by Jean Oram
“Noted.”
It was a warm January evening, and they walked the few blocks to the diner. By the time they arrived, Kurt had already decided on his order and announced it as soon as they were seated in a booth.
“I do like a man who can make up his mind,” Mrs. Fisher said, after jotting it down. She focused on Brant and April, who were sitting across from each other, Kurt beside April. “Any word on where and when you’re having your honeymoon?”
Brant looked to April, who shrugged. “Still open to ideas,” he said.
“Hey, guys.” Ryan slid into the booth next to him, elbowing him farther down the bench. “Mind if I join you?”
“Looks like you already did,” Brant muttered, just before Mrs. Fisher took all their orders, then went to get their drinks.
“Uncle Ryan, how much does your dog weigh?” Kurt asked.
“Twenty-three pounds. How much do you weigh?”
“I don’t know.”
“Brant hasn’t weighed you on his cow scale? He should. It’s lots of fun.”
Eyes wide, the little boy gazed across the table. “Can you weigh me on the cow scale?”
Brant pretended to measure him with his hands. “You might be heavy enough to tip the needle.”
“It’s digital,” April said with a wry smile.
“What did I hear about a honeymoon?” Ryan interjected. “You have something planned?”
“They don’t know where they’re going,” Mrs. Fisher said with a sigh as she set down their drinks. She shook her head and propped one hand on her hip. “Are you looking to go somewhere exotic or somewhere local?”
“It’s up to April,” Brant said.
She shrugged.
“You know,” Ryan said thoughtfully, “the guy I know from working on that dating app was saying his wife’s cottage is pretty romantic. Only problem is it’s up in Canada. And it’s winter. But he said it’s remote and magical and all of that.”
April and Brant glanced at each other, and she shrugged again.
“I bet he’d lend it to you for a few days.” He lifted his hands and said, “What? I was talking about a little getaway for me and Carly. He offered up his place.” Ryan’s phone was at his ear before they could protest.
“There are a lot of nice honeymoon spots here in the state of Texas,” Mrs. Fisher said, patting her teased hair. “You don’t have to go to such expense. It’s a honeymoon. It’s not like you’re going to be seeing any sights outside your room.”
Brant choked and April blushed.
“What are you guys talking about?” Levi said, leaning over the back of the booth on April’s side. Brant hadn’t seen him come in, his cheeks rosy as though he’d been working outdoors all day.
“A honeymoon,” Mrs. Fisher said. “I’m trying to convince them they don’t need to break the bank.”
“If you’re flying somewhere, the ranch has a lot of points on its credit card right now. I’ve been using a few here and there while I try to keep up with Laura and all her business meetings for that perfume line of hers. If you pick a destination, just let me know and I’ll get you some free flights.”
“That would be great,” Brant said.
“What’s a honeymoon?” Kurt asked.
“It’s a trip newlyweds go on after the wedding.”
“Can I come?”
“Nope,” Levi said.
“There was no wedding,” Kurt said with a pout.
“There was. It just wasn’t a big one with a party,” April explained.
“Did Alexa and Polly talk to you about a date for the reception?” Mrs. Fisher said, referring to the Wylders’ cousin Alexa McTavish, and their cousin Nick’s girlfriend, Polly Morgan.
“A reception?” Brant looked at April. He’d thought that was optional.
“Couple of the Year,” Mrs. Fisher reminded him with a frown.
“Oh, right,” April said.
“Connor MacKenzie says we can use his cottage, but it’s not fully winterized.” Ryan had his over his phone. He removed it and asked Connor, “What exactly does that mean?” His nose wrinkled. “No plumbing.” He was shaking his head. “Sorry, Connor. It sounds romantic and like a great getaway.” He listened. “Helicopter?” He laughed. “No roads in. That’s pretty cool and definitely private, but maybe not quite what my brother’s looking for. Yes, maybe in the summer. Thanks anyway.”
He ended the call and said, “No running water in the winter. They’re working on winterizing Trixie Hollow, but it’s over a hundred years old and a heritage building, so it’s tough going. Maybe not your top choice for a honeymoon. Although the whole needing-to-share-body-heat-to-stay-warm might be up your alley…” He gave them a big grin.
Brant grinned back. “That’s not a bad idea.”
“Mom doesn’t like being cold,” Kurt said authoritatively, and April laughed.
“That’s true,” she said.
“So? Where do we go?” Brant asked her.
“How about something more local?”
“What’s this? A family meeting?” Myles approached the booth, hand in hand with Karen Hartley, the local librarian.
“They need a honeymoon location,” Mrs. Fisher said, still lingering. “They have a free flight anywhere, according to Levi, and they’ve already said no to a cottage in Canada with no plumbing. They need ideas.”
Myles was quiet while Karen listed off a few tropical locations.
“I’m not sure I want to be that far away,” April said, glancing toward Kurt.
“What about Blades?” Myles asked Ryan.
“Beach house!” Ryan said, pointing at him with both hands. “Yes!” He was on his phone again in a second.
“What’s this?” Brant asked.
“Maverick Blades.” Myles waited for Brant to remember. “From the NHL.”
