I lie down on Tucker’s bed and pull a knitted throw over me.
The scent on the pillow reminds me of Tucker, but something else too. Something unfamiliar.
I choke on a sob and before I can stop myself I’m caught up in a full-blown cryfest.
This is stupid. I’m stronger than this.
I’m here because I love him. He’s worth the risk. He’s everything I ever wanted.
I bury my head in the pillow. Nothing wrong with a quick nap. I can regroup after. Figure out a plan.
CHAPTER THREE
Tucker
Every time wefinish repairing one broken section, we hear about another. This better be the last one. I’m coated with mud and soaked to the bone, but this isn’t what’s got me fit to be tied.
My fiancé– whom I haven’t seen in four weeks– is flyin’ in today– and I’m not there to meet her.
She’s coming to Colorado, giving up her life in California to come live with me, to marry me. And I can’t even make it to the damned airport.
At least, as a novelist, she doesn’t have to give up her job.
But moving out here. It’s a big deal. I wanted everything to be perfect.
So much for my plans.
Instead of greeting her properly at the airport, I’m stuck out here in the rain, knee deep in cactus and sludge, putting this damn ranch back together. Because, no, when Mother Nature finally decides to grace us with some moisture, we don’t just get a few sprinkles, we get a frog strangler!
“You about done over there?” Irritation laces my voice as I grouse at my brother Colt. He’s barely two years younger but the way he messes around, sometimes I’d swear it was ten times that. All day, he’s been crackin’ jokes about Isabella bailing on the whole thing before she even sees me, jilting me.
Like it’s so fucking funny that Jessamine is picking her up instead of me.
I love my family. They’ve always been there for me. They supported me when I married Lenora, when each of the boys came into the world, and God knows I couldn’t have made it without their support after Lenora’s death.
But they don’t seem to understand how much Isabella means to me. I’m not some wet-behind-the-ears kid. I wouldn’t have proposed unless she was the one.
Isabella’s the real deal. She’s everything to me. No way in hell am I letting her get away. The scary thing is, I felt this way the moment I met her at my college buddy’s destination wedding in St. Thomas.
I nearly didn’t go but Colt insisted he and Levi could handle things back here for one week. Damned near impossible to get off the ranch for more than a day at a time.
But I went. And thank god I did. Meeting her there was almost enough to make me believe in fate.
She was the maid of honor, and I was the best man. Yeah, corny as shit, I know.
But I’ll never forget the moment I first laid eyes on her.
Standing on the beach barefoot, blond hair swirling in the wind, a fruity drink in her hand. The dress she wore wasn’t much more than a tropical colored piece of fabric knotted above her breasts.
And she was laughing.
Laughing because the wind was creating havoc with the entire party. Table cloths were blowing away, the festive lanterns were swinging wildly, and she could barely keep her dress down to cover herself properly.
Other guests were unhappy with the chaos, irritated by the inconvenience of a few gusts of wind. A few of them ran inside.
But this gal. This woman.
Taking hold of her skirt, she happily chased the large floppy hat that had lifted off the bride’s head.
