by Snow, Nicole
Liver failure, caused by dehydration, is our greatest fear right now. It could end him.
This is the birthing stall. That’s what Gramps called it, though it hasn’t been used for that in decades.
Edison had been born in this stall, and many horses before him.
Like upstairs in the hayloft, where I’d penned stories, I used to sit in this stall for hours on end, dreaming about all the horses I’d see born in this stall someday.
When had I stopped dreaming those dreams? Why?
Why had I stayed away for so many years?
Because I’d been told to.
Told it was time to grow up, go to college, and decide what I wanted to be.
I step back to make room for Dr. Little’s assistant to wheel the IV pedestal to the wall so they can secure it there, right next to the calendar that’s hung there for ages, probably one from the sixties.
I used to flip through the yellowed pages, looking at the pictures of all the different types of horses that I’d dream about being born here one day.
Drawn to do that again, I flip the page up. My heart takes a tumble as I see another Post-it note.
Welcome home, Bella.
They say that’s where the heart is, and your heart’s always been here. Right here in this old barn where you always wanted to spend the night.
It’s always been your choice to follow what’s in your heart, your dreams.
Maybe I just reminded you.
Love, your wise old Gramps
Drake’s hand squeezes my shoulder, and I glance at him, knowing he’s read it over my shoulder.
I close my eyes as he kisses my temple. Drake Larkin hadn’t been in my heart, my dreams, all those years ago, but he is now.
“Now we wait,” Dr. Little says. “I’ll draw blood again in a couple hours, see how he’s reacting to the IV.”
The barn is silent, yet it shouldn’t be.
It’s full of people. Staff from Dr. Little’s office, Sheriff Wallace and other officers, my parents, people from Earhart and Dallas. Plus Angie and Sherry and Terry.
They never left since all hell broke loose.
They’re all here because of Edison.
He’d been a hero in my eyes long before now, and now I have a new one.
Drake.
He’d told the sheriff to call a vet even before he’d found me. And he’s done a whole lot more than that. Because of him, I know what I want.
I lean my head against the solidness of his chest for a moment, and then nod at the vet. “Thanks, Dr. Little.” I look at the crowd. “Thank you all!”
Mom steps forward then. I’m surprised she still hasn’t put up a fuss to change, or tried to wipe the dirt off her blouse.
But there are tears in her eyes as she glides a hand down Edison’s face, and then as she wraps her arms around me. I’m amazed at the warmth of her lips as she kisses my cheek, and not just the air next to it.
“You stay right here, Annabelle,” she whispers. “Stay with Edison and Drake. Your father and I will take care of everything.”
Within minutes, she has everyone herded out of the barn.
I have no idea where the food comes from that I eat while Sheriff Wallace questions me about the day’s events, and later, when Dr. Little shakes his head after drawing and testing Edison’s blood.
Drake holds me tight as I try to hold in more tears.
Hours later, it takes me a moment to pull my eyelids open. Drake’s face is above mine.
I sit up fast, a hundred questions hanging on my lips.
“Your wish came true,” he says.
I smile, unsure if he’s talking about himself in my still half-asleep brain. “What wish?”
He kisses my forehead. “You slept all night in the barn.”
“I did?” The haze of sleep completely disappears. “Edison!”
Pushing aside the blanket covering me, I leap to my feet. Drake is smiling and so is Dr. Little.
Then I hear a loud nicker.
I cross the stall and see him then. His eyes are clear, and his nose feels cool to the touch.
“His blood work looks perfect,” Dr. Little says. “I’ve loosened the sling, but we’ll keep him in it for a couple more hours just to be safe. Overall, I’d say he’s as healthy as a horse.”
Pure elation. That’s the only way I can describe the joy tearing me apart from the inside out.
It doesn’t take long before the entire ranch knows it, too.
Once everyone has seen Edison for themselves and given him their best, Mom herds us all to the house.
