Cowboy Up (Coming Home #3)

“Oh, God,” one of the girls sobs.

I hear some more sniffles, but I can’t look away from Caroline to see who is crying. My eyes don’t leave hers once while Judge Allan—the only person available to marry us on a Wednesday night—speaks out for the small group to hear clearly. The whole ceremony is a fog for me, my focus only on Caroline, as my heart pounds happily. I slip my band on her finger without breaking our gaze, and she does the same. The second the solid weight of my wedding band registers, I feel my control slipping and my eyes watering. She doesn’t miss it either, but I reckon she’s too busy holding her own emotions in check to do much about it. It isn’t until Judge Allan tells me I can kiss my bride that I move.

My hands frame her face and my feet take a step closer until I bend and take my wife’s mouth in a slow, deep kiss. I have to force myself to pull away, but when I look down at Caroline—my wife—and see the dazed stare in her dark eyes I smile and drop my forehead to hers.

“I love you. I loved you before you were my wife and I’ll love you long after my last breath. Thank you, Linney, for blessin’ my life.”

She hiccups out a soft sob, closing her eyes and tightening her arms around me. “Heavens above, Clayton Davis. You’re an incredible man. You own my heart, honey. Now and forever.”

I move my mouth to her ear, making sure no one can hear me, and grin when she sucks in a breath. “I’m gonna be bad with my wife tonight.”

Her hand that’s resting on chest trembles slightly before her fingers grip the fabric. Leaning back, I wink down at her and place a quick kiss against her forehead.

Judge Allan signs the papers to make us legal before waving us off and taking one of the golf carts back toward the ranch where he left his truck. He knew we wanted this moment to be as private as can be, shared between family only, and I’m thankful he doesn’t stick around, giving us this moment before our marriage news spreads through town.

And spread it will.

I have a feeling that by the time I wake up in the morning with my wife in my arms, the whole town is going to know Clayton Davis finally settled down.

“What’s up, sista!” Quinn hoots, her voice carrying in the vast open space around us. I frown at her when she pulls Caroline from my arms and wraps her in her own. The brat just sticks her tongue out at me when I reach for Caroline again. “Someone is goin’ to need to learn to share. She’s not just yours, big brother.”

“Like hell,” I grunt.

“Oh, be a good boy, Clay. Sharin’ is carin’, you know.”

I narrow my eyes at Quinn. Before I can say anything, Caroline smiles at me over her shoulder, her eyes dancing with mischief.

“Yeah, honey . . . be a good boy.”

I arch my brow, place my hands on my hips, and smile at her. Her eyes widen the second she realizes that, by trying to play me, she’s about to get it right back.

“Darlin’, need I remind you how much you love it when I’m bad?”

“Clayton!” she hisses, her cheeks turning pink.

“Oh, really?” Quinn gasps with mock shock. “Someone’s been holdin’ out on us, Leigh!”

“I’m goin’ to get you for that,” Caroline whispers, closing her eyes and shaking her head when Quinn and Leigh continue teasing. “I’m goin’ to tell them you’ve got a butt fetish.”

Tossing my head back, I laugh loudly and pull her into my arms. “Linney, that’s not exactly a threat, considerin’ I most definitely love your ass.”

“That’s not what I meant!”

“I might need to show you just how much I love it later,” I continue, ignoring her. Her eyes darken and I pull her tighter against me. “Knew you loved me bein’ bad for you.”

I expected her to ignore me, but instead she holds my gaze—pink cheeks and all—and shrugs. “I don’t think there’s a single thing in this world that I don’t love when it comes to you, Clayton.”

“Feelin’s mutual, Linney, love.”

“We’re goin’ to head back to the house and start gettin’ the food out,” Maverick says, stepping closer with his daughter asleep against his chest. “Give y’all some time alone.”

I nod. “Thanks, Mav.”

He lifts his chin, looks down at his daughter, and kisses her on the top of her blond head. I glance at my niece and feel the tug in my chest. Until Caroline, I never wanted that—what my brother has right there in his arms. I shoot my eyes over to where Quinn is fussing over her son while he grunts in his father’s arms. One more glance at Laelynn, and I feel a burst of determination rush over me. I want that. I want children with the woman who owns my happiness, love, and life. I need it. More than that, I want to prove that I can be what my parents couldn’t be.

Maverick clears his throat, pulling my eyes from his daughter. My normally stoic and close-off brother gives me a whole hell of a lot without words when I lock eyes with him. He gets it. The need that’s coursing through my veins right now. One corner of his mouth tips up. He adjusts his daughter so he can pull one hand away, placing his large hand on my shoulder. Caroline steps to the side; then my brother has one arm around my back and his head next to mine, voice low. “Real happy for you, Clay. You deserve everything you’ve gotten and will get with Caroline. You know what kinda peace lovin’ her gives you, but just you wait until your woman blesses you with your firstborn. No fuckin’ feelin’ can compare to the love that grows from that for your child, and for the woman you never imagined possible to love more. Just you wait.”

Fuck me.

I clench my jaw, press my lips to my niece’s temple, and lift my head to nod at Mav. He doesn’t need me to acknowledge his words, not when we both know he isn’t wrong.

True to his word, Maverick corrals the small group into carts to head off to his house. The sound of their chatter lingers behind them long after they disappear around the trees that keep Mav and Leigh’s property mostly hidden. Caroline steps into me, her front against mine, and wraps her arms around my waist. Resting my chin against the top of her head, I close my arms around her.

“I can’t wait to get you back home,” I confess softly, my hands caressing the bare skin completely exposed from just below her shoulders to the top of her ass, showing the dimples at the base of her spine. “Is this clasp the only thing holding your dress together?” I continue, flicking the tiny stretch of fabric that goes across her shoulder blades.