CHAPTER SEVEN
Riley
The next two weeks passed in a blur of cooking lessons, stolen kisses, and the best sex of my entire life.
Dalton was true to his word—he spent every spare moment showing me why I should stay. Not with words, but with actions.
He taught me how to make his grandmother’s sugar cookies, standing behind me at the counter with his hands over mine, guiding me through the dough. We decorated them together one night, and I learned that the big, gruff cowboy had surprisingly delicate piping skills. Of course, I had none.
He took me out to see the ranch at sunset, showing me his favorite spots—the ridge where you could see three mountain ranges, the meadow where wildflowers bloomed in summer, the creek that ran year-round and never froze completely even in the dead of winter.
He told me stories about his grandparents, about learning to ride before he could walk, about the legacy they’d left him and the responsibility he felt to honor it.
And every night, he made love to me like I was something precious. Something worth keeping.
The ranch hands had long since stopped pretending they didn’t know what was going on between us. Jake made endless jokes about kitchen inspections, Tyler turned bright red every time he walked in on us kissing, and Daniel just smiled knowingly and told Dalton he’d never seen him this happy.
I was falling in love with this place. With these people. With the rhythm of ranch life and the satisfaction of feeding hardworking men and watching them enjoy what I’d made.
But most of all, I was falling in love with Dalton.
It terrified me.
Christmas Eve arrived with fresh snow and a house that smelled like pine and cinnamon.
I’d spent all day preparing a special dinner—roast beef, mashed potatoes, green beans, and biscuits.
I’d tried to make yeast rolls. Surprisingly, I hadn’t felt like I’d failed.
I knew I could try again. And again. I had, however, discovered I was better at baking than cooking regular food.
I made three different kinds of pie for dessert.
The mood was festive. Everyone had helped decorate the main house, stringing more lights and hanging wreaths. The ranch didn’t get many visitors, but it made me happy to see it decorated for the holiday. I think it made Dalton happy too.
Dinner was loud and cheerful, full of laughter and stories and the kind of easy camaraderie I’d never experienced before. These men—these rough, hardworking cowboys—had become something like family to me.
After dinner, they exchanged gifts. Small things mostly—new work gloves, a pocketknife, a book someone had mentioned wanting. When they handed me a wrapped package, I nearly cried.
“You didn’t have to get me anything,” I protested.
“Open it,” Jake urged.
Inside was a cookbook—but not just any cookbook. It was handwritten, pages filled with Mae’s recipes in her distinctive scrawl, along with notes in the margins in different handwriting that I recognized as contributions from each of the ranch hands.
“Mae sent the recipes,” Daniel explained. “We added our favorites, and some tips we’ve picked up over the years.” He paused, then looked me square in the eyes. “For when you go out with us this spring during round-up.”
“In case you decide to stick around,” Tyler added, then blushed. “I mean, if you want to. No pressure.”
I hugged the book to my chest, blinking back tears. “Thank you. All of you. This is... this is the best gift I’ve ever gotten.”
After the boys headed to the bunkhouse, Dalton and I cleaned up the kitchen together in comfortable silence. But I could feel the tension building, the awareness crackling between us.
“I have something for you too,” he said, once the last dish was put away.
“Dalton, you didn’t have to—”
“I wanted to.” He pulled a small wrapped box from his pocket. “It’s not much, but...”
My hands shook slightly as I unwrapped it. Inside was a delicate silver necklace with a pendant—a tiny mountain range with a star above it.
“It’s the view from the ridge,” he explained. “The one I took you to see. I had it custom made in town.” He took the necklace from the box, moving behind me to fasten it around my neck. “Figured even if you... even if you decide not to stay, you’d have something to remember this place by.”
I touched the pendant, feeling the cool metal against my skin, and my vision blurred with tears.
“I didn’t get you anything,” I whispered.
“You’ve given me plenty.” He turned me to face him, cupping my jaw. “You’ve given me hope, Riley. After two years of thinking I’d never feel this way again, you walked into my kitchen and turned my whole world upside down.”
“Dalton—”
He kissed me and I tasted the apple from the pie he’d eaten and something that was purely him.
“Come to bed,” he murmured against my mouth. “Let me show you how I feel about you.”
I let him lead me upstairs, my heart pounding with anticipation and something else. Something bigger and more terrifying that I wasn’t quite ready to name.
His bedroom was lit only by the moonlight streaming through the windows and the glow from the Christmas tree he’d insisted we put up.
