“Enya,” His voice broke, his fingers dug into her hips as he buried his face in her neck, his breath hot against her skin. “Fuck,baby?—”
She could feel him losing control, his thrusts growing harder, more erratic, and she tightened around him, her nails raking down his back as she tipped over the edge again, her body clenching around him as she came with a cry. Rowan followed her a second later, his body going rigid above hers, a guttural sound tearing from his throat as he spilled inside her, his hips stuttering against hers. For a long moment, neither of them moved. Their breath came in ragged gasps, their skin was slick with sweat, but all that mattered was how their hearts pounded in sync, their love soared, and their hearts rejoiced. Rowan’s forehead rested against hers, his eyes closed, his lashes dark against his cheeks. She could feel the way his heart raced, the way his body still trembled with the aftershocks of his release, and she reached up, her fingers brushing through his hair, her touch gentle.
He exhaled shakily, pressing a kiss to her shoulder, his lips lingering there. “I’ve spent most of my life searching for wings to fly,” his voice rough with emotion. “But now I know, I should have been searching for roots to plant deep into the fabric of a love I never knew could exist, until you.”
Enya smiled, her fingers tracing idle patterns on his back. How could she possibly find the words to answer such a beautiful way of describing their love? She didn’t need to answer. He already knew.
He rolled them over, settling her on top of him. She leaned up and pressed a kiss to his jaw, before lowering her head to his chest with a happy sigh. “Heaven. This has to be what heaven is like.”
“Enya.”
“Hmm.”
“Don’t fall asleep yet.”
WHAT?
He just gave me two freaking orgasms and now expects me not to fall asleep.
Has he gone daft?
“Rowe—”
“Marry me?—”
“I’m not sure I’m abl—wait…what?” She scrambled off his chest, and Rowan rolled to one side to pull open the drawer of the bedside table. When he came back to her, he held a small box in his hand.
“The Stronghold was built from the ground up by my great-grandparents. This,” He flipped open the box to reveal a solitaire ring with a stunning pearl at its center, “was her ring. Marry me, build a dream here, a life, a legacy… here with me forev—oomh.”
She flung herself at him and didn’t need to let him finish, “Yes. Yes. Always Yes.”
He crushed her to his chest, his cheek on the top of her head. Thank God, because I don’t want to live in a world where I don’t have you to walk by my side.” He released her and reached for her hand to slip the ring on her finger. “I love you, Enya.”
“I love you, too, Rowan.”
As the night wrapped around them, dark and quiet and endless, she curled up next to him and knew that this—this—was exactly where she belonged…forever.
EPILOGUE
6 YEARS LATER.
There wasnothing quite like the smell of a rodeo to get her blood pumping and her heart racing. Horses, bulls, popcorn, dust, mud, and the stomping feet and cheers of the Sunday crowd all swirled into a kaleidoscope of anticipation that chewed on the edges of her nerves, ramping up the adrenaline for what was to come.
I get it now.
Jeez, how did Momma and Daddy do this for years?
Parenting a horse-mad child was not for the faint of heart, Enya decided. She leaned against the arena fence, her booted foot hooked on the bottom rail. Six years had melted away like wax under a flame when she watched her father lead his granddaughter, perched atop Rain’s broad back into the alleyway. Oaklynn’s tiny gloved hands gripped the reins with a confidence that made Enya’s chest tighten. She was all wild curls and missing front teeth, and she sat in the saddle like she’d been born to it. Which, in a way, considering who she had as parents, she had been.
She watched Oaklynn’s grin stretch wider than the Kentucky sky and tramped down the urge to pull her off Rain’s back and order a roll of bubble wrap overnight from Amazon. “You’re gonna rock it, baby,” Enya called, her voice rough as her instincts warred between pride and fear.
Oaklynn twisted in the saddle, her pink helmet askew. “Watch me, Momma. I’m gonna beat your time!”
Enya laughed. She’d run an eighteen earlier today and finished in the top three. There was little chance of Oaklynn and Rain hitting that time, especially as it would be Rain’s second run of the day around the barrels.
“Oh yeah? You remember what I told you about that first barrel?”
“Kiss it, don’t kick it!” Oaklynn shouted, pulling lightly on Rain’s reins as he pranced and tugged against the lead rope. Their best boy flicked an ear back, listening to their voices. His run earlier in the day had done little to tire him out.
