9. Grady
Grady
Chapter 9
One month later
After Avery flew back to college, little signs of Birdie began to appear all over the house. Her toothbrush rested on the opposite side of the sink from mine. Her high-heeled, lace-up boots rested by the door, snuggled close to my cracked, dusty old cowboy boots. The faint scent of her honeysuckle perfume lingered in the bathroom every morning, even after she’d left to open Lavender Lane for the day.
A few plants appeared in the kitchen window—basil, sage, and rosemary—lending a cozy, spicy scent to the room. No one had ever bothered with keeping any kind of greenery on the ranch before. I had a notoriously black thumb. My ex-wife had never been the type to bother with plants. And Avery was usually too busy riding horses or flirting with local boys, despite my protest.
Having those herbs on the windowsill, flush and thriving, made the house feel more like a home. I had a habit of throwing myself into business, getting tunnel vision on my goals. Birdie knew how to live, cultivating and nurturing the little things that brought joy and comfort.
“Are you sure you don’t mind me intruding?” Birdie said.
It was Friday afternoon in late November, and she’d closed the shop for the weekend. As she wrestled a bulging duffel bag full of clothes from the back of her truck, I reached past her and slid the strap off her shoulder. Then I hooked an arm around her waist and pulled her close for a kiss.
“You’re not intruding, sweetheart,” I replied. “I promise. I like having you around.”
A pleased flush of pink crept into Birdie’s cheeks. I was looking forward to having her all to myself for the weekend. I never realized how big and empty the house was before she came along and filled every empty, dark corner with her warm personality.
I hoisted her duffel bag onto my shoulder and offered my other arm to her. She took it, hugging my bicep.
“Avery called the shop this morning. She said she’d like to meet up over Christmas break. Maybe spend the day together, just us girls.”
“Sounds like you two are scheming again,” I countered.
Secretly, I was relieved to see them getting along so well. Even though Avery had been the driving force behind pushing me into the dating world again, I wasn’t sure how she would handle it with Birdie under our roof. But she seemed to be delighted, calling Birdie just to chat—about school, the flower shop, the ranch.
“Does she know?” Birdie asked.
I faltered for a split second.
“About what?”
Birdie gestured toward the house.
“That I’m staying with you every weekend! This is her home, too. I don’t want her to be blindsided. Just because you don’t feel like I’m intruding, doesn’t mean that Avery feels the same way.”
That’s what I loved about Birdie—her kindness. She had so much love and consideration to give everyone around her. I swept a lock of hair away from her cheek and tucked it behind her ear, dragging my thumb down her jawline.
“Trust me, honey,” I said. “Avery is perfectly fine with you being here. When I told her we were officially dating, she wasn’t surprised at all. She wants you in our lives just as much as I do.”
Birdie ducked her head but not before I caught a glimpse of her small, pleased smile.
“Hey, boss!”
I turned to see Beau, one of my hired hands, striding toward us with a paper bag in hand. The logo on the front was recognizable instantly: Bread & Butter Bakery.
“My wife told me to drop this off for you and Birdie,” he said. “Rory made too many pastries again. Now that Thanksgiving is over, we have more leftovers than we know what to do with.”
Birdie accepted the bag and breathed in deeply.
“They smell heavenly! Thank you! That was very kind of Rory.”
I studied Beau who stood there, bursting at the seams with pride. Ever since he got married to the woman of his dreams earlier this year, he wouldn’t shut up about her. Praising her to everyone who would listen. They were expecting a baby in the spring, too.
“So, married life is treating you well, Beau?” I asked.
“Best decision I’ve ever made, if I’m honest, sir,” he replied without missing a beat. “God only knows how I got so lucky.”
I glanced at Birdie’s profile, her eyes gleaming bright, her breath frosting in the cold air. It struck me that I had no clue how I ended up with this beautiful, thoughtful, incredible woman on my arm. For twenty years, I was convinced I would remain a bachelor for the rest of my days. Then she appeared in a cloud of flower petals and honeysuckle perfume and I was lost forever.
God only knows how I got so lucky.
I couldn’t agree more.
Saturdays were designated for sleeping in. Unless it was an emergency, my ranch hands knew not to approach the house with anything business related until noon, at the earliest.
Birdie and I browsed a light breakfast in bed—fruit, toast, and muffins. She managed to figure out the coffee maker on the first try, making frothy, vanilla-scented cappuccino for herself. I remained devoted to my black, bitter coffee.
