Bonus Scene
BIRDIE
I move along the pathway, making my way to the arena that sits just beyond the main house, tucked low behind the barn.
Lane and Cody made their way down there earlier while I did my Saturday chores around the house, you know the kind where you clean the inside of the house, it stays clean for an hour at most, and then chaos ensues.
And while Lane would have stayed back to help, it’s pointless when hurricane Cody would make a mess in our wake.
So, he offered to take Cody down to the arena, and I’d meet them down here.
My goal is to keep both of my guys out of the house for as long as possible, even if that means hanging outside for the majority of the day.
I hear them before I see them. The open arena has shelter in the form of a roof to ward off the sun and heat, a must with all the children we have running around.
Cody’s laughter echoes. I’m tempted to rush toward them, wanting to hear his little boy noises and what has him excited.
I round the corner, noticing Lane is standing in the center of the arena, booted feet planted in the dirt, hat low, and gaze centered on our son.
Always watchful.
Our son notices me before I can say a word. I climb up on the fence, swinging a leg over, and perching on the top rung.
“Momma, watch!” Cody twists his little body my way, wide grin, hat on his head, just like his daddy’s.
“I am,” Lane’s eyes go straight to mine, giving me a look that only a man who wrecked my world earlier this morning in the best way possible.
My stomach swirls, my face heats, and I know he’s promising me more tonight.
Cody’s bouncing hard on the little practice cow, boots knocking as he forces it into a jerky spin.
The springs creaking in the metal contraption, in my book, this is a whole lot safer than him trying to get on one of the miniature cows or a mechanical bull.
“I’m ridin’!” I laugh at his words, losing Lane’s heated stare in the process.
“It sure looks like it,” my attention and Lane’s go to Cody’s, tracking every moment like he could stop something from happening by watching hard enough.
Lane Johnson, always the protector, it’s ingrained in him.
He’s been this way his whole life, and when he loves the person, it’s ten times stronger.
Believe me, I know from firsthand experiences all those years ago.
Then Cody was born, and I got to watch it all over again.
Cody’s attention span wanes, he stops moving, the cow does too, and then he’s plopping himself to the ground, landing feet first. I watch as he dusts himself off, the little leather chaps he has on over his jeans, and resettles his hat on his head.
I’m honestly surprised Lane didn’t put him in a helmet of some sort.
“I go to Nana’s to get a ‘nack,” Cody announces before he makes his way to the opposite side of the arena, where he can crawl between the fence rungs.
It’s also closer to the main house, where his grandparents are currently sitting on the front porch, having a cup of coffee and waiting for the grandchildren to come visit them.
From there, Cody, along with the others, will converge.
We won’t see him for at least an hour, and when he does re-emerge, it’ll be full of sweets.
Lane shifts, closing the distance between him and me like it’s his first instinct. His hand settles on my waist—firm, steady, and like it belongs.
“You shouldn’t be sitting up here like this, Birdie,” Lane states, trying to boss me around like usual.
“And why shouldn’t?” His jaw flexes, and I wait him out.
“Don’t want you fallin’,” quiet falls around us.
“You’d catch me if I did,” I counter, knowing he would; he’d do anything to break my fall, including hurting himself.
“Damn right I would,” his chest puffs with air and pride. I know full well that while he’s worried about me falling, I left the test out on the counter in our bathroom, unopened, and waiting to be used. It’s more of a formality than a question.
“He’s getting big,” I say softly, changing the subject as he helps me off the railing, our chests meet, my head tilts up, his looks down, and his arms stay wrapped around me in a firm hold.
“Too damn fast,” is Lane’s response. He’s contemplative, deep in thought, and I know he’s thinking what I’m thinking.
“You want to go up to the house with me while I take the test?” That earns me a quiet smile.
He backs me up until I’m pressed against the fence.
His hands glide lower, cupping the cheeks of my ass, head dipping lower, and lips grazing mine.
Lane doesn’t hesitate, and neither do I.
The moment our kiss begins, everything changes.
Gone is the gentleness; in its place is a deep and fast pace, breaking loose.
His tongue swipes across my lower lip, gaining entrance immediately.
My hands delve in his hair, knocking his cowboy hat to the dusty ground, and he hikes the back of my thigh up to rest over his waist.
It doesn’t matter that we're out in the open, where anyone can see what we’re doing; the place is big enough, we all know enough to avert our eyes, and back track with a quickness.
When Lane pulls back, only far enough for us to calm our rapidly beating hearts, his forehead rests against mine, both of us still caught up in the moment.
“Fuck yeah,” a rough breath leaves him, satisfaction rolls around him in waves, and his eyes stay locked on mine. “Let’s go see what it says.” His voice lowers, my core tightens, and I know whatever it says will lead to a whole lot more of this, only with Lane inside me.