Christian was still watching Tom when Jason set a plate of eggs in front of him. Colby passed him a fork.
Christian accepted the fork, not looking away from Tom. “Beats egg-flavored rubber,” he said. “Thanks.”
Colby blinked, but gave a small, genuine smile before digging back into his breakfast.
The kitchen was full now—silverware scraping on plates, laughter rising and falling, new rhythms sliding in among old ones. Dave caught Christian’s gaze across the table, and the look they shared held a quiet understanding.
They were home.
Chapter Thirty-four
CHRISTIAN
The wood of the top rail was warm beneath his forearms, sun-soaked and smooth. Beyond it, Diablo wandered around, flicking his ears, his coat shining like black satin. He looked good. Whatever Tristan had done while they were away, it had worked.
Christian let out a breath and reached into the pocket of his jeans.
The velvet box felt too small for how much it held. He cracked the box open and looked at the rings again. They were nestled side by side like they knew where they belonged.
He could feel the speech he didn’t know how to make clogging his throat, his fingers sweating around the box. He’d fuck it up, he wouldn’t say enough. He wouldn’t say what Davewanted—that was what was panicking him. That he couldn’t give Daveas much as he deserved.
Because for a long time, hehadn’t, not in the ways Dave needed most. Dave had loved him anyway, not because he was easy to love, but because he wasworthloving. Dave had been very clear about that up on that ledge, even if Christian was still grappling with it.
He took another breath and forced himself to calm. Dave didn’t need perfection or a speech. He just needed Christian to keep showing up. To keep trying.
Christian glanced sideways at Diablo. “You think he’s gonna say yes?”
The horse snorted, as if that was the most ridiculous question ever asked, before coming over to Christian.
Christian huffed a laugh. “He might be a bit pickier than you.”
He closed the box gently, sliding it back into his pocket and trying to slow his heartbeat. It was ridiculous how nervous he felt, like he was back in the cage, adrenaline spiking before the horn. Only this wasn’t a fight. It was the opposite. This was peace, and promise.
Footsteps sounded behind him, soft on the dry dirt. He didn’t turn right away.
“I was gonna do this better,” he muttered to Diablo, who nosed his shoulder like he gave a damn.
Then he felt the other presence close by, familiar and solid.
Christian turned, and Dave was there.
DAVE
The sun was warm, the air still, and the corral was empty except for Diablo, who was fussing at Christian, demanding attention that, for once, he wasn’t getting.
Christian’s shoulders were tense, one hand shoved deep in his pocket, and the other clenched in a fist as he glared at his shoes. Dave quickly ran through things that might have upset him sincebreakfast, but came up short. He’d gotten on surprisingly well with Tom, maybe because Tom hadn’t pushed anything but had been relaxed and open when Christian had paid him attention. Christian had even passed Colby a coffee at one point, so it wasn’t Colby who was the problem.
Which left… maybe he’d found a tick? But no, the entire ranch would have heard his roar for Tristan in that case.
Christian was still concentrating on the ground, breathing slowly and unevenly. Then he raised his head and looked at Dave.
“There’s probably a better way to do this,” he said, voice a little rough. “But this is the best I’ve got.”
He pulled his hand from his pocket, and when Dave saw the small black velvet box, his heart gave a strange, weightless lurch. His feet rooted to the spot.
Christian opened the box to reveal two rings, side by side, delicate bands of silver and turquoise intertwined.
“Dave,” he said, his voice little more than a croak. “Would you—” His voice faltered. “Will you—”
