found one worthy of her.
What was a girl supposed to say to that?
She hadn’t said anything, instead she kissed him right on the dance floor.
Turning on the shower, she sighed at how her neck still tingled from his beard scrapes, and when she rolled her shoulders, she felt the gentle pull of the love bite just above her collarbone. She pressed two fingers to it and smiled, feeling small and stupidly happy.
It was hard to believe she was married to the man who, six months ago, looked at her across a crowded bar and decided then she was his Little girl.
The man who spanked her to tears the first time she tried to run.
Who held her through nightmares and panic attacks and every ugly piece of her past. Who stood in front of family and friends yesterday and promised to be hers forever in that low, steady voice that made her knees weak.
And he truly meant it. She knew it as surely as she knew the sun would set behind the Tetons every evening.
Trace Daniels didn’t say things he didn’t mean.
Unwilling to be away from him for any longer than she already had, she threw on some clothes, including one of Trace’s flannel shirts.
The sleeves hung past her fingertips, and it smelled like him. She might wear one every day.
Downstairs, Boone’s booming laugh caught her attention before she reached the kitchen.
Ruby clearly didn’t share whatever had sparked his amusement.
Her order to watch the skillet or forfeit the privilege of eating any Wilder Rolls silenced the laughter, as it should.
No one wanted to miss out on the sweet rolls from Bread & Batter, Junie’s bakery.
She came up with the most incredible treats Kip had ever tasted—well, except for Ruby’s.
Kip entered the room just in time to hear Junie’s squeal when Tanner snatched a piece of bacon right out of her hand.
The house was alive, bursting at the seams with family.
None of them were hers by blood, but every single one of them had claimed her as a true sister yesterday with hugs, tears, and toasts that went on until Trace carried her upstairs.
A loose floorboard creaked under her weight, alerting everyone before she was ready. Suddenly, there were arms everywhere. Kenzie hit her first, cocoa on her breath and glitter in her hair. “There’s our bride! You’re glowing, woman. Also, you’re late. We’ve already started planning.”
“For what?” Kip asked. Had she missed a memo or something?
“For the wedding party, of course. Everyone will be here soon!” Kenzie danced away, calling over her shoulder, “It’s gonna be great!”
Wedding party? Wait, what?
Joy skipped over next, her hair wild and cheeks flushed from the cold. “We might have invited a few people out to the ranch for the day, to celebrate you and Trace getting married. The glitter bombs are loaded. We’re calling it Operation Sparkle Chaos.”
Kip looked down at her faded jeans and bulky sweater beneath Trace’s flannel shirt. She hadn’t dressed for a party, but since she was dressed like everyone else, she decided not to worry about it.
Tildi didn’t come over for a hug. She was overseeing her Daddy as he flipped bacon, commanding him like a general at war.
From the look on Boone’s face, that wasn’t going to end well for her friend.
Still, her friend managed to slide a mug of coffee across the island just as Kip was within reach.
“Sit before these hooligans wear you out. You’re still on honeymoon time. ”
Ruby gently touched Kip’s wrist and offered her a warm smile.
Kip’s eyes stung. She grabbed the coffee with both hands and let the warmth soak in. This was what family felt like. Loud and messy, and full of people who would burn the world down before they let anyone hurt her again.
Chance swept in and lifted her clean off the floor in a bear hug. “Mornin’, Mrs. Daniels.” He spun her once, boots dangling. “You’re officially stuck with us. No refunds, no exchanges.”
Stuck. That word should have scraped old wounds raw. Instead, it wrapped around her heart and squeezed. Because “stuck” with the Daniels clan meant Sunday dinners and someone always having your back and Trace’s ring, when he finally picked it out, on her finger for the rest of her life.
Trace appeared behind Chance, eyes stormy and narrowed. “Put my wife down before I put you down, Chance, brother or not.”
“In your dreams, little brother,” Chance said with a laugh.
Chance set her back on her feet, but Trace was already there. His large hands slid around her waist as he tugged her back against his chest. His beard scraped her temple when he growled, low enough only she could hear. “Mine.”
The single word lit her up from the inside out. She leaned into him, letting his heat chase away the last shadows of doubt. “All yours, Daddy,” she whispered, and relished the tightening of his arms.
After breakfast, the morning blurred into chaos and love in equal measure.
Trucks kept rolling in, tires crunching over packed snow.
Hank arrived with Chey and her Little one bundled like a rainbow gumdrop.
Sam, Mitch, and Susan, who she later found out was there as Mitch’s date, drove up with coolers of beer and a pot of green-chili stew that made grown men cry, if the stories were true.
When Mitch looked back and saw Susan struggling with the giant pot she had lifted from the truck, he called Dutch over to help Sam with the cooler and then went back to Susan.
True to Wilder’s style, words were exchanged, mostly from Mitch.
He took the pot, put it back in the truck, swatted Susan’s bottom, and then kissed her silly.
God, she loved her town.
Next, Jack Clark pulled up in his big dually Ford F-450, Silas Holt riding shotgun, looking pale and twitchy and not meeting anyone’s eyes.
Being used to solitary ranch life, he probably didn’t enjoy big parties.
Levi Callahan (tall, quiet, hat in hand) climbed out and immediately started checking exits, like a man who’d learned the hard way that trouble never announced itself.
Thirty minutes later, a black Suburban with Washington State plates slid to a stop beside the barn.
