I nod, my thumb slowly moving to trace her lower lip.“I went yesterday to pick up a few things.Wanted to be prepared.”
I also knew she’d be a nervous wreck, and I didn’t want her to worry so much while he was with me.I’ll wrap the kid in bubble wrap so long as she has a little peace of mind.I doubt Dylan would appreciate that, though.
She lifts her hands and her fingers circle my wrists, her gaze boring into mine.“That was nice of you.”
I shrug.“What can I say?I’m a nice guy.”
She rolls her eyes and pulls my hands away from her face.“I’ve gotta go or I’ll be late.I should be back by twelve.”
“We’ll be here.”
Pulling her lower lip between her teeth, she nods.“Okay.Well, then I’m just going to go say goodbye to Dylan and be on my way.”
I shove my hands into my pockets.“Have at it.”
She walks toward the paddock, her hips swaying seductively.When she reaches Dylan, he barely pays her any mind as she ruffles his hair and presses a kiss to his forehead.
The sight makes my chest ache.
Something shifts inside me—a feeling I’ve never experienced before.It’s like the ground beneath my feet has suddenly become solid.
They belong here.Both of them.
I can see Dylan growing up on this ranch, learning to ride, helping with chores, becoming the kind of man who understands hard work and responsibility.
And Amelia...Christ, she fits here too.I can picture her in my kitchen in the mornings, sunlight streaming through the windows as she works on her soaps.That little business of hers could really take off with the right support.We could build her a workshop, maybe even set up a farm stand near the entrance to the property where she could sell her products to locals.
The image solidifies in my mind—the three of us having breakfast together before Dylan catches the bus for school, Amelia and I stealing kisses when he’s not looking.Weekends spent riding, fixing fences, learning the rhythms of the land.
Maybe even adding more kids someday.A little girl with Amelia’s eyes and my stubbornness.Another boy.He’d follow his older brother all over this land.
This ranch has been in my family for generations, but it’s never felt more like a home than when I imagine them being part of it.
Amelia walks back toward me, the worry still etched on her face, though it’s softened a bit.
“Please make sure my kid doesn’t break a leg or anything.”
“He’ll be fine,” I tell her as she approaches.“I promise.”
“I know.”She glances back at her son briefly before she sighs and brings her eyes back to me.“I should get going.”
“Knock ‘em dead at the market.We’ll be here when you get back.”
She stares at me for a beat, then nods before making her way to the car.When she finally drives away, I turn toward the paddock where Dylan’s waiting.
“Ready to meet Bluebell properly?”I call out, heading his way.
“This cornbread is awesome,” Dylan says between mouthfuls, his legs swinging beneath the porch swing.“Way better than the stuff Mom buys at the store.”
I chuckle, taking a long sip of sweet tea.“It’s a dupe of an old family recipe.My grandmother was the queen of cornbread, and my Granddaddy was obsessed with hers.After she died, he begged our cook, Judy, to recreate the recipe.She’s gotten close over the years, but it still tastes like something is missing.”
“Taste pretty good to me.Maybe the thing that’s missing is your grandma being the one who makes it.”
I raise an eyebrow.“That’s some pretty wise stuff, kid.I think you might just be right.”
“What can I say?I’m a pretty smart kid.”
He pops another piece of cornbread into his mouth, and a laugh escapes me.Not only is Dylan smart, but he’s funny too, and he did amazingly with his first lesson.The kid’s got an instinct for it, knows how to communicate with the horse without speaking a word.It’s something you can’t teach.You either have it or you don’t, and Dylan has it.
