The True Cowboy of Sunset Ridge (Gold Valley #14)(59)

This is reality, she told herself. And that realization made her heart lurch in her chest. This was reality. This moment. With him. The intensity with which he wanted her. When it had been a one-night stand, it had been something outside of reality. Something outside of the moment. But now it wasn’t. Now she was acknowledging that this was real. That it was not separate from life, but part of it. And that made her feel empowered. It made her feel strong. But it also made her feel afraid. Because it made this feel like something she could have... Maybe something she could have for keeps.

She blinked furiously, trying to banish the tears that were building in her eyes.

There was no point getting attached to the man.

Just like there was no point getting attached to Lily.

You’re attached to yourself. And that’s a good thing. That’s what matters.

Yeah. She would tell herself that. Over and over again. And it would have to be enough.

She would have to keep believing she was enough.



CHAPTER THIRTEEN


WHEN HE WOKE UP, Lily was crying. And he was still wrapped around Mallory.

Wow.

He had gone and spectacularly blown up his intentions with her. He hadn’t stuck to any kind of plan as far as she was concerned. And he... Wasn’t all that regretful about it. He really wasn’t. Because that had blown his mind. Because that had made him feel alive. And if he couldn’t feel happy about being alive, at least he could feel something other than dead.

He was naked, and he rolled out of bed quickly and found a pair of athletic shorts, pulling them on and walking downstairs where Lily was, still asleep in the cradle. He saw to her diaper and her bottle, but she was still fractious, and he tried rocking her gently, but didn’t make any progress. And then his eyes fell to the guitar in the corner of the room.

And something stirred inside him that he hadn’t felt... Well, he’d felt it the first time he’d seen Mallory. He recognized it now for what it was.

The beginning of a melody. A vibration that seemed to exist in the deepest parts of himself begging to be let loose. For a melody to be formed, so that a feeling could become something real. Something you could hum and sing.

He hadn’t realized it, but it was there. From the moment he’d met her, and growing stronger now, stronger as he looked at Lily.

“Well,” he said. “Hasn’t done much for me recently, but might as well try.”

He crossed the room, and for the first time in months, he picked up the guitar.

MALLORY STRUGGLED TO wake up. She heard Lily crying, but it had felt like half a dream, and when she finally did pull herself fully into wakefulness, Lily wasn’t crying. But she could hear music coming through the baby monitor. A pleasant-sounding singing voice and a guitar, familiar in some ways, but also something she hadn’t heard before. She wiped her eyes and went downstairs. And she stopped, her foot held on the last step. And everything became clear. It was cold. She looked around the corner, and she saw him, sitting on the edge of the couch, facing the cradle where Lily was. He was quietly strumming the guitar, and he was singing.

And suddenly, she realized she still didn’t know this man. This man who was so taciturn, but who played beautiful music. Who carved creatures into wood and didn’t think that he was supposed to be alive.

There were so many layers to him, and she had no idea how to dig down and get through them. Maybe there was no way. But there were these moments. Unguarded and beautiful, when she could see bits of the depth of him. And she had a feeling that not even he really wanted to see it. That he was in denial of all the things he was. And she could understand it in a way, because she didn’t particularly like to examine pieces of herself either.

It made her feel vulnerable. And she suddenly felt unaccountably sad that people spent so much of their lives running away from the truth of what they were because they were afraid it could hurt. Because they only had the life they got here on this earth, and whatever came after was a mystery. But living for the sole purpose of protecting yourself, of denying everything that you were, your center...

Of only having these few quiet moments in the dark, where you could sing...

Her heart clenched.

And in that moment, she forgot to guard herself. She let herself dream. She let herself imagine.

What a future with Colt might look like. And she didn’t care if she was supposed to want it. She didn’t care if she was supposed to be waiting for something. To change, to be made new. She wanted to just be here.

Now.

Standing there watching this man sing to Lily. And it might not go beyond this moment. There might be nothing after it. Lily’s mother could come back at any time, and that was something that Mallory should be rooting for. She and Colt would probably not have futures that intertwined with each other’s. But still.

But still.

In this moment, she just admired him. And he would make a wonderful father. He truly would. Her womb clenched tight just thinking of it. Oh, she could imagine having a baby with him. She could imagine being with him. Even knowing all that she didn’t know, she knew this. She knew that he thought to bring her half-and-half after just one mention of what she wanted in her coffee. She knew that he was a phenomenal lover. She knew that he would put everything on hold to see to his responsibilities. And then there was this... This tender care. It was extra to everything. It wasn’t simply about keeping the baby alive, or keeping her safe, or honoring a memory. He had uncovered a piece of himself and used it to bring Lily comfort.