“Blades!” Brant said. “How’s he doing?”
“Getting into trouble, by the sounds of things.”
“From when you were kids and into hockey?” April asked. “The big guy?”
“That was so cute,” Karen said. “I heard the story about you wanting to get into the NHL.” She gave Myles an affectionate smile and snuggled against him.
“He has a new beach house in Galveston,” Myles stated. “It’s amazing.” He kissed Karen, pulling her close.
“It’s available,” Ryan said, covering his phone with a hand again. “Tell him when you want it and it’s yours.”
“Next week,” Brant said decisively.
“Next week,” Ryan repeated into the phone. He gave Brant a nod.
It looked like his marriage was about to become more real with a honeymoon.
8
Brant walked the beach on Galveston Island with April. The Gulf of Mexico was cold, the breeze chilly, but it was still a gorgeous sunny January day. Maverick Blades’s beach house was incredible, with floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the water from every room on the east side. The furniture was comfortable, the fireplace grand and generous with its heat.
It was the perfect place for a three-day honeymoon, but instead of testing the various amenities, they were out walking the beach and settling into the idea of being on their honeymoon.
April picked up a shell, flipped it over, then tossed it into the water. Her pockets were clinking with shells and rocks she’d collected to bring back for Kurt. The boy had been elated to spend a few days with Maria and his uncles on the ranch. And April had been relieved to be only a short flight away—having opted to catch a flight from San Antonio to Houston rather than drive the five hours to the beach house.
“Getting hungry for supper?” Brant asked. They’d arrived around lunchtime, grabbing a sandwich in the airport before Maverick’s assistant had appeared with a car for their personal use, insisting they take it for the duration of their stay.
It paid to have friends and family.
“What do you have in mind?” April asked.
“There’s an amazing beachside restaurant a few mi
les from here. Very romantic. But after seeing Maverick’s large deck, I was thinking maybe we could order in and enjoy it on our own private patio.”
“Very romantic,” she said, bowing slightly as though impressed. She pushed strands of hair off her face. She was smiling, happy, shy.
Their honeymoon was going to change things for them, and a part of Brant wanted to rush through the next three days to see where they ended up when they came out the other side.
April picked up a sand dollar, then returned to his side.
“Do you want a ring?” he asked, sliding their bare fingers together, interlocking their hands.
She shrugged. “It would probably get lost in your line of work. You’d be taking it off all the time.”
“True. But do you want one?”
“My grandma gave me a ring years ago. I never wear it, but I like it. I could wear that.”
“Is that what you want?”
She shrugged again and brushed his bare ring finger. “If it weren’t for Old Man Lovely, how long do you think it would’ve taken us to get married?” There was an inquisitiveness in her gaze, brightening the amber flecks around her irises.
“A decade,” he replied solemnly. They stopped walking and faced each other.
“Ten years?” She laughed, looking young and free, her dimples on full display. She gave him an affectionate push. “How could that be? You’re the kind of man meant to be tied down. You’re husband material.”
Husband material. He’d heard that many times before, and he still wasn’t sure if it was a compliment.
“I wasn’t really on the market,” he grumbled. “I still don’t know how you lured me into marrying you. I’m a tough one to pin down, you know.”
“Are you kidding?” Her smile was so big he could see her molars. “You practically smoked your tires, driving so fast to that chapel.”
“Yes, but if we’d had to go through dating, an engagement and planning a wedding?” He drew out each word as though a traditional courtship with April would have been enduring a hardship. “You would’ve never got me down that aisle.”
April rolled her eyes and leaned her shoulder against his as they began walking again. She smelled of sunshine and happiness.
“Is that true?” she asked after a moment.
He stopped and pushed his fingers through her windswept hair, combing it back from her face. “It’s not.” He met her calm gaze. “I’ve had a crush on you since the day Carmichael gave you that rodeo horse of yours. You were so happy, so full of life, so confident and bold. You’ve got this quick wit and sense of humor, but also a caring, sensitive side.” He inhaled, then said on the exhale, “Irresistible.”
It had never surprised him that Cole had gotten into so many fights while dating April on the rodeo circuit. She was the kind of woman every man wanted, and was well worth fighting for.
“I don’t know if the woman you see is still here.”
“She is.” Strong, brave, determined to get what she wanted. He hadn’t suggested she leave Heath, move towns or find a job. She’d decided. She’d known there was a better life for her, and she’d been the one to summon the courage to step outside of comfort and into the unknown. “But you’re also more than that now, too.”
“If that’s a way of saying I’ve gained weight…” she grumbled, shifting from his side.
He tightened his grip. “I love your curves.” He let a hand roam from her hip to her waist to her ribs. “Sexy and dangerous.”
She gave him a patient, slightly more bashful smile.
“Truthfully, April, I didn’t quite believe you were choosing me. That’s why I sped to the chapel.” He gently stroked her cheek. “I didn’t want you to get away.”
“Were you afraid someone else might snatch me up?” she teased, looking pleased.
“Yes.”
“And are you rescuing me?” Her voice was soft and honest.
“Only your heart. The rest of that stuff you could do on your own.”
“But I can’t rescue my heart on my own?” She raised her chin, bringing her lips close to his.
