"No," Lily says, standing up with Rosie still clinging to her. "Mason caught me before I hit the ground. I'm fine. Just shaken up."
Tucker's gaze shifts between Lily and me, and I can see him putting the pieces together. The way we're standing too close. The way her cheeks are flushed and my breathing is still uneven. The way we can't quite stop looking at each other even with him and the kids standing right there.
A knowing smile tugs at Tucker's lips. "Well, that's good timing then. Emma and Rosie were getting hungry, and I promised them lunch. Thought maybe you two might want to join us at the main house? Meet the rest of the guys?"
Meeting the rest of the guys. My brothers. Who will absolutely give me shit about bringing a woman to the ranch, about the way I'm looking at Lily, about everything.
But Lily needs to meet them anyway if she's staying here. Needs to know the people who'll be part of her life if she accepts the job at the saloon, if she sticks around Blackwater Falls, if we actually go on that date she just agreed to.
"What do you think?" I ask Lily, giving her the choice. Always giving her the choice. "You up for meeting three more idiots like me?"
She glances at Rosie, who's already chattering with Emma about horses and flowers and whatever else seven-year-olds and two-year-olds talk about. Then she looks back at me, and something soft and warm fills her expression.
"Sure," she says. "Let's meet your family."
My family. She called them my family. Because that's what they are. Wade, Tucker, Rhett, Boone, Colt, they're my brothers in every way that matters. The family Frank built for us when we had nothing else. And now I'm bringing Lily into that. Bringing her and Rosie into the fold, hoping like hell they'll accept her the way they accepted Sierra, the way they accepted Marley, the way they accepted Nicole and Harper.
"Fair warning," I tell her as we start walking toward the main house, Tucker and the girls already ahead of us. "They're going to ask a lot of questions. Probably tease me mercilessly. Definitely make jokes at my expense."
"I can handle it." Lily's walking close enough that our arms brush with each step. "I've dealt with worse than some good-natured teasing."
I smile and catch Daisy's lead rope on the way past and guide her toward the barn. Can't leave her in the corral unsupervised, not after what just happened. Lily walks beside me, and despite everything that just occurred—the near-accident, the confession, the agreement to date—the silence between us is comfortable.
Natural, even. Like we've known each other longer than twenty-four hours. Like she belongs here, walking beside me through the ranch that's been my home for over two decades.
"Mason?" Her voice is soft.
"Yeah?"
"Thank you." She looks up at me. "For all of this. The cottage, the breakfast, the riding lesson, the honesty about your past. For catching me. For asking me out. For everything."
I want to tell her she doesn't need to thank me. I want to say I'd do all of it again without hesitation. Want to explain that she's already become important to me in a way I don't fully understand yet. But Tucker and the girls are waiting at the main house porch, and I can see Boone emerging from one of the other cottages, probably drawn by the commotion. This conversation will have to wait.
"You're welcome," I say simply. Then, because I can't help myself: "And for the record? I'm really glad you said yes."
Her smile could light up the entire ranch. "Me too."
Chapter 9 - Lily
I'm beyond happy, but I can't let myself fully sink into it.
I have a daughter. I can't just dive headfirst into this, can't let myself get swept up in the fantasy of a handsome cowboy who saves me from falling and asks me on dates. I need to protect myself. More importantly, I need to protect Rosie. She's been through enough upheaval in her short life—constantly moving, sleeping in cars, never having stability. The last thing she needs is me getting involved with a man who might not stick around, who might turn out to be just another disappointment.
I need to take things slower. Need to keep my head on straight even when Mason's looking at me like I'm something precious, even when his arms around me felt like the safest place I've ever been.
But right now, walking toward that main house with Rosie's hand in mine and Mason beside me, this feels like a fever dream. Like something out of a storybook. Saved by a handsome man who falls for me quickly, who offers shelter and help and wants to take me on dates.
That only happens in princess stories, and I'm far from a princess.
I'm a broke single mom with stretch marks, too much curves and a used Honda that barely runs. I'm the woman men fuck but don't date, the one they proposition in bars but never introduce to their families. I'm not the heroine of any story worth telling.
But Mason's hand brushes mine as we walk, and Rosie's laughing with Emma ahead of us, and for just a moment I let myself pretend this could be real.
The main house is bigger than I expected. Two stories of weathered wood and stone, with a wraparound porch that's seen decades of Montana weather. It looks lived-in, loved, the kind of place where people actually make memories instead of just existing.
Tucker holds the door open, and we step inside to organized chaos.
The kitchen is massive, clearly the heart of the home. A huge wooden table dominates the center, scarred and worn from years of use. The counters are cluttered with the debris of men living together: coffee mugs, random tools, a stack of mail nobody's sorted yet. But it's clean underneath the mess.