Dalton undressed me slowly, reverently, like he had all the time in the world. Each piece of clothing that came off was punctuated with kisses. By the time I was naked, I was trembling with need.
“You’re so beautiful,” he said, his voice deep with emotion. “Every fucking inch of you.”
“Dalton, please—”
“Patience, baby.” He guided me to the bed, laying me down on the soft covers. “Tonight, I’m taking my time.”
And he did.
He started at my feet, kissing and touching and worshipping every part of me. My ankles, my calves, the backs of my knees. Up my thighs, taking detours to press kisses to places I didn’t even know could be sensitive.
By the time his mouth found my pussy, I was already so close to coming I could barely breathe.
“Please,” I begged. “I need you. I need you inside me.”
“Not yet.” His tongue circled my clit lazily, maddeningly. “I want to taste you first. I want to feel you come on my tongue just like the first time.”
He licked into me slowly, thoroughly, like he was savoring every drop. One hand held my hip down when I tried to buck up, the other slid up to pinch my nipple, and the dual sensations sent me spiraling over the edge.
I came with a cry, my hands fisting in his hair, holding him against me as the pleasure seemed to consume me. He grinned down at me as he stood up beside the bed. “Did you like that, Riley? My mouth on your pussy?”
He stripped off his own clothes with quick, efficient movements. Before he could lay back down with me, I sat up on the edge of the bed. Reaching between us, I wrapped my hand around his cock. He was rock hard and groaned at my touch.
“Riley—fuck—” He watched as I touched him, spreading the precum across his tip with my thumb. I stroked him, up and down, experimenting with the speed and tightness. But I wanted more.
“I want to taste you too,” I said, surprising myself with my boldness.
His eyes went dark. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
He moved to lie on his back, one arm behind his head, watching me with hooded eyes as I positioned myself between his thighs.
I’d never done this with a man before. I’d always viewed it as more intimate than the act itself. But looking at Dalton’s cock, thick and hard and weeping for me, I found myself actually wanting to.
I licked up the underside, base to tip, and he hissed out a breath.
“Fuck, baby. That’s good.”
Encouraged, I took the head into my mouth, swirling my tongue around it. He tasted salty and male, and the sounds he was making went straight to my core.
I took him deeper, using my hand on what I couldn’t fit in my mouth, and found a rhythm that had him cursing and fisting his hands at his sides.
“Riley—damn it—your mouth—”
I loved this. I loved the power of having him at my mercy, loved the way his hips were starting to thrust up despite his obvious attempts to stay still, loved the way he was looking at me like I was a goddess.
“Baby, you need to stop,” he groaned. “I’m too close—”
I doubled my efforts instead, taking him as deep as I could, and his control snapped.
“Fuck—Riley—I’m going to—”
He came with a roar, his whole body going rigid, and I swallowed everything he gave me.
When I finally released him, he was staring at me with something like awe.
“Come here,” he demanded.
I crawled up his body, and he kissed me deeply, tasting himself on my tongue.
“Give me five minutes,” he muttered against my mouth, pulling me close. “Then I’m going to fuck you so hard you’ll feel me for days.”
“Promise?” I teased, even though my whole body was humming with need.
“Sweetheart, that’s a guarantee.”
It didn’t even take five minutes. His hands began roaming my body, his mouth putting marks on my neck, and I could feel him hardening again against my thigh.
“You’re an eager cowboy, aren’t you?” I gasped as he rolled us over, pinning me beneath him.
“For you? Always.” He reached over to grab a condom, rolling it on quickly. Before I could say anything, he was turning me over. “On your hands and knees, baby.”
I gasped at the new position, trembling at the raw desire in his touch and voice. But, heaven help me, I wanted this. I wanted to be taken hard and fast.
He placed his hands on my butt cheeks and spread them slightly. I heard him groan and felt a blush rise at what he was seeing. I could feel the swollen flesh between my thighs and knew I was wet for him. Touching him had aroused me as much as it had him.
I started as he rubbed the head of his cock through my wetness. Then without warning, he was pushing inside me, hard and fast, making me take every inch. Once fully inside me, he let go of my hips and fell over top of me, catching himself on his hands. “Feel that, baby? Feel me inside you?”
He gathered my hair in one hand, pulling my head back. I nodded. “Yes. You feel so good, Dalton.”
He gave a short, slow thrust inside me. “You’re mine, Riley, don’t ever forget that.” Then he was kissing me and fucking me. And all I could do was take it. Take him.
