Page 63 of Roped In


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I look him up and down now that he’s shirtless. My eyes catch on his tattoo. A tattoo for me. Like my own little brand. I shouldn’t love it this much, but I love that it leaves no doubt of who holds his heart. “Okay, but I’m still going to go home and change.”

I see the twinkle in his eye, “Can I come? I could be of assistance in getting you cleaned up and redressed.”

For once, I don’t think about all the work; I think about how much I love him and how badly I want him. “Yes, only if you promise to shower with me?” I wink, and he smiles, so devilish I can practically hear his filthy thoughts.

Turns out, today might just be my most productive day on the ranch, yet.

Chapter 36

Willow

Weston’s truck comes to a stop outside the bonfire. There’s already people huddled in a circle around the fire. It glows a soft orange with little flickers of embers, popping every so often. For the first time, I’m no longer feeling nervous. I don’t care what people say because I’m freaking happy for the first time in years.

For the most part, it’ll just be our close circle of friends here, but I know a few people from town will be stopping by, too. It’ll be nice getting to catch up with more people. I saw a few at the fair but was a little bit distracted by Weston.

“Willow, it’s so good to see you!” Ava walks up, and somehow her bump is even bigger than the last time I saw her a few days ago at dinner. “Come sit and hang out with the girls for a little bit.” She loops her arm through mine and starts pulling me away.

I look over my shoulder back at Weston. He’s grinning as he waves at me as I go and sit with Ava and Aspen.

“Okay, so I’m going to need neither of you bitches to judge me when I am downing ten of these s’mores,” Ava says as she sticks a marshmallow onto a skewer and puts it over the fire.

“Girl, I can’t judge you if I’m right there with you,” Aspen says as she follows her motion, shoving a marshmallow over the fire until it’s basically a sugar flame.

“Was your goal to have charbroiled marshmallows for dessert?” I ask Aspen as she pulls her marshmallow, which is now completely engulfed in flames, out of the fire and blows quick, rapid breaths at it, trying to stop it from burning too much.

“As a matter of fact, it was. And here I was gonna offer to make you a s’more,” Aspen says as she flops her marshmallow on the graham cracker, shoving a piece of chocolate on top and then encompassing it in another graham cracker. She shoves half of it in her mouth and moans.

Ava and I both laugh as marshmallow streaks and drips down the corner of her mouth.

“What are you laughing at?” Aspen says through a mouthful of graham cracker and sugary delightness.

Ava turns toward me. “I don’t know why I was worried about you guys judging me when we’re eating with someone who’s clearly never had a s’more before.” She hikes her thumb over to Aspen, who wipes the corners of her mouth through giggles.

I make my own s’more, sans flaming marshmallow, unlike Aspen.

Ava and I take turns poking fun at Aspen, and I don’t think I remember the last time I laughed this hard. I don’t even remember the last time I had friends like this. Where I didn’t have to worry about putting on a show. Where they love me just how I am. Marshmallow-covered face and all.

“I was thinking before the baby comes that we need to have one last girls’ night,” Ava says.

“What kind of girls tonight are we talking about?” I ask skeptically, not that I wouldn’t go, but when Aspen is involved, things can go off the rails.

“I was thinking we should have a sleepover. We can do it at my place. Mav can go and snuggle Weston like old times.” She elbows me, and I laugh with her.

“That’s a good idea. We can’t have their bromance sizzling out now that they’re coupled up,” Aspen says.

“I’m thinking girly movies that our boys complain about watching, enough sugar to send us a diabetic shock, and stretchy pants only.”

Honestly, this sounds heavenly. Especially the stretchy pants part. “I’m in. What do you need me to bring?” I can’t tell you the last time I had a sleepover. It was probably in this very town. I didn’t have a lot of great friends in college. Mostly study buddies, but genuine female friend friendships, forget about it. Not because there was an option, but because I don’t think I was in the headspace to let anyone in.

“I don’t know, I’ll get back to you on that. We could all run into town together and go to the grocery store and pick up everything we need, and then go to the house when we do it?”

“I think we should take the town in our pajamas. It might mortify the guys, but it’s totally worth it,” Aspen says.

“I’m pretty sure those boys have been doing dumber shit around town than going to buy groceries in their pajamas,” I chime in. “In fact, I have a vivid memory of Maverick daring Weston to run butt naked down Main Street when we were sixteen.”

Aspen throws her head back with laughter, her hand going to her chest as tears start to leak out of her eyes. “Oh my God, I forgot about that. Mom grounded them both for two weeks.”

“Oh, I remember, Weston had to sneak out of his window to come see me. Each time, he had a new bruise and a scrape from the old frames on the windows.” I’m laughing now, too, remembering it all.