He nods. “I’m glad you’re happy, Mrs. Fields.”
“I am.” Still holding Parker’s hand, I stroke Bonnet’s nose, and a camera clicks.
It’ll be nice to have photos of my wedding day.
* * *
After the reception,Parker is uncharacteristically quiet as we drive to Comfort. The small town isn’t far from the ranch, but the trip feels twice as long because of the silence. But awkwardness between friends is silly.
“So, I’ve been thinking.” I shift the seat belt and turn to face him. “Besides the obvious change of my moving into your place, I don’t want you to change your life for me. Whatever you did before, keep doing that.”
This is important because I don’t want Parker enduring what I did growing up.
“Bluebonnet, I wrangle horses, eat in the mess hall, and occasionally hang out with the guys in the game room. Change isn’t a bad thing.”
“I wasn’t really talking about that stuff. But I still want you to hang out with the guys. And Mason. And I don’t want you to stop eating. Obviously.” I study his face. “When you were younger, you used to sing in the shower. When did you stop?”
He shoots me a sideways look. “Why?”
“That’s the kind of stuff I’m talking about. I want you to still be you. Don’t change because of me. Please.”
After a quick nod, he pulls into a parking space. “That’s fine. I’ll sing my little heart out in the shower if that makes you happy. Anything else?”
I glance at the hotel. “Not that I can think of.”
“Bluebonnet, our lives will inevitably change. It’s a good thing, I think. But I don’t expect anything from you.” He looks at the hotel, then back at me. “Okay?”
I don’t need an interpreter to understand his meaning. “I know, Parker.” I tilt my head, remembering his dimples. “I like your beard, but it covers your dimples, which is kinda sad.”
“Looking grown up is much easier without dimples appearing every time I smile.”
“That’s not true. You look plenty grown up. And I like that you smile a lot.”
He laughs as he slides out of the truck. “I’ll get our bags.”
Check-in only takes a few minutes, and then we are in our cabin.
It’s late, and I’m both hungry and worn out. “I should’ve eaten more. Did you see a snack machine in the lobby?”
Considering it’s a historic hotel, I doubt they have stuff like that.
“I’ll find you food. You can shower while I’m gone if you want.” He jingles his keys. “I won’t be gone too long.”
I pull pajamas out of my bag and enjoy a hot shower while he’s getting my food. Besides sleepovers at Paisley’s, I’ve never really shared a room with anyone, not counting the few times I stayed overnight with John. But I’m trying to forget he exists.
When I walk out of the bathroom, Parker is in flannel pajamas, and there is a Dairy Queen bag and two drinks on the table.
“Cheeseburger with extra pickles and a vanilla Dr Pepper.” He takes food out of the bag and hands over my burger.
“When did you get those jammies? Because I know you don’t sleep in flannel pajamas every night.”
“Yesterday.”
“Remember what I said about keep doing what you were doing? We’re married so it doesn’t have to be weird.”
“Says the woman who’s wearing fleece pajamas in August.” He lifts his brows, eyeing me. “Is that whatyounormally wear to bed?”
“Not typically.” I hold his gaze a second, then look down at the horses on my fuzzy pants. “I guess it should be a two-way street, huh?”
