Page 27 of Auctioned to the Cowboy

“For when Henry starts acting up,” he jokes with a smirk.

Everyone bursts into laughter, even Ben joining in with a hearty chuckle. I shake my head, holding up the collar with mock seriousness. “Noted. I’ll keep this handy.”

Angus’s gift is next. I tear the wrapping away to reveal a dog bed, plush and inviting but also confusing. I tilt my head at him. “Do you think I need this? I’m not sleeping in the barn, you know.”

Angus claps me on the shoulder. “You’ll see. Trust me.”

Henry steps forward before I can press Angus for an explanation, now cradling something small and alive against his chest. My heart stops as I catch sight of a tiny black-and-white blur wriggling in his arms. It’s a puppy, a border collie no bigger than a loaf of bread, its big eyes scanning the room with curiosity.

“This,” Henry says, his voice softer than I’ve ever heard, “is for you.”

My hands fly to my mouth, tears welling up as he steps closer and places the squirming bundle in my arms. The puppy’s fur is impossibly soft, and the little creature immediately licks my chin, its tail wagging like it’s powered by a motor.

“Henry…” I choke out, my voice trembling. “She’s mine?”

“Yours,” he confirms, his eyes never leaving mine. “Merry Christmas, Shay.”

His words hit me like a freight train. It’s not just the puppy—it’s the thought behind it, the understanding of what this means to me. Growing up, I always dreamed of having a dog, but my father’s temper had made it impossible. And now, here’s Henry, giving me more than a gift. He’s giving me a piece of the life I’ve always wanted.

Tears spill over as I clutch the puppy to my chest. “You guys,” I whisper, looking around at the grinning faces of Ben, Tom, and Angus. “This is too much.”

“Nothing’s too much for you, Shay,” Henry says, moving close. He brushes a tear from my cheek with the pad of his thumb, his touch as gentle as the promise in his eyes. “You’ve given us so much. I love you, Shay Sutton.”

My breath hitches, and my eyes widen as they lock onto his. I see the truth in those silver orbs and the final piece of my happiness slots into place. “And I love you, Henry Sutton.”

His mouth lifts in a teasing grin that melts my insides. “You’re not just saying that because I bought you a puppy, are you?”

I wrap an arm around his neck, pulling him into the whirlwind of puppy kisses and laughter, and whisper in his ear, “Yep. That and the mind-blowing sex. Merry Christmas, Henry. Having your brothers buy me in an auction is the best thing that’s ever happened to me because it brought me to you. I hope I was worth the fifteen grand.”

Henry purses his lips, considering my words. “No, you’re weren’t worth the fifteen grand.”

My mouth drops open in surprise.

“Because you, Mrs. Sutton,” he continues, his silver gaze full of love, “are priceless.”

The room is filled with warmth and joy, the kind that can’t be manufactured or faked. It comes from being surrounded by people who care—people who’ve become your family.

We all gather around the stove, the puppy bouncing excitedly at my feet as I finish preparing the meal. Laughter, the clinking of glasses, and Tom telling some wild story about a Christmas prank gone wrong when they were kids surround me. The energy in the room is electric, a magic I never thought I’d experience.

As we sit down to eat, Ben raises his glass, his voice steady and filled with emotion. “To Shay, for bringing light back into this house. And to family—for sticking together, no matter what.”

“To family,” Tom and Angus echo, their voices overlapping.

Henry lifts his glass last, his gray eyes locking onto mine. “To new beginnings.”

“To love,” I add softly, my heart swelling as I look around the table. I mean it—not only the romantic kind but the love that binds people together and makes a house feel like a home.

The toasts are met with cheers and clinking glasses, and as I take a sip of the warm cider, I realize something I haven’t allowed myself to believe before. This is where I’m meant to be. This house, this family, this man—they’re my future.

The puppy lets out a tiny bark, and everyone’s laughter echoes through the room like a promise of brighter days ahead. This Christmas, I’ve found a place to belong and a reason to hope. And for the first time in a long time, I’m looking forward to what comes next.

Chapter 11

Shay

Three months later

The sizzle of sausage patties fills the kitchen, the savory aroma mingling with the scent of cinnamon from the biscuits baking in the oven. The warm, homey smells wrap around me, a comforting cocoon against the early morning chill. Sunlight filters through the frosted windows, casting soft golden hues across the room, illuminating the cozy mess of breakfast prep.

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