50. Ellie
ELLIE
“How are we the first ones here?” I asked, glancing around the empty barn, the warm afternoon light slanting in through the high windows, casting golden streaks over the old wooden floor.
“Beats me,” Logan said with a shrug. “But it gives me time to do this.”
Before I could react, he reached out, grabbed me by the waist, and effortlessly lifted me onto a nearby stack of hay bales, my laughter echoing through the open space.
I wrapped my arms around his shoulders, pulling him closer, still smiling. “Do what exactly?” I teased, biting down on my lower lip.
Logan didn’t answer with words. He leaned in, kissing me slow and deep, his lips warm and familiar. His hand slid along my thigh, fingers trailing a line of fire up the inside in a slow, teasing motion that had me gasping into his mouth.
A moan escaped before I could stop it, swallowed by the kiss, and my entire body sparked to life under his touch. His fingers traced up my side, slipping beneath my shirt, brushing over my skin like he had all the time in the world. My breath hitched, every nerve ending tightening in anticipation.
His lips left mine only to press against the sensitive skin of my neck, and I groaned, placing a hand at the back of his head, holding him there. “Now this, I can get behind,” I murmured with a breathless sigh, heart pounding against my ribs.
The air around us thickened, humming with heat and hunger.
Every drag of his fingers sent a shiver through me, every kiss felt like a promise.
I leaned back into the hay, tugging him with me until his weight covered mine, the world narrowing to the feel of his hands, his mouth, his body pressing against mine in all the right places.
Our breathing grew heavier, frantic even, as we grabbed at each other like we’d waited too long. We kind of had.
I half-laughed, half-moaned, my body arching into his. “How fast do you think you could—?”
He groaned, lips against my throat, “I want you. Right here. Right now.”
The heat in his voice, the way his tongue dragged along my skin, I was lit up like a damn Christmas tree. The thrill of getting caught only made it hotter, a dangerous little secret waiting to be exposed.
“Right here?” I asked, breathless.
“Yes,” he growled, fumbling for the button on my shorts, desperation in every movement.
“Whoa there,” came a sharp voice from across the barn.
We both froze.
Logan dropped his forehead to my chest, groaning in defeat as I stared at the rafters, willing the ground to swallow me whole.
“That was something I never needed to see.” Another voice, this one painfully familiar. Boone.
My entire body stiffened. I sat up with a strangled sound, fumbling to fix my shorts while Logan scrambled to cover himself, hand flying to his crotch in a hopeless attempt at modesty.
We were met by a crowd of very amused faces—seven pairs of eyes to be exact.
“Damn…” Theo said with a laugh, baby Frankie perched on her hip. Even the baby seemed to be in on it, her wide eyes blinking at us like, Ha! Caught you!
She cooed and pointed.
I wanted to melt into the hay.
Logan pointed right back, grinning shamelessly. “I’ve spent the last year walking in on all of you doing things I can’t unsee. This? This is payback.”
Everyone erupted into laughter, the barn suddenly filled with teasing and hoots and hollers.
“You’re all lucky it wasn’t worse.”
And somehow, through the embarrassment and the heat still pulsing under my skin, I found myself laughing too, because this was us. A mess. A family. And mine, with Logan smack in the center of it all.
“I have something to say before you two keep going and end up pregnant too,” Penny said with a mischievous grin.
The laughter that had been echoing through the barn died instantly.
“What?” Aspen turned around so fast it was like someone had flipped a switch. Her eyes locked on Penny, wide and disbelieving.
“Pregnant?” Theo echoed, brows lifting.
“You?” I added, my voice soft, stunned.
Penny’s smile only grew. She bit down on her bottom lip and nodded—slowly, shyly, radiantly.
All of us looked to Mac, who stood just behind her. He looked frozen for a beat, like he was still wrapping his head around being at the center of the moment. Then, his expression shifted, and a slow smile broke across his face. He stepped forward and kissed her cheek, his eyes never leaving hers.