“Drake and Annabelle, you two go shower, change your clothes. Angie and I will have breakfast on the table when you come down,” she says as we enter the house. “Dr. Little, please come in the kitchen. Coffee’s ready for the hero of the hour. This one, anyway.”
Who is this woman?
I didn’t think this kind of transformation could happen outside Dickens’ novels. But I think Mom clearly saw the ghost of something when Avery dragged us to death’s doorstep, and maybe, just maybe, it was her own soul.
Drake takes my hand, leading me up the steps. “I didn’t know your mother was so domestic.”
“Neither did I!”
We both laugh. I’m too happy to ever stop now.
Until we are in the hallway, that is, outside of our bedrooms.
“Go on. You shower first,” Drake says, a knowing smile on his face.
I shake my head and loop my arms around his neck. This may be the only alone time we’ll have all day, and I’m going to make the most of it.
“Together, cowboy. You’re crazy if you think I’d settle for less.” I press up against him and bring my lips close to his, begging.
His kiss delivers, sweeping me off my feet, into his arms.
The raw, wicked heat just ignites my desire for more.
I don’t think our lips miss a single second as we move. We barely make it into the bathroom before I shove his shirt over his head. “You’ve been neglecting me long enough.”
He laughs. “Neglecting you?”
I nod. Way too seriously, and he laughs again.
His hands slide under my shirt, his thumbs seeking out my nipples.
I think the floor might fall out under me when I feel him squeeze. Oh, hell.
“Sounds serious. Better rectify that right now, darlin’.”
Then our hands, our lips, our hearts are everywhere.
Searching, feeling, tearing off our clothes while we drink each other good and deep.
I’m desperate for this man, this beast who’s saved me a hundred times over.
In no time, Drake has me pressed up against the shower wall, his washboard body slick, wet from the water steaming out the shower head, forming this heaven for our skin.
The tension, the ache, of needing him inside me is overpowering.
I shove at his shoulders, forcing enough space between us to grasp his cock.
So hard, so perfect, and so freaking ready.
Knowing it’s the only thing in the world that could satisfy right now, I give it a couple hard pumps. “I want this inside me, Drake. Fucking now.”
He releases my nipple from his mouth, his whole body going stiff.
“Fuck, darlin’. Hang on.” He leans down, giving me one more quick lick, just above my breast. “I’ll go get a condom.”
I keep my hand on his dick, pumping it harder. “We’re married, Drake. And I’m on the pill.”
He grabs both my shoulders, a feral snarl pushing through his teeth.
The look in his eyes just stills me.
Every inch of me, every word, every breath.
His dick is still in my hand, but I’m just holding it, waiting for his next move.
This is his choice. I’m his, and I think I’ve shown him that’s not changing. So I wait, and pray to God it’s what he wants, too.
“You mean it?” he asks, his smile growing.
My heart leaps. “Yes, I mean it, si
lly. We’re married. For better, for worse. For richer, for poorer. So fuck me like a married woman.”
He grabs my hips and lifts me up. I hook my arms around his neck, spread my legs, and wrap them around his hips.
“Let’s make this the start of a long damn honeymoon. Till death do us part,” he says, thrusting so deep.
My eyes roll back, and I’m gone, lost to his rhythm, just the steady building hiss of the water and this inked madman who has a gift for making me see stars.
It’s heavenly, so perfect, I kiss him while pressing down, taking him deeper inside me. “I love you, Drake Larkin.”
“I love you, Annabelle Larkin.”
God, that name.
But it’s nothing compared to when he starts pumping.
Then there’s nothing to do but spread my legs and enjoy. Glory in the raw, wild sensations that instantly fill me.
It doesn’t last long, and it shouldn’t with people waiting for us downstairs. I’m a lucky, lucky woman when I remember how his dick teases my clit, how his stubble teases my throat, hurling me over the edge to bliss.
“I was gonna ask you for real, you know.”
I arch, pressing harder against him as the pressure inside me builds.
