“Six. And one of those rooms where you put up the biggest of big-ass TVs and watch movies.”
Her eyebrows arched higher yet. “How well did you do in California?”
“You have to marry me to find out.”
“I’m talking about building a house. I didn’t say I’d marry you.”
“You’d better.” He only had to glance at Sundown to have the horse give her a solid head butt, sending her into his arms. “You’re outnumbered. Let’s build a house, Bodine. Let’s make a family.”
“I knew you’d come.” She laid her hand on his cheek. “I was so scared, but I knew you’d come. I couldn’t just sit and wait, but I knew. I wonder now if I always knew you’d come back. You’d come back home, and you’d come to me. I couldn’t sit and wait, but I wonder if I knew. It’s nice to think so. One thing’s for certain: When I had the knife you’d given me all those years ago, and I worked on that lock, I knew when I got out, got away, I’d come back to you. I’d come to you, and marry you.”
She wrapped around him for the kiss, swore she felt their roots planting together on that spot.
“I love you, Bodine. You’ll know it every day.”
“I love you back.” She looked into his eyes. “I love you so much back.”
“You hear that?” Callen swooped her up, gave her a spin.
Sundown gave a whinny of approval, hip-bumped Leo into a snort.
With a laugh, Bodine leaned her head on Callen’s shoulder. “It’s going to be a hell of a sunset.”
“Every night.”
“Speaking of nights. Five bedrooms.”
“Six.” He boosted her into her saddle. “And I’ll throw in a hot tub on the top porch, for the master bedroom.”
Bodine looked at the land, imagined the house. “A hot tub,” she murmured.
Grinning, Callen swung into his own saddle so they could ride the land and talk of tomorrows while the sky turned to glory.