Page 42 of All for You

Pulling back slightly, I search her face. “I?—”

She presses a finger to my lips, silencing me. “I mean it. Your wealth, your ranch—they’re part of you, but they’re not why I fell in love with you. It’s the way you furrow your brow when you’re concentrating, how fiercely you protect what’s yours, the gentleness in your hands when you work with the horses and hold me tight. Do you know I noticed you that very first shift when you came in and sat in that back booth? You scared me. That’s why I switched tables with Daisy.”

“I would never hurt you.”

“Oh, I wasn’t scared you’d hurt me, Travis. I was scared I’d fall in love with you.”

Her words sink into the depths of my soul, filling the cracks and crevices I thought would forever remain empty. At that moment, the fortress I’d built around my heart crumbles to dust. Rachel sees me, truly sees me, in a way no one else ever has. Not as a wealthy rancher or a successful businessman, but simply as a man. A man who’s found a love that consumes him.

With this beautiful woman in my arms, I finally feel complete. Whole. She’s my missing puzzle piece, her soft curves molding to the hard planes of my body perfectly.

“Pack your things. You’re moving in with me,” I say, my voice leaving no room for argument.

Her eyes widen, a mix of astonishment and resistance flaring up to argue with me. “Travis, I can’t just?—”

Her place is cramped and dimly lit. The walls are paper-thin, and the carpet is worn to threads in places. The floor scuffed. It’s no place for her—a woman of warmth and dreams larger than this small town can hold. Besides, when she screams my name, I don’t want the neighbors to hear or the delivery men to come knocking.

“Non-negotiable.”

I untangle myself from her arms and wander further into her tiny apartment heading straight to the kitchen area. I reach out, unplugging her mini fridge with a firm tug, and turn to her with a teasing glint in my eye. “You’re coming with me, or the cheese gets it.”

A laugh bubbles up from her throat, and the tears dry. She surrenders with a shake of her head, the tension draining away. I help Rachel pack a bag and promise to return for the rest of her things. Then I take her hand, and the block of cheese from the fridge, and we leave the little apartment behind.

As I lead her to my parked truck, the evening breeze meets us with a gentle caress. I open the passenger door, and give her the boost she needs to climb in. When I slide into the driver’s seat, a sense of peace rolls over me.

The drive back to the ranch seems endless, but when we arrive, I park and sprint around the hood to help her. Her hand in mine has never felt so right, and I can’t even stop the smile curving my lips.

As we walk through the front door, I watch as her eyes take in the sweeping grandeur of my home—the high vaulted ceilings, the exposed wooden beams, and the two sided-stone fireplace that dominates the living room and kitchen. Plush leather furniture invites comfort, while giant windows frame views of the sprawling land that has been in my family for generations.Local Western art adorns the walls, alongside family photos that tell the Kincaid’s story.

“Wow, Travis, it’s stunning,” she whispers, her voice filled with awe.

“Wait until you see the bedroom.” I can’t wait to show her the bedroom, the first room I redecorated after my ex-wife left.

The room has soft, earthy tones and textures. A massive king-sized bed commands the space, the wrought iron frame intricate and bold in contrast to the quilted coverlet. Wood flooring gleams under the warm glow of matching bedside lamps and heavy dark brown curtains can be drawn to shut out the world.

“This is...” She trails off as if unable to find the words.

“Ours,” I finish for her, pulling her close.

“What about your mother?”

“She’s moved back to the old family house.”

Rachel leans back. “Wait. This isn’t your family home?”

“No, sweetheart. I built this place. Once I knew I’d be taking over the ranch one day, I started making plans to have my own place. The family home is on another part of the property. My mother will be staying there from now on. And don’t worry, it’s far enough way that she won’t just saunter over when she feels like it.”

“Oh.”

Collectively, we agree to no more talking. Our lips collide in a passionate, hungry, and demanding kiss, and we can’t keep our hands from taking their own journey. We slowly make our way over to the bed, ditching our clothing along the way. When we tumble onto the mattress, we’re breathing heavily and ready to consummate this new relationship.

The sensation of Rachel beneath my fingertips makes me harder than I’d ever been, her flesh soft and yielding to my touch. We move together with zealous urgency, exploring eachother enthusiastically. Working ourselves up and slowing down to start over again. Time means nothing as we rock gently together, reveling in our new-found connection.

Rachel’s breathless whisper caresses my ear. “Travis...”

My heart gallops at the sound of my name on her lips. “Rachel, I love you.”

I retreat slightly, drinking in the sight of her flushed cheeks and parted lips. My thumb traces the curve of her jaw, loving the softness of her skin.

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