“I’m gonna be a dad!” he said, voice hoarse with disbelief and pride, then threw one hand into the air like he’d just scored the winning touchdown.
The barn exploded with cheers and hollers.
I rushed Penny, wrapping my arms around her from every direction.
I felt the weight of other bodies pressing against me, sandwiching me against Penny as high-pitched squeals of excitement from Aspen and Theo filled my ears.
In the break, I heard the guys cheering and when we broke, they had Mac wrapped in a celebratory hug.
“A freaking baby!” Aspen yelled, throwing her arms up like she physically couldn’t contain her excitement. “I get to be an aunt twice?”
“Oh my God, I have so many baby things you can have,” Theo said, eyes wide. “So many. I’m already obsessed!”
It hit me then—this is what growing up looked like.
Babies. Relationships. Roots. I had only truly become part of this group a few months ago, but standing here now, surrounded by laughter and love, it felt like I had known them forever.
Like we were all woven into the same story, just different pages turning at the same time.
Eventually, we all regathered, naturally falling into a circle like we always did when things felt big. “So… is this why we’re all here?” I asked, looking between them. “To find out you two are expecting?”
“Well, we were the ones who invited everyone,” Boone said, wrapping an arm around Aspen’s waist. She smiled up at him, cheeks still flushed from all the excitement.
My eyes narrowed suspiciously. I pointed a finger at them. “You too?”
Aspen’s hands flew up like I’d just accused her of a crime. “No! No, no. Not pregnant. We just missed everyone, and we thought the ranch would be better than the bar for catching up,” she said, tossing a look at Mac. “Though I guess this turned out to be the perfect night for surprises.”
Mac held up his hands in mock innocence. “Hey, no complaints. I’m just glad to have the night off.”
“But,” Aspen continued, exchanging a quick look with Boone, “we do have some news. Not as exciting as Penny and Mac’s… but still big.”
Boone smiled and nodded. “We’re moving in together.”
“We’re building a house,” Aspen added, beaming now. “On the ranch.”
Another round of shouts and claps followed. More hugs. More disbelief. The kind of joy that ripples through people like a stone dropped in still water.
“I’m going to need all the decorating advice,” Aspen said, turning to us girls. “This place is going to be dreamy. Rustic meets modern meets Pinterest board of my dreams.”
And then, Theo cleared her throat with that signature glint in her eye.
“Well,” she said, lifting her chin, “since we’re all sharing…”
The barn quieted again, just slightly, a pause of anticipation hanging in the air.
“I accepted that gig in Montana,” she announced. “The one I mentioned a few months ago.”
Penny gasped. “That gig?”
I remembered it too, the way she’d talked about it in passing, barely containing her excitement even then. It was an opportunity that had lit her up from the inside out.
Theo nodded, pride and nerves flickering across her face. “I’ll be gone a couple of months. It’s big, and it’s scary, but it’s right.”
Even Frankie cheered with excitement, which made everyone laugh.
“That means two months of you and me, bug,” he said with a smile directed right at Frankie.
“Whatever you need, I’m here,” I offered.
“Me too,” Logan chimed in.
“I’ll need the practice,” Penny said.
“As long as you’re okay with her coming to the bar, I’m down too. I grew up there and I turned out all right,” Mac added.
My heart swelled, torn between the thrill of watching my friends’ lives bloom and the ache that came with change. We hadn’t even made it past the barn doors tonight before life had started shifting beneath our feet. But somehow, in the warmth of this place, with these people, it all felt right.
We were growing up and it was messy, beautiful, unpredictable. And we were doing it together.
Reflection is a strange, beautiful thing.
It has a way of casting light on the past—on all the twists, missteps, and heartbreaks—and revealing the purpose in the pain.
In the thick of it, when you’re gasping for air and the road ahead feels endless, it’s easy to believe you’ll never make it out.
That you’ll never feel joy again. Never find peace.
But this was my reminder:
The light always returns.
It may flicker. It may be faint. But it will shine through.
And if there is ever a place to remember that, it could be found in Faircloud, Texas.
Because they’ll always leave the porch light on.