“Ask what?” I whisper between gasps.
“To marry me, Bella. Marry me for real.” He sucks in air. “You’ve got your ring. You’ve got my dick inside you now. Nothing else we need except the ceremony, making it official.”
Holy hell.
He can’t be proposing...like this?
Oh, but he is. And it’s totally, totally Drake.
I dig my nails into his shoulders, urging him on, even as my pleasure peaks.
I’m so freaking close now, so close it steals my focus.
The wave hits like lightning, this harsh, delightful release that takes every last crappy thing from the past twenty-four hours, and crumples it into a ball of white-hot sweetness, this void where Drake does me so good I forget. If only temporarily.
He picks up speed, slamming into me, sandwiching me between his hard body and the wall. Then he goes rigid, except for that final, fateful thrust.
I think I’m starting to love his release just as much as my own. Our pleasure mingles and I’m leaking him with a smile on my face when I say it. “Okay.”
“Okay? You’ll marry me?” he asks, leaning back against the shower wall. “Again?”
He’s still holding me when I look up, diving into those blue eyes.
I could stay right here forever.
So I lift my head, kiss him, and nod. “Yes, Drake. I’ll marry you again. I’ll marry you a hundred times.”
“Hot fuckin’ damn! Darlin’, you know I’ll hold you to it. A hundred kisses, right the hell now.”
Lord, do I try.
But I think what happens is that we just end up melding a hundred into one long, unbroken, all-consuming kiss. And it consumes me all over again, leading to another messy, sexy round.
Eventually, we finish our shower, and while he goes to his room to get dressed, I use the blow dryer on my hair.
Once that’s done, I look in the mirror and smile.
One dream complete, time for one more.
Breakfast is on the table, just like Mom promised, by the time we’re down. I sit down next to Drake and reach over, laying my hand on the table next to Dad.
He smiles at me and pats my hand.
I draw in a breath. Here goes nothing. Or everything.
“Dad...I’ve been thinking. I don’t want to sit on the founder’s seat of North Earhart. I don’t know enough, and I won’t know enough six months from now, either. Would you consider taking over that seat for me, Dad? Holding it until...someday when I’m ready? Please?”
He squeezes my hand. “Honey, your grandfather was very specific about—”
“I know. Look, I know Gramps willed it to me, but I also know he willed it to me to decide what to do. I’ve made my choice. I’m going to live here, on the ranch.” I reach over and lay my other hand on Drake’s arm. “With my husband.” I glance at Drake. “I want to raise horses and hopefully, children someday, right here with him and all our memories of this place.”
He smiles at me and nods. “Me, too.”
Happy, so very happy, I turn back to my dad. “I want you to sit in that seat, to oversee North Earhart Oil for Gramps. Someday, when you’re done, I’ll take over and do something else.” Optimism fills me. “Or maybe one of my kids will. Who knows? Life’s just full of surprises.”
Dad nods and then looks at Mom.
Once again, there are tears in her eyes as she nods back at him.
“She’s proven herself, Gary. And so have you.”
Before I can say another word, Sherry comes running into the kitchen from the living room. “Can I give Edison a candy cane, Uncle Drake? He really wants one.”
“How’d you know that?” Drake asks. “Thought you were in the living room watching cartoons.”
“I know,” she says, nodding vigorously. “But...he’s at the front door. By the porch.”
Dr. Little laughs, setting down his coffee cup. “I’m afraid you’re mistaken, little girl. Edison can’t be at the front porch. He still has the sling on.”
Drake and I look at each other and laugh.
Shaking my head, I stand up. “Nothing’s impossible when it comes to Edison.”
Sure enough, my horse is there, standing next to the front porch.
Dr. Little, beside himself, trying to figure out how Edison could have gotten out of the sling, heads for the barn.
Drake wraps his arms around me from behind and pulls me back against him. “Horses and children?”
“Yes,” I say. “I’m thinking a half dozen of each.”
