“Wes and I were gonna give Brooks a tour of the ranch, but we should be back to Pops' for dinner.”
I huff out a laugh. “Of course you will. You men and your stomachs always needing filled.”
Tripp leans in and gives me a kiss, long and sweet, before pinching my side and putting his lips to my ear. “Don’t worry, honey. I’ll save some room so I can still have you for dessert.”
He marches toward the stables with Brooks, pointing and gesturing wide as he tells him about Dawson Ranch. And as I watch him stride off, talking a mile a minute about this land he loves, I know without a doubt I’ve found my place right here—with him.
Epilogue
Tripp
The white and pink flowers surrounding me are Quinn’s doing, but the arch that holds them in place is mine—built with my own two hands. Rows of chairs line the backyard, twinkle lights strung above, and a huge white tent with tables dressed in centerpieces—that’s all the wedding planner and Janine Dawson.
My palms are sweaty, but it’s a beautiful day—the perfect day for an outdoor wedding. The photographer snaps pictures as I wait. We wanted my first look of Quinn in her dress to be private, just me and her—well, and the photographer, I guess.
Nerves buzz through me, making me bounce on the balls of my feet in anticipation. It feels like I've waited a lifetime for this moment.
And then, she comes around the corner and I’m frozen in place, my breath stalling as I stare at the love of my life dressed in white.
The lace clings to her curves, flaring at the bottom. Her hair’s pinned up in an intricate braid, soft curls threaded with pearls. Standing in place is nearly impossible.
I want to run to her, gather her in my arms, and crush my lips to hers. But Nina, the photographer, gave me strict instructions to stay put and let Quinn come to me.
Tears fill my eyes, and my hands clench and release, aching to feel her.
She’s beautiful. She always is—whether she’s in her scrubs for work or all dolled up.
But this?
Christ, I didn’t know anyone could be so perfect.
After what feels like hours, she reaches the arch of flowers. I lift my hand and cup her face. She smiles, closing her eyes in contentment.
“You’re the most beautiful creature I’ve ever seen,” I whisper, resting my forehead on hers.
I tune out the sound of the camera clicking furiously, basking in this moment with the woman who was always the one meant for me.
Her grin widens. “Don’t make me cry. It’ll ruin my makeup.”
I let out a soft chuckle, already dissolving into joyous tears. She brushes at my wet cheeks.
“Sorry, honey. I’ll try to get it together.” My voice comes out a croak that makes her laugh—soft and steady, like home.
I pull her tight against me. She fits perfectly, like she was always meant to be right here.
We stay like that for a few beautiful moments until Nina starts giving orders again.
“Whisper something in her ear,” she commands. “Make her laugh again.”
I lean down, lips brushing her ear. “Think we can sneak off? You look so damn pretty in that dress. All I can picture is it bunched around your hips while I’m buried inside you.”
She lets out a startled laugh, then melts against me with a breathless, “Please.”
My lips ghost over her neck, and I inhale her scent, floral and soft and fucking mine.
“Oh, that’s so good, you two,” Nina squeals from the ground where she’s kneeling.
Pictures drag on far too long, and by the time Nina finally has everything she wants, we’re only thirty minutes from the ceremony. The plan was that the women would be inside and the men out near the tent. But I’ll be damned if I let Quinn out of my sight.
