Page 2 of When You Were Mine

“Okay, then.” The officiant cleared his throat. “I now pronounce you husband and wife.”

Clasping hands, they practically ran out of the chapel. Jess floated on a wave of bliss. They burst out the doors into bright sunlight.

“I can’t believe it.” She tipped her head back and shouted, “We’remarried.”

“We’ve been married since we were twelve and I built us that treehouse.” He wrapped an arm around her waist. “Today, we made it legal.” He kissed her. “I love you.”

“I love you so much.”

“So, what do you think?” Grabbing her hand, he headed to the truck. “Spend the night in the motel or hit the road? Your call.”

And this was why she adored him. Two days earlier, they’d found out her teenage sister was pregnant. Instead of staying in Los Angeles to pursue his goals, he’d quit his job and packed his suitcase right alongside her. They’d only been there two years—not nearly long enough to get traction in Hollywood.

They were truly in this together.“We’re not going anywhere until we consummate this marriage, mister.”

He broke into that sexy grin that made her blood go hot. “I like the way you think.”

She grinned, giddy with love for him. “Let’s plan on leaving in the morning.” She bit her bottom lip. “Consummating is going to take all night.”

“Yeah, I don’t know about consummating, but there’s going to be a lot of fucking.”

When they reached his ancient Ford 150, he bent his knees and lifted her into his arms.

She laughed. “What’re you doing?”

“This truck’s the closest thing we have to a marital home, so I’m carrying you over the threshold.” Hitching her higher, he unlocked the door. “Open it.” Once she did, he plopped her onto the seat. Then, instead of hurrying to the driver’s side, he cupped her cheeks and gazed into her eyes. “You’re mine now, Mrs. Trevor Montgomery.”

“I always was, Mr. Jessica Elsworth.”

When he laughed, his eyes sparkled, and she couldn’t believe Hollywood hadn’t snapped this man up. He would’ve been box office gold.

“Take me home, Wild Bill.”

“Anything for you.” His big strong hands cupped her cheeks, and his tongue licked into her mouth. Every time he kissed her, it felt like he’d just come home from a deployment. His hands caressed and his tongue explored with suchhunger.

A car drove past, and a woman shouted, “Get a room.”

“On it,” he shouted back. Smiling against Jess’s mouth, he said, “I can never get enough of my Calamity Jane.” He shut the door and made his way around to the driver’s side.

They’d never fit in their small town. He had no interest in farming, and she wanted so much more than the jobs available in Riverton, Wyoming. Even though they loved their families, they’d just never really connected with kids their age. They only liked hanging out with each other.

Growing up, they’d loved to pretend they were outlaws. They’d ride horses or ATVs, tearing across the land. Using sticks as guns, they’d break into sheds and holler for the “tellers” to hand over the money.

All their lives, they’d dreamed of owning a ranch in Calamity Falls—a town about three hours west. They’d call it Robbers Roost after Butch Cassidy and the Wild Bunch gang’s hideout.

The engine rumbled to life, and she brought the bouquet to her nose, breathing in the sweet, delicious scent. “We should grow roses.”

“I’ll plant you a whole garden.” He pulled away from the curb. “A forever reminder of this day.”

He was so romantic. She smoothed her hand on the ripped fabric of the bench seat. He’d found this truck abandoned by a farmhand who’d run off in the middle of the night. Trevor worked on it for months to get it going. Why? Because she’d wanted to take an advanced dance class only offered in Caspar. Her dad didn’t have the time to drive her, so Trevor did it.

Junior year, someone at school had drawn a heart with Trevor and Jess’s initials in the dust on the hood. A few nights later, when he’d picked her up for prom, she’d noticed Trevor had painted it red.

I love this man.

The moment they entered their motel room, Trevor pulled up his T-shirt, exposing his washboard abs, tan skin, and the arrow leading to the thick outline of his cock.

Once he’d tossed the shirt aside, he gave her a lazy-eyed smirk and undid the first button on his jeans. “What’s it gonna take to get you naked, Mrs. Montgomery?”

---