I’d never wanted something more in my life.
Him, I wanted him.
In and out he went. Hard, rough strokes that had me wanting to come in an instant. But just as the pleasure built, he’d stop, holding himself still inside me. “Not yet. Not until you’re begging me for it.”
Then he’d give a sharp tug on my hair and started all over again.
It didn’t take me long to beg. I arched back into every thrust, wanting, needing him deeper. “Please, Dalton. Let me come.”
Those were the magic words. He straightened, his legs between mine, spreading me wider. His fingers dug into my hips as he started fucking me again. I bowed my head letting him take me.
Then, I was screaming his name, uncaring if anyone heard me.
He followed seconds later, pumping his essence inside me. I don’t know how long we stayed like that.
I collapsed onto the bed, his warm body covering me. Finally, he moved, turning us both on our sides, facing each other.
“Look at me,” he commanded softly.
I met his eyes, and what I saw there stole my breath. It wasn’t just desire or lust. It was something deeper. One hand cupped my face, his thumb brushing across my cheekbone, and I’d never felt so connected to another person in my entire life.
What we’d shared hadn’t just been sex. We’d made love in every sense of the word.
“I love you.” My body gave a slight jolt at the suddenness of Dalton’s words. “I fucking love you, Riley. Stay with me. Please, baby, stay with me.”
“I—” I honestly didn’t know what to say. I knew I wanted to say the words to him, had been holding back for days every time he touched me.
“You don’t have to say it back,” he continued, smoothing the hair back from my face. He was always doing that. Finding some small way to touch me. “I just needed you to know. I needed you to understand what this means to me. What you mean to me.”
“I love you too,” I finally blurted out, the words surprising us both. “God, Dalton, I love you too. I’m so scared, but I love you too.”
He made a sound—half groan, half something else—and kissed me fiercely.
“So stay.” He tilted my face up, making me look at him. “Not as a cook. As my wife, Riley. I want to marry you.”
“What?”
“I want to marry you, Riley.”
That made me stop and think for a second. Staying on the ranch as a helper to my aunt, getting to know him better, was one thing. This, this was something altogether different.
“Dalton, I don’t know what to say.”
“Just tell me what you’re feeling, Riley.” He gave an encouraging smile. “I’m probably thinking the same thing.”
I had to laugh at that. “That you’re terrified.”
“Yeah, I am. Maybe not for the same reasons, but that feeling is there.”
I drew in a deep breath. “Okay. Here it is. For the first time in thirteen years, I want to stay somewhere. I want to belong. Here with you. But… I know I said it before, but what if I fail at this like I’ve failed at everything else? What if I can’t be what you need? What if—”
He cut me off with a kiss. “I’m completely, stupidly, terrifyingly in love with you. You’re already everything I need, Riley. You just have to believe it.”
“But what if—”
“No more what-ifs. We’ll figure it out as we go. Together.” He kissed me again, soft and sweet. “I’m not asking you to be perfect. I’m asking you to be here. With me.”
I searched his face, looking for doubt or hesitation or any sign that he didn’t mean what he was saying. But all I saw was love and certainty and hope.
“Mae said she’d be back tomorrow,” I said quietly.
“I know.”
“She said I could leave then if I wanted to.”
“I know that too.” His jaw clenched, but he kept his voice steady. “What do you want, Riley?”
What did I want?
I wanted to wake up in his arms every morning. I wanted to cook breakfast for the ranch hands and watch them enjoy it. I wanted to learn Mae’s recipes and add my own to the collection. I wanted to see the wildflowers bloom in spring and watch the leaves change in fall.
I wanted to build a life here. A real life, with roots and belonging and love.
I wanted to stop running.
“I want to stay,” I whispered.
His whole body went still. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.” I smiled through my tears. “Just like cooking, I have no idea what I’m doing, but I want to stay. I want to see what happens when I stop leaving first.”
He kissed me then—hard and desperate and full of promise. “You won’t regret this.”
“I know.”
“I’m going to spend every day making sure of it.”
“I know that too.”
He rolled us over so I was on top, and I could feel him hardening again beneath me.
“Again?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.
“We’re celebrating.” He guided me down on top of his cock.
“Celebrating what?” I lifted up and then sank back down, taking all of him inside me.
“You. Me. Us. The start of forever.”
“The start of forever.” I leaned down and kissed him, moving to his guided hands on my hips.