Hitched(46)



I brush her hair from her forehead. “Well, thanks. But I’m sure there are lots of ways I could learn to be a better partner to you. To give you what you really need instead of what I think you need, you know? And…listen better and shit.”

She laughs softly. “That’s the most important part, I hear. The ‘and shit’ part.”

I grin. “Yeah, well, cut me a little slack, okay. I grew up with three brothers. I’m probably the most touchy-feely of all of us, but I’m still a dude raised with dudes. All the O’Dell boys are a touch feral.”

Her smile falls. “Speaking of feral, I have a wild cat colony from over in Milledgeville due at nine and I still have to take a shower because right now I look like the Feral Cat Queen, not the woman who’s going to turn their savage lives around.”

“You’re beautiful,” I insist.

“I’m a mess,” she says on a laugh. “But thank you for standing with me while I try to get a little less messy.”

“It’s an honor. Come on. Let’s get this sweet boy back to his home so you can get a shower.”

She looks at Chewpaca, who gazes back at her with utter adoration.

I’m the last person to believe in things like crystals and star charts, but for a second I channel my inner Olivia because I swear I see both of their auras light up with joy. Hope gives her entire self to the creatures in her care—body and soul—and in turn they love her with a trust and devotion I’ve never seen before. Not in an entire lifetime of growing up around country folk who love their pets like members of their family.

I want to make her light up like that someday, and I’m willing to do whatever it takes to make it happen.

Starting tonight, by showing her I want her to be a part of my life, even my belated bachelor party.

Especially a part of my belated bachelor party.





Eighteen





Blake





* * *



I should be working at the vineyard—removing excess bud breaks from my vines—but I don’t want to leave Hope or Chewpaca alone right now.

Thankfully, I have a trick up my sleeve.

Namely, my brother.

After a quick text, Clint shows up without question.

“Go work,” he orders me. “I’m on alpaca guard duty.”

“That’s not necessary,” Hope says, running a hand through her still damp hair. In addition to being sexy and sweet, my wife takes quite possibly the fastest showers known to female kind. Call me crazy, but I find that kind of efficiency hot.

But then, I find almost everything about her hot, lovable, or both.

“I can keep an eye on him while I work,” she adds.

Clint pulls a Marine look on her, and if it’s possible for a human body to stutter, that’s exactly what hers does.

“I mean thank you,” she says hastily. “Sir. Thank you, sir.”

“Need anything?” I ask him. “Water? Sunscreen? Some palmetto bugs to snack on?”

He turns a glare on me.

The man’s in full Devil Dog mode, and I’ve never been more grateful to have him as my brother.

“What can I help with?” I ask Hope.

She shakes her head. “After the feral cats arrive in about twenty minutes, I have a preschool group coming to visit, and a pair of miniature horses being delivered this afternoon. But Rick can help with the horses when he gets here. You have stuff you need to do at the winery. You can finally start planning opening day.”

“It can wait.”

“Really?” she presses. “You’ve already been delayed so long and I—”

“It can wait,” I insist. “Clint and I are here for the day.”

She casts a glance at Clint and pulls me a few feet away. “Can I confess that I find your brother just a teeny bit scary?” she whispers.

“Yes,” I whisper back, “but he’s on our side, and he’s only scary when he has to be. Ask him about his pet frog sometime, but not while he’s on alpaca guard duty. He doesn’t like to get emotional when he’s being all Marine-y.”

“I heard that, asshole,” Clint growls.

“That’s his pet nickname for me,” I add.

Even though she says she’s fine, and even though Clint’s on duty, I stick around the farm to help.

And I’m so glad I do. I get to watch her welcome her preschool group—a ridiculously cute assortment of small people—and lead them around the farm, telling them the stories about all the different animals, where they came from and how they contribute to the world and what everyone can do to give animals a safe place to live.

I love watching her relax and light up. And then she kneels down to hug a little girl who’s afraid to pet the dogs, assuring her that she never has to do anything she doesn’t want to do and the dogs’ feelings won’t be hurt, and my heart breaks open a little wider, letting more love inside.

She’s such a damned good person. And knows so much more about love than she gives herself credit for.

I make a mental note to tell her I think she’s an excellent lover of humans just as George makes an appearance, waddling into the pasture to take a turn on the baby goat slide before heading for the feed trough, earning himself a swift chasing-out by Chewpaca. Chewy snorts, and then emits a sharp cluck when George plops on his rump just outside the fence and chitters raccoon smack in the alpaca’s direction.

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