Speaking of rings, her left hand looked empty without one, but that was fine. He had promised her during their dance the night before that he would give her a ring when he found one worthy of her. What was a girl supposed to say to that? She hadn’t said anything, instead she kissed him right on the dance floor.
Turning on the shower, she sighed at how her neck still tingled from his beard scrapes, and when she rolled her shoulders, she felt the gentle pull of the love bite just above her collarbone. She pressed two fingers to it and smiled, feeling small and stupidly happy.
It was hard to believe she was married to the man who, six months ago, looked at her across a crowded bar and decided then she was his Little girl. The man who spanked her to tears the first time she tried to run. Who held her through nightmares and panicattacks and every ugly piece of her past. Who stood in front of family and friends yesterday and promised to be hers forever in that low, steady voice that made her knees weak.
And he truly meant it. She knew it as surely as she knew the sun would set behind the Tetons every evening. Trace Daniels didn’t say things he didn’t mean. Unwilling to be away from him for any longer than she already had, she threw on some clothes, including one of Trace’s flannel shirts. The sleeves hung past her fingertips, and it smelled like him. She might wear one every day.
Downstairs, Boone’s booming laugh caught her attention before she reached the kitchen. Ruby clearly didn’t share whatever had sparked his amusement. Her order to watch the skillet or forfeit the privilege of eating any Wilder Rolls silenced the laughter, as it should. No one wanted to miss out on the sweet rolls from Bread & Batter, Junie’s bakery. She came up with the most incredible treats Kip had ever tasted—well, except for Ruby’s.
Kip entered the room just in time to hear Junie’s squeal when Tanner snatched a piece of bacon right out of her hand. The house was alive, bursting at the seams with family. None of them were hers by blood, but every single one of them had claimed her as a true sister yesterday with hugs, tears, and toasts that went on until Trace carried her upstairs.
A loose floorboard creaked under her weight, alerting everyone before she was ready. Suddenly, there were arms everywhere. Kenzie hit her first, cocoa on her breath and glitter in her hair. “There’s our bride! You’re glowing, woman. Also, you’re late. We’ve already started planning.”
“For what?” Kip asked. Had she missed a memo or something?
“For the wedding party, of course. Everyone will be here soon!” Kenzie danced away, calling over her shoulder, “It’s gonna be great!”
Wedding party? Wait, what?
Joy skipped over next, her hair wild and cheeks flushed from the cold. “We might have invited a few people out to the ranch for the day, to celebrate you and Trace getting married. The glitter bombs are loaded. We’re calling it Operation Sparkle Chaos.”
Kip looked down at her faded jeans and bulky sweater beneath Trace’s flannel shirt. She hadn’t dressed for a party, but since she was dressed like everyone else, she decided not to worry about it.
Tildi didn’t come over for a hug. She was overseeing her Daddy as he flipped bacon, commanding him like a general at war. From the look on Boone’s face, that wasn’t going to end well for her friend. Still, her friend managed to slide a mug of coffee across the island just as Kip was within reach. “Sit before these hooligans wear you out. You’re still on honeymoon time.”
Ruby gently touched Kip’s wrist and offered her a warm smile.
Kip’s eyes stung. She grabbed the coffee with both hands and let the warmth soak in. This was what family felt like. Loud and messy, and full of people who would burn the world down before they let anyone hurt her again.
Chance swept in and lifted her clean off the floor in a bear hug. “Mornin’, Mrs. Daniels.” He spun her once, boots dangling. “You’re officially stuck with us. No refunds, no exchanges.”
Stuck. That word should have scraped old wounds raw. Instead, it wrapped around her heart and squeezed. Because “stuck” with the Daniels clan meant Sunday dinners and someone always having your back and Trace’s ring, when he finally picked it out, on her finger for the rest of her life.
Trace appeared behind Chance, eyes stormy and narrowed. “Put my wife down before I put you down, Chance, brother or not.”
“In your dreams, little brother,” Chance said with a laugh.
Chance set her back on her feet, but Trace was already there. His large hands slid around her waist as he tugged her back againsthis chest. His beard scraped her temple when he growled, low enough only she could hear. “Mine.”
The single word lit her up from the inside out. She leaned into him, letting his heat chase away the last shadows of doubt. “All yours, Daddy,” she whispered, and relished the tightening of his arms.
After breakfast, the morning blurred into chaos and love in equal measure. Trucks kept rolling in, tires crunching over packed snow. Hank arrived with Chey and her Little one bundled like a rainbow gumdrop. Sam, Mitch, and Susan, who she later found out was there as Mitch’s date, drove up with coolers of beer and a pot of green-chili stew that made grown men cry, if the stories were true.
When Mitch looked back and saw Susan struggling with the giant pot she had lifted from the truck, he called Dutch over to help Sam with the cooler and then went back to Susan. True to Wilder’s style, words were exchanged, mostly from Mitch. He took the pot, put it back in the truck, swatted Susan’s bottom, and then kissed her silly.
God, she loved her town.
Next, Jack Clark pulled up in his big dually Ford F-450, Silas Holt riding shotgun, looking pale and twitchy and not meeting anyone’s eyes. Being used to solitary ranch life, he probably didn’t enjoy big parties. Levi Callahan (tall, quiet, hat in hand) climbed out and immediately started checking exits, like a man who’d learned the hard way that trouble never announced itself.
Thirty minutes later, a black Suburban with Washington State plates slid to a stop beside the barn. Kip had never even been to the state of Washington. Who in the world? Fear gripped her when it occurred to her it might be someone sent by Rios, but why would he send someone all the way from Washington?
“You have got to be kidding me!” Kenzie stood, frozen mid-step, holding a tray of cocoa, now tilting dangerously. The marshmallows jiggled in the mugs as if they knew what was coming.
A man Kip had never seen before unfolded from the back seat, all six-four lean, lethal inch of him. Kip might not recognize him, but he radiated danger from every pore. Wearing a charcoal cashmere coat that didn’t hide the width of his shoulders or the way the wool strained when he moved, he didn’t quite blend in with the other guests.
His skin was the color of warm bronze, and his sharp Sicilian cheekbones accentuated eyes so dark they appeared black. The man’s hair was the deep, blue-black of a raven’s wing and was just long enough to curl against his collar.
He shut the door with two fingers, the soft thunk somehow louder than the party noise, and every head in the yard turned. Even the wind seemed to pause. Then his gaze cut straight across the snow and locked on Kenzie, as if the rest of them no longer existed.