“Who knows,” he says kissing the side of my neck. “A famous, beautiful lady once told me something. I think it was about...five minutes ago? Life’s just full of surprises.”
I elbow him hard and we go down in the grass, laughing and kissing and so much in love we don’t care what anybody thinks.
20
Backyard Honeymoon (Drake)
It’s been months, and she looks just as beautiful as she did during our first roll in the hay – literally. Hell, maybe more beautiful.
There are days when I wonder how I ever lived without her. Without the happiness and love she’s brought into my life.
I look out the window, at the huge white tent, the tables, the chairs, the dance floor, and the flowers. They’re everywhere, and ninety-nine percent pink. “I thought we were having a simple affair.”
Giggling, she loops her arms around my neck. “It could be worse. Trust me.”
I grasp her waist and pull her in close for a kiss. “This what you want, darlin’? Really?”
She nods. “Yep. I told Mother she could be in charge of the whole wedding, just as long as it happens right here on the ranch, and as long as I get to be Mrs. Drake Larkin.”
Damn. I’m not sure my dick will ever have another day of peace every time I hear my wife’s full name.
Molly’s been incredible, which still hasn’t stopped surprising me.
She’s spent the last four months planning our wedding. Day in and day out. “Can’t believe what she’s got together,” I say.
Bella laughs and slips out of my arms. “Mom loves you now. And once you’re finally on her good side, well, the rest always just seems to fall into place.”
I glance out the window again. “She loves the fact that I agreed to all this.”
I’d have agreed to anything. Even though we’re already married, have been for almost six months, I’m looking forward to officially proclaiming my love and devotion to Bella.
A giggle escapes from the new walk-in closet of the master bedroom. We decided to change the place up again once we knew we’d never sleep in separate rooms again.
“Hurry! Pictures are scheduled in an hour.” She steps out of the closet, carrying a big white garment bag. “Mom has just abou
t everything scheduled right down to the minute.”
I lift a brow. “Even our wedding night? Because as much as I like Molly...that sounds fuckin’ awkward.”
She gives me a saucy look. “Rest assured, I have that part taken care of.” Heading to the door, she says, “I’m going to my old room to get dressed.”
My eyes go straight to her sweet ass as she wanders off, giddy as ever to marry me for real.
Her laugh just hangs in the air long after she slips out of the door.
How the hell did I wind up here, anyway, marrying the woman of my dreams? The last few months have been bliss, but they’ve had their thorns, too.
I think back to the depositions, the trial, everything happening the past few months as me and Wallace helped make sure the Briars would never see the light of day.
Jupiter’s been buried forever. The Feds came down on them as soon as the 'Dragon killer' started showing up in the national news. I think every damn alphabet department has found something on that company.
It’s been torn limb from limb, leaving a whole lot of people looking for work. Thankfully, most of ’em are honest, and North Earhart has taken on as many fresh faces as possible.
I’m barely involved with that business these days, though. Mostly just hear it from Bella. I’m content to work around this ranch, fixing it up to be better than yesterday, everything my wife ever hoped for – and some things she never imagined.
Smiling, I change into the tuxedo, that yes, I’d agreed to, and sit down to put on the shiny black shoes that are about as uncomfortable as those stupid-ass thongs people wear.
I’ll never figure out how they can stand that strap between their–
There’s a knock at my door.
“Come in!”
“Wowwww,” Angie says, stepping in. “You clean up pretty well.”
I nod at the layers of pink she’s wearing. “You, too, sis. Or did you spill Pepto-Bismol all over yourself?”
She laughs, flipping me the middle finger. I’m glad the banter between us feels natural again.
“In case you’d forgotten, I’m wearing this getup for you, dear brother, and for Bella, the best sister ever.” She pushes the fluffy, wide skirt out of the way as she closes the door. “Guess I’m glad it’s pink. Because if Molly had picked out puke-green, I’d be wearing it.”