My gaze shifts, finding Christian, Preston, and Callan standing near the bar, watching the scene unfold. Even now, all these months later, Callan and Violet are still tangled up in whatever the hell it is they’re pretending isn’t happening. But anyone with a brain could see that if Callan had half the chance, he’d haul Violet off that dance floor, pin her up against the nearest wall, and fuck the attitude right out of her.
“He’s always had a crush on her, you know,” I hear Ivy say, and I spin around to face her.
“Callan?”
“Callan? Honey, no. Colt. He always ran around after Savannah like a little lost puppy.”
“Really?” I laugh, watching as Colt towers over Savannah on the dance floor, his arm casually around her waist, and her hand tucked in his.
“Pretty sure he’s always been head over heels for her. That’s probably why he’s never brought a woman home.”
“Maybe he’s not into women,” I joke, raising an eyebrow.
Ivy just laughs, shaking her head. “No, sweetie. He’s into one woman. Always has been.”
But to me, Colton and Savannah just look like two people who’ve known each other forever and are completely at ease in each other’s company.
I’m still smiling at the sight of them when I feel two large hands on my shoulders.
I’d know those hands anywhere.
“You mind if I steal my girl for a spin on the dance floor, Ivy?” Christian asks.
Ivy stands, her smile soft and full of something deeper, more maternal, as she moves toward him. She reaches up and cradles his face between her hands, her thumbs brushing over his cheekbones like he’s still the boy she once watched grow up, not the strong, capable man standing tall in front of her now. She rises up on her toes to kiss his cheek and whispers something in his ear that draws a smile from him before stepping back.
My cowboy holds a hand out to me, and just as I reach for him, Riley Green starts spilling from the jukebox. Christian pulls me flush against him, fitting me to his body like he’s done it a thousand times in a thousand different lives. One hand splays across my lower back, possessive and warm through the thin fabric of my dress, and his other hand cradles mine, pressing it tight against his chest.
I tip my head back, my eyes tracing the familiar, worn brim of the black cowboy hat perched on his head. The way he’s looking at me is something else. Something I’ve never seen before, and I thought I’d seen every look this man could give me.
“Are you okay?” I ask, as we sway to the slow pull of the song. Right now, it feels like the whole world has faded away, and it’s just him and me.
“Can I ask you something?” I nod as my heart thuds against my ribs. “Do you have everything you want?”
“What do you mean?”
“Our life,” he says quietly. “I just… I guess I wanna make sure this is enough for you because if there’s something you need or something you dream about, I’ll give it to you.”
His words hit me straight in the chest, and for a second, I can only stare up at him. I narrow my eyes a little, studying him, trying to figure out where this is coming from.
“Of course it is. I love you, and I love what we’re building…”What if it’s not enough for him?“Do you want more?”
His thumb moves over the back of my hand, the one still pressed tight against his chest.
“Yeah, I want more.”
“More than me?”
Christian shakes his head immediately, his grip on me tightening. “No… Jesus, no. But I want you in white, standing in front of me, looking into my eyes when I say my vows and promise you everything I am in front of everyone we love. I wanna watch you say yes to forever while I swear to love you until the day I die.”
My whole body locks up, my heart hammering so hard against my chest I’m sure he can feel it between us.
“I want to carry you over the threshold and make love to you in our home until there’s not a single corner you can stand in without feeling me all over your body. I want to see your belly swell with the baby I put inside you. I want to hold your hand while we raise a little piece of you and me and teach them what real love looks like. I want the fights, the laughter, the late nights, and the long mornings. I want a life with you, a big, messy, beautiful life.”
His hand moves up, cradling the back of my head, and when he speaks again, his voice is wrecked.
“I want to love you so good that when your time comes,”—he breaks off for a second, swallowing hard, like the words physically hurt to say—“you’ll leave this world with that beautiful smile on your face… knowing you’re just coming home to me and that I’ll be waiting for you, impatient as hell, in heaven.”
My eyes gloss over as Christian takes my hands and presses them tight over my heart. It’s pounding so violently that I swear it’s trying to fight its way out of my chest. Slowly, he moves, pulling my hands away and placing them flat over his chest, and I feel the wild beat of his heart matching mine, like two halves of something that were always meant to find each other.
