Chapter 51
Baby, you’re a firework
Finn
The afternoon heat of July Fourth had taken its toll by the time we made it back to our room at the lodge. Hours of celebration—kids running wild with sparklers, the smell of barbecue smoke, laughter carrying across the ranch grounds—had left us both ready for a break before the evening kicked in.
“I need at least thirty minutes where nobody’s asking me questions,” Alex toed off her sandals the second the door closed behind us. She’d been fielding extended-family curiosity all day, smiling through it—but I’d caught the way her shoulders had started creeping up around her ears.
“Take your time,” I pulled my sneakers off. “Evening celebration doesn’t start until seven anyway.”
She disappeared into the bathroom while I stretched out on top of the covers, letting the air conditioning work its magic.
The room was quiet after the chaos outside—just the hum of the bathroom fan and distant noise of the celebration continuing without us.
It gave me a minute to think about tonight—about what came after the dancing and the fireworks.
About the fact that we were ready for what came after. All of it.
My phone buzzed. Dom had sent a photo of him and Enzo with a group of kids who’d apparently challenged them to a water balloon fight.
Dom: getting destroyed. send help
Me: You’re on your own, brother
That earned me a middle finger emoji. Predictable as always.
Alex emerged fifteen minutes later in a t-shirt and her underwear, hair pulled back, looking more comfortable. She climbed over the bed and nestled down against my side, guiding my arm around her shoulders.
“Mm, you smell good.”
“I smell like sweat,” I huffed, my fingers already brushing up and down her arm.
“I like it,” she wiggled against me more and then sighed in contentment. “Tell me about tonight. A dinner and dance seems like an odd way to end July Fourth before fireworks.”
“It’s tradition,” I lifted a shoulder. “My great-grandparents started the celebration part. All the neighbors came for a big barbeque and fireworks. When Móraí was about fourteen, they added a dance and it just stuck. Became a North Star tradition. Móraí met my granddad at one when she was nineteen. I think that’s the real reason we still have them. ”
“Romantic.” Her voice was wistful as she wrapped her arm around my middle, draping one leg over mine.
“Romantic as fuck,” I agreed, kissing the top of her head. I held Alex until I was sure she’d fallen asleep, drifting in and out of consciousness myself before finally getting up to get ready for the evening.
I showered quick, trimmed my beard, and pulled my hair back completely to save myself from the heat, deciding that was about as good as it was getting. When I came out, Alex was at the small desk by the window, scrolling through something on her phone while she chewed on the tip of her thumb.
“Please tell me you’re not working.”
“Just answering a couple of texts,” she glanced up, smiled. “No work today. Promise.”
“Good,” I kissed her lightly.
Golden light slanted through the windows, sounds of the celebration a comfortable backdrop. I pulled on my tan jeans and gingham plaid western shirt, snapping the buttons up to the last two.
“I’m gonna step outside for a bit,” I nodded toward the balcony after pulling on my boots. “Get some air and give you a little space to do your thing.”
“Okay. I’ll get ready in a minute.” She was already turning back to her phone, typing away with an expression that meant she was orchestrating something.
I slid the glass door open and stepped out onto the small balcony.
The view stretched across the grounds toward the event barn, string lights already glowing even though the sun hadn’t fully set.
The band was setting up on the temporary stage, testing microphones, and adjusting equipment.
Restaurant staff were setting up drink and refreshment stations.
A few early arrivals were claiming spots near the dance floor.
I rested my forearms on the railing and watched the kids still running around with what looked like their tenth wind of the day while parents visited or watched. The air smelled like pine and barbecue and summer evening in Wyoming. I inhaled deeply, letting it all settle over me.
The door slid open behind me.
“Ready?” Alex’s voice was soft.
I turned around and felt my brain short out.
The dress moved around her like liquid fire—russet orange catching the afternoon light and making her skin look as if it had been kissed by the Wyoming sun for years instead of weeks.
Off-shoulder sleeves showcased her decolletage and fabric smoothed effortlessly over her curves.
She’d tied her hair back, loose pieces framing her face—strappy sandals made her legs look endless under all that flowing fabric.
“You...” I cleared my throat, tried again. “That dress.”
A smile tugged at the corner of her mouth as she twirled for me—the skirt billowing around her and making my pants feel a bit tighter.
