It takes a while to go around both tables. Ryder puts a hand on my thigh as we listen to our families sharing the randomest, funniest shit about their days.
Like who knew that Sally snuck out of work early to get her second tattoo? And how did Tate end up covered in dog vomit before six a.m.?
I laugh so hard my sides hurt. When it’s my turn, I share that my thorn was my computer crashing earlier.
“My rose?” I smile hard. “I’ve been cleared by my doctor to race again.”
Hoots and hollers. Even Mom and Dad congratulate me and say they’ll be sitting front row for my next rodeo.
“Because it won’t be your first rodeo, hopefully you’ll stay on the horse,” Tate says with a wink, and I have to resist the very strong urge not to reach across the table and smack him.
We clean up dinner while the kids inhale their dessert. Then the boys go build a fire in the living room’s massive fireplace, and Ryder invites everyone to sit on the sofas in front of it.
Then he pulls out his guitar.
“Oh God.” Cash makes a face. “Please tell me you’re not going to serenade us with Dave Matthews songs.”
Ryder ducks under the guitar strap I got him—it’s embroidered with his name—and grins, taking a seat on the hearth. “No. I’m going to serenade y’all withyourfavorite songs. Billie, do you mind accompanying me?”
“Not one bit.”
He plays Brooks & Dunn for Mollie and Cash.
Shania Twain for Sally and Wyatt.
Johnny Cash for Ava and Sawyer.
Salt-N-Pepa for Duke and Wheeler.
Finally, he plays Taylor Swift for him and me.
The kids dance the whole time, giggling and twirling and falling on the rug in front of the fire.
“Dang.” Cash’s eyes are wide. “Y’all are good.”
Ryder scoffs. “Don’t sound so surprised.”
“You’re welcome to come up on stage anytime with Frisky Whiskey,” Patsy says.
Wyatt and Sally start to shamelessly make out. Ava falls asleep on Sawyer’s shoulder. My brothers bug us with a zillion song requests.
It’s late by the time we pack it up to head home.
I wrap Patsy, John B, Cash, and Mollie in tight hugs.
“Thank y’all for having us. This was a dream.”
Mollie holds my hands. “Thisisthe dream. We get to keep living it.”
“We do, don’t we?” I glance up at Ryder.
“Yeah, baby, we do.” He leans in and lowers his voice. “Speaking of dreams—since ours started with a little mouth-to-mouth, can we keep living that dream too?”
Laughing, I nod. “Need to keep those lifesaving skills sharp since I’m gonna be racing again.”
“Just doing the Lord’s work.”
“Wonderful. But would you do me now, pretty please?”
