Page 120 of Homebound

The words rush out of him so fast I barely catch them all. All he does is hold me, but it’s the only thing I need right now. To feel him against me.

“I’m okay,” I pant. “You’re here.”

I search the arena to see the barrel men leading a kicking Diablo back into the chutes by the rope and release a heavy breath, but a second later, I scan the scoreboard for my score.

The judges award a score of up to twenty-five points each for the rider’s performance, and up to twenty-five points each for the bull’s effort for a total score of one hundred, and when I see the 95.25 score next to my name, I scream in excitement.

“You did it!” Wyatt shouts, matching my enthusiasm. “Holy shit, that’s one hell of a score. I’m so glad the scout was here to watch you.”

The adrenaline, the relief, the pure-fucking-joy, it all barrels into me at once, but it’s nothing compared to what I’m feeling for Wyatt. It’s crazy to think that I’ve been chasing success for so long, only to realize it never really mattered without having the right people in my life. I lift my leg, straddling his lap in front of everyone on the bleachers, but still keeping it somewhat tame.

His brows shoot up.

Someone whistles.

“You, Wyatt Patterson, are my absolute favorite person in the world,” I say heatedly, cradling his scruffy cheeks. “And Vienna. Her too. You make me feel like I’m breathing, and you make me look at the bright side of things. I’m not great with words, so I’ll probably think of an amazing love declaration next week when I’m in the shower, hopefully with you, but I just need you to know that I don’t ever want to live in a world without you because I’m so damn in love with you and our little girl.”

A look of complete awe lights up his face, but I kiss him, hard and demanding. The cheers of the crowd fade until it’s just me and him. The fame, glory, recognition—I’ll take a proud kiss from the man I love over their praise any day. My people are more important than any scout, any world championship, or any fleeting moment of glory.

I can feel every eye in the arena on us, which only has me kissing him harder. I want everyone in this little ol’ town to know this sweet, kind, loyal, sexy man is mine.

And his daughter—she’s mine too.

All mine.

Everyone in the crowd starts hooting and hollering. He meets my kiss stroke for stroke, and it’s messy and sloppy and so fucking perfect that I never want to stop. Maybe we shouldn’t be making out like teenagers in front of everyone, but my man makes me feel young and reckless.

With a raw moan, he pulls back first. “Careful, there. Keep kissing me like that and these jeans aren’t gonna fit anymore.”

“I can’t help that I get carried away with you,” I say, our noses bumping. “You’re mine, Wyatt Patterson. You and Vi. You’re my whole world.”

I really did get lucky, stumbling upon the love of my life at such a young age. He’s my happy beginning and ending. We might have one of the best love stories of all time, but I think about everyone else falling in love across the world, yearning, hoping, finding their happy ending, and that might be the most beautiful thing—that everyone thinks their own love story is the happiest of all.

He tugs me closer, catching my bottom lip with his teeth. “It’s about time you realized that, ’cause honey, I’ve been yours since the day you pulled me out of that creek.”

ONE YEAR LATER

WYATT

Ican’t stop sweating.

It’s been six months since I moved back home to Granite Falls, so this September heat has nothing on my nerves. These damn nerves that won’t go away because I’m proposing to the woman of my dreams tonight.

The General is bursting with people, beers in hand, laughing, nodding their heads to the twang of country music, and as I look through the haze, happiness slams into me. I can’t believe I managed to make my way back down south.

I didn’t expect my heart to heal this much coming back home, but I hoped, and I’ve never been more grateful for being a glass-half-full man.

This heart of mine is no longer black and blue, it’s as healthy as they come.

But Dakota and I have had to work hard for that. This past year hasn’t been easy for us. It’s been a whirlwind of plane rides, late-night FaceTime calls, and figuring out how to navigate our long-distance lives. But we made it work because when something’s worth it, I’ll always make it work.

I glance at Dakota, getting tugged and hugged by everyone in this town, shouting Congrats! and You did it! in her face. The Granite Falls baker even made her a peach-crisp with PBR Bound spelled out in Fredericksburg peach slices.

She deserves all their praise for making the Austin Rattlers team—and then some.

“You did it! I always knew you would!” Alanna shouts, wrapping Dakota up into such a tight hug, I’m worried she’ll crack her ribs. “I knew you could do it, babe, but watching you ride is intense. I don’t know how I’m gonna watch you compete in the PBR every day. I’ll have to borrow grungy Willie’s bandana to shield my eyes.”

She yells grungy Willie loud enough for the man in question to give her the finger while jerking a cocktail shaker. Willie is working triple-time making cocktails since it seems like the entire town squeezed into The General to celebrate Dakota getting drafted into the PBR. Even Boone came. He’s sulking in a corner, but he’s not a threat to me now that I’ve got the girl.