Chapter 25 - Jesse #2
I take the pitchfork from her hands, setting it aside before backing her gently against the wall. My hands find her waist, fingers spanning across the soft curves there, and I feel her hands come up to rest against my chest.
“I talked to Truett,” I tell her, my voice low.
“What did he say?” There’s a note of worry in her voice, and I hate that she’s still not sure of her place here, still not confident in what we have.
“He gave us his blessing,” I say, watching relief flood her features. “He said if you had to fall in love with someone, he’s glad it’s me.”
Her laugh is soft and a little watery. “He said that?”
“He did. Among other things.” I lean down, pressing my forehead against hers. “He also said I better take good care of you.”
“And what did you tell him?”
“I told him that was already my top priority.”
She smiles up at me, and I can see something shift in her expression, some last wall crumbling away. “I love you, Jesse.”
The words hit me like lightning, even though she’s said them before. I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of hearing them.
“I love you too,” I tell her, and then I’m kissing her, tasting the salt of her skin and the sweetness that’s purely her.
Her hands fist in my shirt, pulling me closer, and I press her back against the wooden wall. The barn around us fades away until there’s nothing but the feel of her lips against mine, the way she melts into my touch, the soft sounds she makes that drive me absolutely crazy.
When we finally break apart, we’re both breathing hard. Her lips are swollen from my kisses, her cheeks flushed, and I have to fight the urge to carry her out of this barn and straight to my bed.
“We should probably finish the stalls,” she says, but her voice is husky, and her hands are still gripping my shirt.
“Probably,” I agree, but I make no move to step away from her.
She laughs, the sound echoing in the space between us. “You’re not making this easy.”
“I’m not trying to,” I admit. “I like having you close.”
“I like being close,” she says, and the honesty in her voice makes my chest tighten.
I force myself to step back, to give us both some breathing room. But I catch her hand in mine, linking our fingers together.
“Are you happy, Aubree?” I ask her, suddenly needing to know. “Really happy?”
She looks up at me, her deep brown eyes soft and warm. “Happier than I’ve ever been,” she says without hesitation. “I spent so many years thinking I knew what I wanted, thinking I had to leave here to find it. But everything I was looking for was right here all along.”
“Even me?” I tease, but there’s a serious note underneath it.
“Especially you,” she says, squeezing my hand. “I knew it back then, but you made me work for it.”
I laugh. “I made you work for it? You’re the one who left.”
“Because I was embarrassed and terrified,” she admits. “I was terrified of ruining the friendship we had—that you had with Truett—if I convinced you to give us a chance and then things went wrong.”
“You’re not going to lose me,” I tell her firmly. “Not ever. You’re stuck with me now.”
“Good,” she says, rising up on her toes to press a quick kiss to my lips. “Because I’m not letting you go either.”
We stand there for a moment, just looking at each other, and I marvel at how different everything feels now. How the air between us has changed, charged with possibility and promise.
“What about you?” she asks suddenly. “Are you happy?”
I consider the question, thinking about everything that’s led us to this moment. The years of friendship, the careful distance we maintained, the fear and uncertainty, and finally, finally, the moment when we stopped fighting what was between us.
“Yes,” I tell her, and the certainty in my voice surprises even me. “All because a beautiful woman tempted me with a kiss.”
Her smile is radiant, lighting up her entire face. “Just one kiss?”
“Well,” I say, pulling her closer again. “Maybe it was more than one.”
“Maybe it was,” she agrees, and then she’s kissing me again, soft and sweet and full of promise.
When we break apart this time, I rest my chin on top of her head, breathing in the scent of her hair, the smell of sunshine and hay that clings to her skin.
“We should really finish these stalls,” she says again, but she makes no move to pull away from me.
“We should,” I agree. “But first, there’s something I want to ask you.”
She pulls back to look at me, curiosity in her eyes. “What?”
“Move in with me,” I say, the words tumbling out before I can second-guess them.
“I know we said we’d figure out the logistics later, but I don’t want to wait.
I want to wake up next to you every morning.
I want to fall asleep with you in my arms every night.
I want to build a life with you, starting now.
I’ll even build you a fireplace like the one here. ”
Her eyes widen, and for a moment I think maybe I’ve moved too fast, pushed too hard. But then her face breaks into a smile that could power the entire ranch.
“Yes,” she says, laughing. “Yes, of course, yes.”
And as I spin her around in the middle of that barn, her laughter echoing off the rafters, I think about how perfect this moment is. How right it feels to have her here, in my arms, choosing me the same way I choose her.
When I set her down, she’s still smiling, still glowing with happiness. “I can’t believe this is real,” she says.
“It’s real,” I assure her. “We’re real.”
She nods, and I can see her trying to process everything, trying to wrap her mind around the fact that she’s finally home, finally where she belongs.
“Now,” I say, picking up the pitchfork and handing it back to her. “Let’s finish these stalls so we can go celebrate properly.”
She takes the pitchfork, but she’s still smiling that radiant smile. “What kind of celebration did you have in mind?”
“The kind that involves a lot less clothing and a lot more privacy,” I tell her, and her cheeks flush pink.
“Jesse!” she protests, but she’s laughing.
“What? I’m just saying, we have a lot of time to make up for.”
She shakes her head, but she’s still smiling as she gets back to work. And as I watch her, as I help her finish the last few stalls, I can’t help but think about how different my life was just a few days ago. How empty it seems now in comparison.
The sun is starting to set by the time we’re done, painting the sky in shades of orange and pink that match the warmth spreading through my chest. Aubree is tired, her hair even messier now, dirt on her jeans, and contentment in her eyes.
“Ready to go home?” I ask her, taking her hand.
She looks up at me, and the way she smiles makes my heart skip a beat.
“With you?” she says. “I’m ready for anything.”
And as we walk out of that barn together, hands linked, faces turned toward the sunset, I know that whatever comes next, we’ll face it together.
We’ll build something beautiful here, something lasting.
We’ll create the kind of love story that Truett talked about, the kind that withstands anything life throws at it.
Because she’s right. We’re ready for anything, as long as we’re together.