“You like it?”
“Darlin’.” The word came out rougher than I meant it to. I crossed the balcony in two steps, hands finding her waist, feeling the soft fabric under my palms and the warmth of her underneath. Fuck, I’d be thinking about peeling this dress off her all evening.
“We could stay in,” I kissed her. “Order room service. Nobody would miss us.”
She laughed, light and happy, her hands coming up to rest against my chest. “Nice try, flyboy.”
“Can’t blame a man for tryin’,” I flashed a grin. I traced my thumb along the edge of the dress where it sat against her skin, that off-shoulder cut showing freckles and just a hint of her tattoo.
“We’re going,” she nodded definitively. “I want to dance with you.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah,” she tilted her head up, blue eyes catching mine. “Besides, I have something planned for later, and that definitely requires us leaving this room.”
That got my attention. “What kind of something?”
“You’ll see,” she smiled mysteriously. “But we have to make it through the celebration first.”
I drew her closer, felt her settle against me. “You’re trouble.”
“You like it.”
“I really do,” I pressed a kiss to her temple, breathed in her distinct flavor of green tea, mint, and something deeper and warm. “Alright, Alexandra. Let’s go show you off. But be warned, I’m not lettin’ you out of arm’s reach all night in that dress.”
“I’m counting on it,” she stepped back and took my hand. “Come on, cowboy. We’ve got a party to get to.”
Anticipation buzzed under my skin as we crossed the grounds toward the evening celebration already underway—aware of her arm around mine, the way she moved in that dress, the fact that she’d planned something for later and wasn’t telling me what.
The band had been playing for a while by the time we made it to the dance floor—upbeat stuff mostly, fiddle-heavy country that had families spinning their kids around and couples doing the two-step. The lights overhead cast everything in gold.
Alex had been pulled into about fifteen different conversations on our way across the lawn—usually by more family or locals wanting to know more about the woman who’d brought me back home.
She handled it all with that quick smile of hers, but I kept my hand at her back.
Partly because I’d promised not to let her out of arm’s reach in that dress—mostly because I wanted everyone to know she was with me.
“Always on My Mind” started up as we reached the edge of the dance floor, couples pairing off.
I offered my hand. “Dance with me?”
“Thought you’d never ask,” she took it and let me lead her to the floor.
She placed her right hand in my left as I moved my other hand to her lower back—appropriate distance for public displays. We swayed to the rhythm easy enough, her following my lead without hesitation.
Other couples moved around us—Elowyn and Luke, some of the guests from the lodge, Dom and Enzo looking disgustingly happy together a few yards away.
Perfect.
Whatever time later, we were still dancing.
The crowd on the floor had grown thicker as the band settled exclusively into slower songs, while larger groups spread across the grounds around firepits—kids still skipping through the crowds with sparklers, laughing in the distance.
But here, under the string lights where other couples were simply enjoying being together, everything was soft and comfortable.
“Sunday Kind of Love” drifted through the evening air.
Alex’s head was tucked against my shoulder, our hands pressed between us against my chest. My right hand stayed firm at her lower back, holding her close enough that there wasn’t any space left between us.
Her other hand had slipped around my waist at some point.
We weren’t so much dancing as just being together.
I felt her sigh and relax completely into me.
“You good?” I spoke low, just for her.
“Mm-hmm,” she didn’t lift her head. “Don’t wanna move.”
I kissed the top of her head and rested my cheek against her temple. “Then we don’t have to.” I stroked my thumb along her lower back and she hummed contentedly.
Somewhere in the distance, someone laughed. The celebration kept going on around us, and that was fine. We had our own thing happening.
She shifted slightly, lifting her head enough to look at me. Her eyes were dark in the glow, but there was heat in her expression.
“I have something to show you,” she whispered.
Curiosity sparked anew. “Yeah?”
She threaded her fingers through mine. “Come with me.”
Low lights marked a path toward the tree line, away from the main festivities. We walked in comfortable silence. Behind us, someone let out a whoop as the first firework whistled into the sky.
The boom echoed across the ranch a second later. Then another. Colors exploding overhead—red and gold and brilliant white against the darkening blue, Alex’s flame-orange dress catching the glow.
She glanced back and smiled but kept walking.