Page 15 of Riding Mr. Right
“As long as you promise to spank me and tell me to be a good girl again.”
I lean her back, rolling onto her bare chest as I growl low in her ear, “Gladly. What else can I give you, my good girl?”
She grins. “Oh, a couple of kids maybe, a little ranch with some space for some crops, and this every night for the rest of my life. What about you? What are you looking for?”
“Shit, I have spent my entire life looking for something that’s a fraction as good as I feel with you, bunny rabbit. So tell me you’re coming home to me every night and I’ll make sure you have all the crops a person could want, all the kids you can handle, every animal in the alphabet, and my arms around you every single night. How does that sound?”
She smiles and leans up for a kiss. “So you’ll buy me a Zebra?”
“If a zebra gets you in bed at night, then I guess we’re opening a zoo.”
“I’m playing with you, Brick. You’re all the animal I need.” She rolls on top of me and straddles my lap, feeding her fingertips through my beard. “You ready for round two?”
I kiss the tip of her nose as my cock goes hard against her stomach. “I think you’ve got your answer.”
Epilogue
Jewel
Six Weeks Later
Pine trees surround us as the sun casts the perfect glow of light on the maple leaves in the distance. Orange, yellow, and red. The backdrop of our wedding is one I’ll never forget. An apple cider bar is set up in the corner field and there’s a guitarist next to the arch which frames the jagged white peaks of Rugged Mountain.
The air is crisp and cool, and there’s a soothing sound of rustling leaves and quiet birds singing in the distance.
I link into my father’s arm and stare down the aisle toward Brick. He’s wearing a black pair of jeans and a black button up. The sleeves are rolled up halfway, showing off the lines of ink on his forearms. He always looks handsome, but today is different. Today, he looks like my husband, the man I’m about to give my life to. The last six weeks have been ripped from a romance novel. We’ve taken picnics down by that very lake we’re about to marry in front of. We’ve made love in front of the fireplace, we’ve ridden horses up to the ridge to watch the sunset, and we’ve even had our first fight.
He insisted on mint chip ice cream, and I insisted on peanut butter cup. We compromised and bought both… then we forgot them in the back of the truck as we scampered to the bedroom when we got home. We found them the next day, melted and half eaten by a family of hungry raccoons… who also preferred peanut butter cup. So I guess, technically, I win.
Thankfully that tiff didn’t hold us back from the wedding. Not even close. Brick proposed the night after we first made love. I said yes then, I’ll say yes again today, and every day for the rest of my life.
“You ready, sweetheart?” My father glances toward me as an acoustic guitar begins to play a version of the wedding march that I found online. It’s softer and slightly more melodic with a few extra strums here and there. I guess I always have to be different one way or another.
“I am. Are you?”
“Almost.” He tucks his hand into the pocket of his shirt and pulls out a simple piece of blue fabric. At first, I didn’t recognize the significance, but as he lands the object in my hand, I realize he’s handing me a piece from my mother’s work uniform.
My brows wrinkle. “How did you get this?”
“There were boxes of her things packed up by the door after the funeral. Everything looked like it was going to the trash, so I grabbed a few things for sentimental reasons. I didn’t know why at the time, but I figured today, this could be your something blue.”
Having grown up poor, objects of significance didn’t exist. And if by chance they did, it was because they were needed day to day. When my mother passed, there wasn’t much to keep. She lived in scrubs, and she didn’t own any jewelry. In fact, when I left that house there was nothing but a few pots and pans left behind.
Tears well as I tuck the patch of fabric into my dress and glance toward my father. “Thank you. You didn’t have to do that.”
“She’d have been so proud of you today, Jewel. You’re doing it. You’re living the life she fantasized about.”
“How do you know? I don’t remember her talking about her dreams like this. In fact, Mom always said dreams were for people who couldn’t make things happen.” I laugh, wiping away a tear. “The woman really did have a way with words.”
“Well,” my father sucks in a deep breath as we step onto the white runner leading toward the man of my dreams, “I remember a woman years ago whose five-year plan included a little cabin in the woods with a farm and a family to love. And you’ve got that. She’d be proud of you. Trust me.” He wipes away a tear of his own, and for the very first time in my life, I see the man I pictured as a kid. Sure, he doesn’t look like the short, balding man with thick black glasses,but he sounds just like him. This man next to me tries so damn hard. He has since the day we met. He insisted on paying for our wedding, he bought me this beautiful white dress, and he even came to the shop to pick it out with me. Above all of that, this man has brought me homemade meals at least once a week since Brick and I moved in together at the cabin.
Spaghetti sauce, banana bread, taco soup, elk stew, chocolate cake, raspberry pie. You name it, he’s made it, and it’s always delicious.
I drag in a deep breath and lean against my father’s shoulder as we walk forward. “Thank you for doing this.”
He kisses my hand and nods before handing me off to Brick who’s wiping away tears under the antler arch that he and my father spent last week building.
“You look stunning, bunny.” Brick pulls me into his arms, kissing my forehead before holding me tight.