8. - – Jules
CHAPTER EIGHT
-
JULES
I wanted to skip the festival altogether, but there was no getting out of the yearly event.
Ever since Dean had stood up to my aunties, they’d barely spoken to me.
They thought their emotional warfare bothered me.
It didn’t. I reveled in the silence. The live country music resounded through the valley where the ranch was located.
It was loud enough to drown out the rushing current of the Inverness River.
I wove through the crowd with a whiskey sour in hand, grateful for the setting sun.
It cooled the day enough that I’d changed into a cropped lightweight peasant top and faux-leather pants.
The outfit was just a bit deeper blue than my eyes, and with the way Dean kept looking me up and down like he couldn’t wait to ravage me, I knew I’d made the right choice.
His heated gaze didn’t stop me from wondering why he wandered away to talk to Pop though.
“We want to thank everyone for coming.” Jett’s deep voice boomed through the sound system, snagging my attention.
“This year marks a change at Ardis Ranch. Our father, Jack Jameson, has decided to retire. Or at least step down. I don’t think that man will ever stop.”
“Absolutely not!” Pop yelled. I turned to look at him and noticed Dean was gone. The crowd chuckled because everyone knew Pop would ranch until he died, but I was glad Jett was finally taking over.
“As I take up the leadership mantle, it’s important to say, I intend to honor the relationships Ardis Ranch has built over the generations.”
More hoots and howlers.
“The change in leadership isn’t the only shift in our family.” Jett paused.
That’s when I noticed out of the corner of my eye Dean dropping to one knee.
“Hey, Princess.”
Oh, hell no. Not here. Not like this.
The stillness surrounding me was stifling. I dropped to both of my knees in front of Dean and braced myself on his leg.
He chuckled. “You’re supposed to stay standing.”
I murmured, “Is this real or fake?”
“It’s whatever you need it to be, Jules,” he said just for me.
“I need more time.” I wanted forever with him, but I was still so tattered.
Dean brushed his thumb lightly over my cheekbone. I dropped my face into his powerful hand. “I know… take all the time you need. But please do it with me by your side.”
My eyes pricked, as happy tears tried to pour out of me. Fuck them—not today. The water made his handsome face a bit blurry, but they obeyed and didn’t fall.
Dean’s deep voice was for my ears only when he spoke. “Can you do that, Princess? Take the leap of faith needed to open your heart to me—to let me be by your side and within your soul, so I may have the honor of helping you heal?”
Yes! Instead, I nodded, choking on happy tears. They were better than my usual ones.
“Words, Princess… yes or no?” Dean smirked at me.
I sniffled. “Yes.”
“May I?” A ring box appeared in front of me as he gestured to my left hand. “Think of it as a tether, Princess… a promise. I’ve got you.” He kissed me sweetly. “This ring symbolizes that I’m. Not. Going. Anywhere.”
I nodded rapidly.
Dean slid the ring over my finger and leaned into my ear. “No matter how much time you need. You hear me?”
“Yes, Dean.”
“There’s my good girl.”
Dean dropped the box to capture my face. As he maneuvered to take my lips, I knew this kiss was different—it was the look in his eyes. This kiss would cost me my soul, and without hesitation, I kissed him first. If I was going to sacrifice my essence, it’d be on my terms.