“Fuck me,” he breathes, taking in this incredible property he’s built with Ray and watching the horses in the distance, frolicking in their paddock. “I don’t know how, but we did something right.”
A smile pulls at the corners of my lips, and I find myself nodding. “We sure as hell did,” I murmur as he turns to look at me, brushing his lips over mine in the sweetest kiss, lingering there for way too long, knowing Barbara’s going to have his ass for keeping her waiting.
Then, as if on cue, the front door whips open, and an angry-faced Barbara stares back at us. “It’s 6:02. What could possibly be keeping you?”
“Sorry, Barb. Got distracted.”
“By the view?” she asks, hopeful, gazing past us to the same horses we were only just looking at.
“No,” he says with a knowing smirk. “I was balls deep inside my wife.”
My jaw drops, and I suck in a loud gasp, my cheeks burning with embarrassment, though I don’t know why it bothers me. It’s not as though constant teasing isn’t a staple in this crazy little family we’ve claimed.
I kick my legs, forcing Stone to release his hold so I can slide down his back and drop to the ground, and the moment I have my balance, I step around him and swat his wide chest. “You’re such a rotten liar,” I tease. “The only thing he was balls deep in was the hole he dug himself after forgetting to close the cottage door and welcoming George, the seven-hundred-pound prized pig, right into our living room. Do you have any idea what I had to do to get that big bastard out? Not to mention, he stinks. I had to leave the window open all day to air it out. Pretty sure he sharted on the rug.”
Barbara chuckles before stepping out of the doorway and waving us in. “Hurry up and come inside,” she says. “You’re letting the mosquitoes in.”
Rolling my eyes, I hurry inside. There are no mosquitoes this time of year. They like to hang out in spring, and when they do, it’s a nightmare. I’ve never seen so many mosquitoes in my life, but for whatever reason, Barbara seems to think they’re hiding out by her front door, just waiting for a chance to sneak in.
Walking deeper into the home, we’re immediately hit by the smell of Barbara’s famous fried pork chops, and my mouth startsto water. There are a lot of meals she loves to make us sweat over, but not her chops. They’re like a wet dream in my mouth.
“Yuuuuum,” I groan, following the smell toward the dining room. “Tell me you did it with mashed potatoes.”
“Of course,” Barb chuffs. “I know what you like.”
“You’re the best—”
“The fuck is that?” Stone grunts, cutting off the boasting session I was about to drop headfirst into. I glance back at him, my brows furrowed as I follow his gaze to the living room, wondering what the hell has got him sounding so uneasy. That’s when I see Ray in the living room, hovering by an array of moving boxes.
Everything stops, and I feel my world start to crumble. “What—”
“Come on,” Barbara says, waving us through to the dining room. “Let’s sit down to eat. We have some things we’d like to talk to you both about.”
Stone moves in close to my back, his hand on my waist as we follow Barb into the dining room, taking our usual seats and finding the table overflowing with food.
“Whoa,” I say, taking it all in as Ray comes to sit down, a tightness in his eyes that has more than caught Stone’s attention. “What’s all this? Is there a special occasion I’ve missed?”
My brain scrambles through the list of dates I keep stored in there, but nothing is ringing any bells. “Alright,” Stone says. “Cut to the chase before Riley gives herself an aneurysm. What’s going on?”
Ray glances at Barbara, and they share a moment that almost seems too private to be sitting in on, but as quickly as it came, it goes, and Barb finally speaks up. “We’re getting on in age,” she tells us, her tone suggesting that little snippet of information might come as a complete surprise. “I’ll be seventy-three next month. I’m no longer a spring chicken, and getting around hasbeen getting . . . difficult. I’m struggling with the stairs. My arthritis just isn’t handling it anymore.”
“I don’t . . . I don’t understand,” I say, trying to put the pieces together as Stone reaches beneath the table and gently squeezes my thigh. “Are you selling the property?”
“Oh, no, dear,” Barbara says. “Quite the opposite.”
My face scrunches, clearly not following along, and she laughs as she takes my hand. “While we are moving, we’re not selling,” she explains. “We had a meeting with the over-fifty-five village this morning, and they’ve accepted a deposit.”
I shake my head. “No. You can’t go there. This is where you belong. You’re going to fold into the furniture and just be here forever.”
“No, Riley. We’re not. The time has come to pass the torch,” she says. “I have had many wonderful memories in this home. It has done us well. Seen us through sixty years of marriage, and now it’s your turn. We’d like to gift you the property. We don’t want to see our home go to strangers who aren’t going to care for everything we’ve built here. It’s your turn, Riley. You’re our family. We want the both of you to have many wonderful years here just as we have. Fill the room with children and laughter. Thrive on the land, and see what it can do for you.”
Stone shifts his gaze to Ray. “You’re just offering us the property?”
Ray nods. “When you first arrived, the property wasn’t worth anything, and without you, it would be run into the ground. You are what’s valuable. You are the one who has put in the work. You are the one who gave it new life. You, Stone, you are what makes this property thrive, and it wouldn’t feel right going to anyone else. It’s yours now.”
Tears well in my eyes, and I turn back to Barbara, the dam threatening to break. “You’re sure about this?”
Her gaze softens, and she smiles at me with the most brilliant warmth as she takes my hand again. “We wouldn’t have it any other way,” she tells me. “Now, that’s enough of that. We can talk details in the morning. For now, we celebrate. Fill your plates and your bellies, and then scram. Reruns ofWheel of Fortuneare coming on in an hour, and I don’t want to miss it.”
