Change of Hart (Wells Ranch, #3)(74)
She slips into a fitted pair of navy trousers, and I reluctantly help clasp her bra—taking one last opportunity to kiss each breast goodbye. Then she stands in front of her vanity mirror, slowly buttoning a striped blouse.
“I can’t believe you gave me hickeys.” She scrubs a finger over a prominent purple-red mark, slightly above the cup of her bra. Based on the look in her eyes, she likes that I marked her skin up.
“Needed to make it clear exactly how much I love your tits. Something to show they belong to me, just in case.”
“In case of what?” She laughs, stealing a glance at me in the mirror between swipes of mascara. “With the exception of you, nobody is seeing me topless. If anything, I should do something to you, just in case.”
“There’s nobody else.” I gently hold her face in my hands, staring into her expansive eyes, begging her to believe me when I say it’s always been her for me. Even if I did a shitty job of showing it for the last decade. “Nobody. Else. I know I can shout that until my lungs turn blue, and you likely won’t believe me. But the second you came back into town, I couldn’t so much as look in the direction of any girls without thinking of you.”
“I want to believe you,” she mutters.
“Will it help if I get on my knees and beg for forgiveness?” I drop to my knees in front of her, and stare with the best puppy-dog eyes I can muster up.
“I’m not asking for a grown man to beg for forgiveness.” She shakes her head. “I just think we should keep working on getting to know each other again.”
“Oh, so I shouldn’t propose while I’m already down here?” I jokingly clear my throat. “Blair Hart, would you do me the honor of—”
“Denver.” She grabs me by the upper arms, tugging me to a standing position. No hiding that cute smile on her lips, though. “You’re being ridiculous. Let’s enjoy the summer, then see where we stand.”
“No, you’re right. We shouldn’t steal Aus and Filly’s thunder by getting engaged the day before their wedding.” I wink at her. “Speaking of which, are you bringing a date?”
“Why? Are you?” Her voice goes up an octave.
“Well, that would be pretty fucked up, considering I just slept in your bed and vaguely proposed marriage.” I step into Blair, feeling her relax into me when I cradle her head against my chest. “Be my date for the wedding, and we’ll take it day by day from there, if that’s what you want. Please. I’m very clearly not above begging.”
“Day by day, I can do.”
Blair
“Day by day, I can do.”
Taking it slow…I can try. Even if I’m already in so much deeper than a person should be for an “enjoy the summer, then take it from there” type of relationship.
I exhale, letting him wrap his arms around my shoulders in an embrace that eases years of pent-up tension in my muscles. He said he wants to be here, so I’m doing my best to let him.
Dad’s booming voice cuts through the air like a lightning bolt, sizzling with electricity in the morning air. I instinctively tense, letting Denver grip tighter.
“I need to go see what that was about. Wait here,” I say, attempting to pull away.
Naturally, Denver holds me back with a smile. “I’ll come with you.”
“No, Den—”
“I’m here with you, for everything.”
“It’s probably Mom. She…it hasn’t been great, truthfully.” I fiddle with the front of his shirt, scrunching the soft fabric between my fingers and refusing to meet his eye. “Sometimes she’s really depressed and doesn’t want to be around us. Other times, she’s straight-up mean—to Dad, mostly. But then we get days where the fog seems to have lifted and she’s her normal self. You got lucky with a normal day when we had dinner…but it’s not all cute little memory slipups like when she thought we were still dating, unfortunately.”
“Unfortunate about the moments not always being cute, or unfortunate that she was wrong about us dating?” He runs his thumb over my bottom lip. “Because I know a way to solve the second one.”
I acknowledge his comment with a tighter hug. “I don’t want you to walk out there unprepared. I’m guessing it’s a mean day.”
He kisses my forehead softly. “We can sneak out your window and grab a cinnamon roll at Anette’s for breakfast.”
Seriously tempting. Except I’ll need to be a mediator if Mom’s in the mood to fight with Dad. My shoulders sag, and I glance over at the window.
“Or—and hear me out before you say no—I’ll suss out the situation in the kitchen while you pack a bag of clothes.” He puts a hand up to stop me from saying anything. “Assuming things are good, we leave and go to Anette’s. I can wait around while you see your patients. Colt’s grabbing Jonas again, so you don’t have to—speaking of which, I lined up some work for him on the ranch this summer, so he’s out of Whit’s hair and one less thing for you to worry about all the time.”
“You did?”
“You can’t be babysitting a ten-year-old on top of everything else. Plus, we can always use free labor to muck stalls and shovel shit. Win, win.”