“Yes, well, if you watchedLady Vet, then you know I’ve always been a country girl at heart.”
I get to my feet, shooting Jenny a quick glance. The last thing we need is a reporter reminiscing with mom about things shemight not fully remember. “Mom, can you go with Jenny until Roberta is finished up here?”
My mother bristles like I’ve just sent her to her room without supper. “Ellis, this isn’t my first rodeo with reporters.” She places her hands on her hips and stares the other woman down. “Let me ask you one thing, Roberta. How important is a name, would you say?”
“A name?” Roberta blinks at her as she resumes her seat. “Well, I think it can tell you a lot, especially if you know the context. Lily from Rosie’s Blooms, for example.” She nods in her direction, a little sheepish. “It doesn’t get much sweeter than that.”
“Then apply that same reasoning to my grandson,” Mom says crisply. “Leo. L.E.O. Look around this room and tell me that Lily wasn’t thinking of her matesequallywhen she named our boy.”
“Logan. Ellis. Otley,” Lily says quietly, while the three of us stare at each other in shock. “I might have been eighteen, pregnant, and terrified out of my mind, but I knew what kind of a man I wanted my son to be.” She looks at me, a touch of apology in her eyes. “At the time, I didn’t know he was yours, but I wanted all three of you to have some part of him, even if you never ended up meeting.”
“Don’t say that,” I say quickly, pulling her into my arms. This is probably the million-dollar picture that every reporter in the country is dreaming of, but Roberta just sits back with a soft smile on her face. “Nothing is as important as what we have now. You’re the best mom he could ever have, and we’ll spend the rest of our lives trying to earn the trust you placed in us.”
Otley and Logan both look shell-shocked by her revelation, but they offer solemn nods and Lily relaxes a little. But it’s my mom who holds my attention. Her gaze might not be as bright or sharp as it once was, but the love pouring out of it is enough to make tears well in my own eyes.
As far as we’re concerned, the interview is over. But while the guys take Lily into the kitchen to decompress, Roberta tries to slip in one more question on the way to the door. “What’s next for you, Ellis? Will there be another Agent Ripcord blockbuster on our screens this summer?”
“Dates, dates, and more dates,” I say without hesitation. “Because if our lifewasa Hollywood movie, I plan on making it the romance story of the century. And feel free to quote me on that.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT – LILY
The next week passes in a haze of perfect summer mornings and sweet star-filled nights. The only cloud on the horizon is the lingering media storm, although when Roberta sends through the transcript from the interview, it’s surprisingly sympathetic. Otley passes the article outline on to his legal team, and the next day, his investigators confirm that the initial leak came from Tahlia, Ellis’ ex-agent. She’s quickly slapped with a suit for slander and malice against a public figure, and in less than an hour she drops her own legal case and sends Ellis a long, rambling letter of apology. The face he pulls as he forwards it to the lawyers, unanswered, sends a bolt of spite-filled joy through me.
With that off my mind, I let myself indulge in everything the ranch has to offer, swimming, riding, and hiking until my calves grow hard as rocks and new freckles pop on my cheeks. Breakfasts are held out on the deck and dinners around the formal dining table, but the hours in between meander along like one of the creeks snaking through the hills. Otley andTristan have to spend a couple of hours each day on their work projects, but Ellis and Logan insist they’re footloose and fancy free. Most of our activities revolve around the lake and stables, so I’m not surprised when Ellis takes me aside and asks me to ride with him to the old homestead.
It's in the far corner of the ranch, and a place I’ve only seen on the property map. Tomorrow’s Roses is more than happy to go exploring, and we ride hard for nearly an hour before the house comes into view. It’s a long, rustic log cabin reinforced with stone, and sits beside a barn with a new red roof covered in solar panels. Ellis informs me that the road leading to the highway is just over the rise, making it the fastest way in and out of the ranch. It has its own water source with a bunch of creeks running into a wide, gleaming river, and even at a glance, I can tell the property has been recently renovated.
“Are you thinking of renting it out?” I ask as we walk the horses over to the barn. Ellis’ horse is a large bay thoroughbred called Happy Days, and he doesn’t just move beneath him like they’re part of the same animal, they also share the same sunny, affectionate disposition.
But when Ellis jumps down to open the large double doors, I can smell his nervousness over the scent of fresh hay and the tang of leather. “Not exactly. Do you want to lay out the picnic while I see to the horses?”
I nod, grabbing the blanket and saddlebags and walking over to a huge oak tree on the riverbank. The mountain bluebirds are chirping, and butterflies are dancing in the wildflowers sprouting in the brush. It’s a ridiculously pretty view, and I sigh with pleasure as I roll out the blanket and start unloading the supplies. Everything is packed in sturdy travel containers, and I smile as I catch a whiff of dark, rich cherries.
Ellis comes over a few minutes later, brushing his hair out of his eyes and smiling at the spread. “Lexington’s to the rescue again.”
“I don’t think so.” I tap my fingers on one of the containers. “Those pinwheels are definitely Otley’s recipe.”
Ellis looks puzzled as he lowers himself to the blanket beside me. “Ot’s? What do you mean?”
“Oops.” I wince as I pop the lid and hold out one of the cheesy snacks. “I think he wanted to tell you himself. He’s been taking cooking classes remotely. That’s how he prepared all the food for book club.”
“Seriously? I thought it was just shipped to him, ready to heat.”
I pluck a miniature pie from another container and take an appreciative sniff. “Nope. This is definitely his.”
Ellis leans forward, his eyes narrowing in suspicion. “Cherry pie? So, he’s not just sneaking around the kitchen, he’s trying to horn in on my date.”
I laugh and pop the pie in my mouth, groaning in delight. “I think cooking is his happy place. And if it tastes this good, I’m all for encouraging him.”
Ellis snorts, grabbing a pie and dropping onto an elbow so that he’s looking up at me through his inky lashes. “And what about you? Do you think this could be your happy place, Lily?”
We’re sitting close enough that I can see the flecks of gold in his green eyes, and the way his pulse is beating fast at the base of his throat. The moment feels a lot heavier than a picnic on a riverbank, and I reach down to brush a finger over his cheekbone. His skin feels like silk, and I’m not surprised that his face has won him a legion of fans across the world. “It’s perfect, Ellis. To be honest, I wouldn't change a thing about this ranch.” I flick a piece of grass at him. “And the people living on it aren’t too bad, either.”
His lashes flutter, and when he captures my wrist, he presses his lips to my own erratic pulse. In all of the daydreams and fantasies I spun about him over the years, I never let myself believe that I could end up somewhere like here, with him looking at me like this. “Ellis…”
“Lily.” My name is a groan I feel all the way to my toes. I don’t wait for him to pull me down, stretching my body over his until our hearts are beating in tandem. I’m wearing a bandana with dancing ducks on it, and he smiles as he gently tucks my hair beneath the fabric. After a gallop across the ranch, it’s a lost cause, but I love the feel of his hands on me too much to stop him.
“Sometimes I’d wake up in the middle of the night,” I murmur, watching his mouth, “and I’d think I was back in that hotel room in LA. It was dark, but I could hear your breathing, and I knew if I reached out, you’d be right there. Do you know how hard it was to wake up after nights like that?”
