I couldn’t see him clearly through my tears anymore. They fell unbidden; it was like trying to hold back a waterfall. I didn’t have words to adequately explain how fiercely proud I was of him. Of all of this self-reflection he’d gone through in just a few hours, and the strength and courage he possessed.
A broken sob escaped me.
Hux’s voice was a soft rumble, but I heard the hint of worry in it. “Well, what do ya think?”
I sniffled, wiping my tears and leaning forward to kiss him softly. “I think that your idea is brilliant and beautiful, and I am…so, so incredibly proud of you. I think that regardless of if my dad ends up wanting to sell the ranch, you should pitch this idea to him. And if he doesn’t bite, then hell, I’ll help you find another ranch. You deserve that dream.”
“We, darlin’.” He pulled me into his lap so that I straddled him. One of his hands danced paths up and down my spine while the other cupped the side of my face, his thumb wiping at the tear stains left behind. “I can’t do this without you, Quinn.”
If I had even a shred of doubt that soulmates were real, it would be gone now. Turned to dust or ash fluttering away on the wind. How was he so perfect and kind and reassuring?
And even though I wanted everything he said, even though I couldn’t imagine my life without him despite the small amount of time I knew him, a trickle of worry filled me. What if he got tired of me? Would he always feel this way?
I looked at him. Really looked at him. The earnest set of his mouth, the warmth and desire written into the brutally handsome curves and lines of his face. But the look in his eyes—the determination, the need, thelovein his whiskey-colored gaze erased any lingering doubt.
“You sure you want me to be a part of it?” I asked, even though I knew the answer. But I needed to hear him say it.
“I’m positive, Quinn.”
My heart just about exploded in my chest. I kissed him—slow and soft, but no less intense—before resting my forehead against his. “Good. Because I want to be part of it. Wherever you go, I’ll go. They can say we’re crazy, they can think whatever the hell they want, but what we have…it’s different. It’s special. And it’s real. I… I love you, Huxson Lane.”
Chapter thirty-nine
Closest to Heaven
Hux
"Ilove you, HuxsonLane.”
My chest swelled at the admission, knocking the air from my lungs so thoroughly, it took me a minute to catch my breath. How the hell had I lucked out with her? I might have been dealt my fair share of shitty hands in the past, but meeting Quinn, loving her…and having her love me back was like having a royal flush.
And her admission. Well, damn. If I could drive, I’d already be finding a pastor, preacher, or wedding chapel to marry her right now before she changed her mind.
I slid a hand up along the curve of her neck and into her hair, knotting my fingers in her silky tresses. “Well, hold on now. Maybe I was a bit too hasty about changin’ the wedding into acharity event. I’ll marry you next weekend, darlin’. You just say the word.”
Quinn’s laughter was the most beautiful melody. A song made specifically for me. One I could—and planned—to listen to for the rest of my life. “You know, I would’ve totally entertained that notion had I planned it for anyone esle beside fucking Georgette.”
I couldn’t help but laugh at the venom in her voice. Angry Quinn reminded me of a kitten—but I’d learned she had claws and could use them when she needed. Thankfully, Georgette—the bitch—was out of the picture. But then the weight of Quinn’s gaze struck me. “You’d really get married next weekend?” I asked.
“Possibly. But the event I planned for her was too obnoxious. Too grandiose. I don’t want a big wedding.”
“But you’re an event planner. Don’t you—”
She huffed. “That’s exactly why I don’t. I see all the drama and stress included in planning a wedding of that size.” The familiar pressure of her hands on my chest seared straight through the fabric and down to my very soul. “At the end of the day, when we get married, I just want it to be you, me, a small group of our close friends and family in a pretty open field—actually…” she paused. I could feel her body turning this way and that, like she was looking for something. When she spoke, her voice rang with a note of excitement. “I want to get married right in this field.”
I chuckled, a rush going through me at her eagerness. Because her words conjured images in my head that made my heart pound in my chest like a stampede of wild mustangs.
I knew most would think us silly and stupid. They’d call it puppy love. They’d call it infatuation or an obsession or some other bullshit like that.
But I didn’t care.
They didn’t feel the rush I felt when she spoke, the peace that overcame me when I smelled her lemongrass and vanilla scent. They’d never know how her touch stoked the flames of my desire, or how her presence was a balm to my broken and battered soul.
I’d told her before, if she was crazy, I was crazy. We could be crazy in love together. And to hell with the rest.
I tugged her toward me so that our lips brushed as I spoke. “Let me get you a ring first, darlin’. I promise I won’t make you wait long.”
I reveled in the feel of her hands sliding through my hair as she pulled herself closer to me, as if she needed the contact as much as I did. “I’m gonna hold you to that promise, cowboy,” she murmured softly before dragging her mouth to mine.
