As Sloane walks up the hill, she spots me at the top, waiting for her with another mug in my hand. She smiles lovingly at me, and damn it, I’m at a loss for how I got so lucky.
For months, we’ve fallen into this comfortable groove where I head out to the ranch to work with the hands,and she checks the books, makes orders when needed, then goes off to do her consulting work for the day.
We meet back later in the evening, cook together, eat together, and then go to bed together. It’s reached a point where we’ve gone domestic, and this is exactly how it should be. Sure, we have our little arguments, but it’s nothing like how we were when we were initially forced together.
All of it gets me wondering.
Is she ready to be my wife now?
Am I ready to call her my wife?
I carry my grandma’s ring in my pocket. I have for a few weeks now, as I ponder the idea of finally getting on one knee and asking her the most important question.
At first, it was tough to know when because of how rocky our beginning was, but as weeks turn into months, I realize the need is getting harder to ignore.
The desire to have Sloane be my wife isn’t new. I know I wanted it before I ever confessed my feelings to her.
I only prolonged it because it felt like the right thing to do, and because Sloane seemed like she wanted to wait. It wasn’t something I minded, but now it feels like the only thing that makes sense.
Uncle Sam gave me my grandma’s ring just after my aunt passed. He told me it had been passed down to him from my grandpa, and now he wanted me to have it.
At the time, I don’t think I ever believed I’d use it. I still want to keep it safe, thinking maybe one of my cousins could have it someday, but the reality is I’m the last one unmarried and single.
But now the opportunity to place it on Sloane’s finger is here, and I’m nervous as all hell. If she says no, I’m not sure what I’ll do. But if she says yes, I think I might faint.
Either way, it won’t be a pretty sight. But if she does want to marry me, then we’re one step closer to finally having it all.
We’ve talked about the future in quiet moments—about what we want, what we’re open to, and what we’re willing to grow into together. There’s no rush, no pressure, just the steady understanding that whatever comes next will be something we choose side by side.
While I’d much prefer to be married before babies, I’m aware that time is creeping up. I want to make sure we don’t miss our chance.
Sloane makes it up the rest of the hill, and I hand her the mug with creamer. She kisses me softly, then takes a sip. “You got everything you need?” I ask, and she nods.
“Yeah, Aunt May will be stopping by later to help with the side dishes,” she replies as we walk up the steps.
Ever since things calmed down, we want to bring life back to Bell River. Horizon Group put a strain on a lot of us, especially after news breaks that Fred worked under the table for them.
All of us are shaken, wondering if there are others like him, hiding behind greed and the promise of a large payout. Trust shook our community, but when no one else was named in the settlements and lawsuits, the town starts feeling less suffocated.
It’s Sloane’s idea to bring everyone together and do a BBQ. She talks about how excited everyone was during the Annual Barn Party, and how she wants to bring that same energy to the BBQ.
I admire the fact that she’s trying, especially when she isn’t from around here. Despite that, she’s made a name for herself and helped so many people since moving here permanently.
We walk up the steps, and she stops and turns to me. “You’re still okay with us doing this, right?” she asks, checking in on me like she always does.
It’s no secret that I don’t do well in social settings, but this means a lot to her, and I’m willing to put my feelingsaside to make her happy. Not to mention, I know I can always turn to her if I feel too out of place.
“You’ve asked me a dozen times, little miss,” I reply, tugging her close with my free hand. She sighs contentedly as I pepper her neck with gentle kisses.
“I know, but I just want to be sure. Last thing I want is for you to be uncomfortable,” she says, and I end the conversation with a kiss to her lips.
“I will never get comfortable if I’m not uncomfortable first,” I reply as she stares at me thoughtfully.
“That’s a good life lesson.”
Yeah, I thought so too.
As expected, I’m not comfortable when everyone arrives with their own food and cheerful faces. It’s been a while since we’ve had so many people from Bell River at the ranch, but I know Sloane is right when she says we need to rebuild morale in the town.