All night long, I stared at the ceiling, replaying the interaction with Beau in my head. I knew in my gut that I wanted Birdie to be my wife. I knew it within the first week of that whirlwind flirtation during the Harvest Festival last month. The question of a marriage proposal weighed heavier on my tongue with every passing day.
I scrubbed a hand over my mouth and rose from the bed, grabbing my jeans.
“I was thinking,” I said. “You should start planting some flowers around here in the spring.”
Birdie glanced up in surprise, a slice of strawberry halfway to her mouth.
“At High Plains?”
“Why not? There’s plenty of space. You could grow more, which would benefit your business.”
She considered for a moment and put her fork down, adjusting the sheets as if that would make her more presentable even though I was fully aware she wasn’t wearing a stitch of clothing.
“I know what you’re doing,” she said.
I tugged my jeans on, zipped up the fly, but left my belt unbuckled.
“Which is…?”
“You’re going to convince me to sell Lavender Lane and move in with you.”
Well. She wasn’t wrong. That was part of my plan.
“You can set up a new shop,” I offered. “A bigger one. It would cut down on expenses, travel time…”
Birdie shook her head.
“I don’t want a bigger one.”
I paused, confused. Maybe I needed to back off. Maybe I was taking this too fast.
“I love Lavender Lane, Grady,” Birdie continued. “I built it. I repaired the house. I weeded that garden until my hands were bleeding. It might look shabby to you when you have this grand ranch, but it’s mine. I’d like to keep it.”
I nodded, moving to the closet to grab a shirt. I understood what it was like to feel fiercely protective of the dream you had fought to build for years. I would never ask her to give that up to be with me.
“Then keep the shop,” I said. “You can still grow more flowers here, right?”
Birdie fiddled with the edge of the sheets. I could tell she liked the idea, restraining herself from pouncing. I placed my hands on the mattress and leaned in, kissing her forehead.
“There is plenty of room for flowers and cattle to exist on a spread of land this size. I promise.”
She beamed and wrapped her arms around my neck, nuzzling into my cheek. I palmed at her breast through the thin fabric of the sheets until her nipple stiffened beneath my hand. I desperately needed to put a ring on this woman’s finger, sooner rather than later.
“Come to town with me today,” I said.
Birdie hedged.
“I should stay here. I’ve been putting off some stuffy bookkeeping.”
“The bookkeeping can wait. Let’s go to the courthouse and get married.”
She blinked at me, wide eyed. My stomach twisted and my throat went dry. I had intended to have the ring in hand before I popped the question. But it was all tumbling out now anyway.
“We can put together a big fancy wedding later,” I hurried to add. “It’s not a very romantic proposal, I know, but I thought when we tied the knot, it could just be you and me. Then you can invite the whole damn town—”
Birdie flung the sheets aside and raced for the bathroom.
“I’ll be ready in five minutes! Don’t leave without me!”
She was dressed in record time, flying out of the bathroom breathless as she twisted her hair off her neck into a hurried knot. Bouncing on her toes, she rose up to place a quick peck on my lips. I chuckled.
“You’re not disappointed?” I asked.
Birdie grabbed her boots and tugged them on.
“Why on earth would I be disappointed?”
“It’s hardly a proper proposal. I didn’t even get down on one knee.”
She waved me off.
“Grady, if you got down on one knee, you’d have trouble getting back up.”
I frowned, but I let the comment slide. Mostly because it was true.
“I don’t have a ring yet,” I pointed out. “And I promised to get you a big diamond.”
Birdie slipped her arm through mine.
“I know you’re a man of your word. Now, let’s go get married.”
I grew increasingly nervous as we neared the courthouse. For my previous marriage, I’d been too cocky to realize the full extent of what I was getting into. This time, I knew exactly what I had to lose if I screwed things up with Birdie.
Meanwhile, Birdie seemed steady as a rock. She signed the paperwork with a firm signature, while my ink was shaky and jittery on the paper. I tugged at my collar, attempting to get some air.
Birdie put her hand on my shoulder, unbuttoned my collar, and pressed her lips to my neck. I closed my eyes, feeling a sense of calm wash over me. We were good for each other. It was going to work this time.
When the paperwork was finished, I turned to Birdie, wrapping my arms around her waist.
“Wife,” I said, savoring the wonderful taste of that word in my mouth.
Birdie grinned from ear to ear.
“Husband,” she replied, and I knew I would never tire of hearing her say that as long as I lived.