“I don’t think it would be the same.” He rewarded her with a kiss that soon grew deeper, unraveling their tight grip on restraint and patience.
“I think we should go back to the beach house,” April said, taking him by the hand.
If he’d been driving, he would have smoked his tires.
April lay nestled in Brant’s arms, drowsy and contented. Their private view of the water from here in the master suite was something she never wanted to give up, never wanted to forget. Their extended weekend getaway was coming to an end tomorrow afternoon, but right now this moment was the only thing that felt real. Her job, the messy house with toys kicked underneath the couch, and even motherhood seemed distant.
Everything right here, right now, felt blissfully perfect.
She curled into Brant, sliding her left hand up his bare chest. Working with animals made him naturally strong and fit, his movements fluid and confident.
“I love being here,” she murmured.
“It was a good idea, wasn’t it?” Brant said, his voice low and rumbly. “When I’m buried up past my eyebrows in cattle because of that study, I’ll be thinking of being here.” He smiled down at her, looking tired but happy.
“We never did quite make it to the end of the beach or that restaurant, did we?”
He tightened his arms around her. “We found better things to do.” He closed his eyes again, a smile still etched on his face.
“When we get back, are you moving into my bedroom?” she asked, toying with a small sprig of chest hair between his pecs. In a quest to take things slowly, Brant had been staying on the pullout couch at April’s, but now the shift from “just friends” had been completed and there was no reason for them to sleep apart.
Originally, the idea of a honeymoon had left April skittish, her fears that they might not be compatible as anything more than friends giving her pause. But now she was glad she’d blurted out her honeymoon deal, grateful that Brant and the town had taken up the torch and made it happen.
“You know, we only made it to date night once,” Brant said.
“What’s your point?” she asked, disgruntled. She propped herself up on an elbow and tugged the sheet closer.
“Would that be rushing things?”
“We’ve just gone on a honeymoon and we’re married.” She gave him a funny look, unsure if he was teasing. “We’re not rushing things.”
“We eloped without even going out on a date,” Brant said. He quirked his lips, looking pleased. “We went on a honeymoon before we dated, too. Nope, didn’t rush a thing.”
“So? Are you going to move into my room?”
He was quiet, his eyes closed, and for a moment she thought he was drifting off. Finally he said, “Sure. Why not?”
His casual tone made her huff in disgust. “You’re awful, you know that?”
“You’re the one who married me.”
She huffed again. “You like being married to me.”
“That’s true, but there’s no way you can prove it.”
“Why would I need to?”
He was teasing her, in a carefree, affectionate way she wasn’t used to. He was being confident, playful, sure. It was downright sexy.
“Brant?”
His eyes were still closed, that smile ever-present. “Hmm?”
“Do you—” She broke off abruptly.
One eye opened, then the other. He peered at her, his eyes so strikingly blue she almost couldn’t believe they were real. “I do.”
“But you don’t know what I was going to say.”
“Maybe,” he said sleepily.
“What was I going to ask?” She laid her ear against his shoulder, her heart thrumming faster.
“If I loved you.” His body was warm under hers, and the way she curved into him felt so good it was like they’d been made for this.
“And I do.” He snugged h
er closer with a satisfied sigh, and she thought he might be falling asleep.
“Do you want to know if I do, too?”
“Sometimes you don’t need words,” he said. “Sometimes you just know.”
Brant slipped onto a stool near the diner’s kitchen, groaning inwardly when he realized he’d taken a seat beside his uncle Henry. He made a fleeting wish to be whisked back to Galveston with April.
“Hello, Uncle Henry,” Brant said pleasantly. He lifted a finger, catching Mrs. Fisher’s attention. “Coffee and an apple muffin, please.”
“There’s our newlywed.” The waitress smiled, her eyes lighting up. “How’s married life treating you so far? Good honeymoon in Galveston?”
Brant grinned. “Marriage is even better than I’d dreamed.”
“You know she’s just using you to get out of that marriage she never wanted,” Henry grumbled.
Brant’s spirits flagged. He was too exhausted from their quick honeymoon and its late nights, then jumping back into a full work week while still adjusting to family life—and Kurt’s sudden need to sleep in their bed, tossing and kicking all night long—to deal with Henry and his moods. The honeymoon had left him energized and happy, but also tired. And wishing to go back again.
Mrs. Fisher had placed his cup of coffee in front of him, and he took a gulp so he wouldn’t bite through his tongue while trying to hold it for his uncle’s benefit.
“Oh, Henry,” Jackie said, tapping him on the shoulder with a lacquered nail as she slipped onto the stool on his other side. “April loves Brant like crazy.”
“She does?” Brant asked, unable to help himself. He’d seen in her eyes how she felt, but hadn’t heard her say the words, leaving him with a sliver of doubt he couldn’t quite disregard despite his gut feeling.
Jackie rolled her eyes. “You two haven’t said it yet?” She shook her head and gave Mrs. Fisher a look that made the older woman laugh. “You guys don’t do anything in order.”
“That’s what I’ve been telling April.”
“That girl has always been scattered and impulsive,” Henry said. “Just like her father.”