Kip had never even been to the state of Washington.
Who in the world? Fear gripped her when it occurred to her it might be someone sent by Rios, but why would he send someone all the way from Washington?
“You have got to be kidding me!” Kenzie stood, frozen mid-step, holding a tray of cocoa, now tilting dangerously. The marshmallows jiggled in the mugs as if they knew what was coming.
A man Kip had never seen before unfolded from the back seat, all six-four lean, lethal inch of him.
Kip might not recognize him, but he radiated danger from every pore.
Wearing a charcoal cashmere coat that didn’t hide the width of his shoulders or the way the wool strained when he moved, he didn’t quite blend in with the other guests.
His skin was the color of warm bronze, and his sharp Sicilian cheekbones accentuated eyes so dark they appeared black. The man’s hair was the deep, blue-black of a raven’s wing and was just long enough to curl against his collar.
He shut the door with two fingers, the soft thunk somehow louder than the party noise, and every head in the yard turned. Even the wind seemed to pause. Then his gaze cut straight across the snow and locked on Kenzie, as if the rest of them no longer existed.
Kip had run from men like Sev long enough to see he wasn’t just dangerous.
He was the kind of dangerous that made other dangerous men step aside and reconsider their life choices.
Apparently, Kenzie didn’t see him the same way.
Forcing the tray of cocoa into Kip’s arms, she stood beside her, fists on her hips.
Kip was worried until she noticed Boone heading that way.
“Ho-ly shit,” Joy whispered. “Is that Seven Midnight, Kenz? If it is, I see what you meant when you said the man eats danger for breakfast and has seconds.”
Boone clapped Sev on the back hard enough to stagger a lesser man. As they walked toward them, Boone said, “Thought Vancouver was too civilized for Wyoming winters.”
Sev didn’t take his eyes off Kenzie as he stepped in front of her. “Some things are worth freezing my balls off for.”
Kenzie lifted her chin, fire in her eyes. “Eyes are up here, Midnight.”
Sev’s smile was slow, lethal, and aimed straight at her heart. “Yes, ma’am.”
Kip’s stomach flipped. She recognized that look—she saw it every time Trace looked at her, as if she were a filet mignon and he was a starving.
With a growl, Kenzie turned on her heel and stalked into the lodge.
More people arrived over the next hour, and soon the party became pure Daniels chaos. There were wakeboard races across the snow, and sleigh rides for the Littles and children, complete with horses snorting clouds of steam.
Later, the men held cowboy chariot races with men riding sleds behind horses, shouting trash talk that would make a sailor blush.
When Trace noticed her shivering, he peeled off his coat and draped it over her shoulders, as if it was the most natural thing in the world.
Then he kissed her hard enough to make her toes curl inside her boots.
With a grin, he winked at her. “Stay right here, baby girl. I have a title to defend.”
She clutched the shearling around her, breathing him in. Her heart tried to climb out of her ribs. It was hard to believe he was hers now. Legally. Forever. The thought made her dizzy in the best way.
Flashing her a wicked grin that did devastating things to her panties, he swung up onto Bastion and tipped two fingers to the brim of his hat. He knew exactly how good he looked, just as he knew she’d be watching his every move and loving it.
When the starting shot cracked, eight horses lunged forward. The snow exploded under thundering hooves. Trace took the lead and never looked back. When he slid to a stop in front of her, victorious and breathless, he yanked her off the ground and kissed the cold right off her lips.
“Still the king, baby,” he said, the chill in the air adding a rasp to his deep voice.
She laughed into his coat, her fingers curled over his heart. She gave his shirt a gentle shake. “Show-off.” But inside, she was glowing because he had done that for her. He wanted her to know she was the center of his universe.
Later, when the sun dipped behind the mountains and everyone had left, the Littles sugar-crashed on every couch. The Daddies gathered around them in the living room like an unwitting glitter-bomb tribunal, cracking open their oversized ornaments one at a time.
Tanner reacted first. Pink glitter exploded into a cloud that coated his beard and eyelashes. He stood frozen, sparkling like a very pissed-off disco ball. Junie giggled and, energy suddenly restored, bolted for the back door.
Grinning, Tanner ran after her. “You are in big trouble, Junebug! Funishment is in store when I get my hands on you!”
Boone looked at his brothers and smirked. “Yeah, best friends my ass. Welp, best get on with this.”
Chance’s ornament was green. Boone’s was gold. With sighs of resignation, they accepted their fate. Cracking their ornaments, with the same results, they each swept up their Littles and headed to their rooms. That left only Trace and Sev.
Sev watched as Kenzie handed him a midnight-blue sphere with innocent eyes and a smirk that said she knew exactly what she was starting. “Don’t get any ideas. I just didn’t want you to feel left out.”
Without hesitation, he cracked the orb open, and blue glitter showered over his black coat like an exploding galaxy.
Kenzie bit her lip and shrugged. “Oops.”
Sev’s smile was slow, lethal. “Little girl, you just bought yourself a very interesting evening.”
Kenzie’s breath hitched, cheeks flushing bright red, but she refused to look away.
Kip leaned into Trace, whispering, “Daddy, I think you should open yours in our room.”
Trace smiled. “Saving me the trouble of chasing you, huh?”
She nodded. “I probably wouldn’t run anyway.”
Fire lit his eyes, and with his red ornament in one hand, he tossed her over his shoulder and carried her up to their room.