Page 72 of Deceit & Desire

The reception was just as down-to-earth as Zoe and Roman. A buffet loaded with barbecue, baked beans, and sweet tea stretched across the barn, and the makeshift dance floor was already filling up. Rick kicked things off with a toast, raising a bottle of beer.

“To Roman and Zoe,” he said, grinning. “Proof that even the grumpiest cowboy can find his happily ever after. Cheers!”

I laughed as Zoe grabbed my arm and dragged me onto the dance floor.

“Come on, Mrs. York!” I teased, spinning her around. “Show ‘em how it’s done!”

She spun me back, her laugh ringing out above the music. “I’m not letting you make me look bad at my own wedding, Kat.”

“That’s the spirit,” I said, grinning. And for a moment, I let myself just enjoy it—the music, the laughter, the way Zoe’s smile lit up the whole damn barn. But the knot in my chest hadn’t disappeared. There were too many ghosts in the room for me to fully relax.

Later, I spotted Michael Carter standing awkwardly near Roman, his hands stuffed in his pockets. I stiffened, watching closely, ready to step in if he said the wrong thing. But Roman didn’t need me. Michael extended a hand, his voice low and earnest.

“Thank you for letting me and my family be here, Roman,” he said. “It means a lot to see her happy.”

Roman met his gaze, his tone firm but not unkind. “She’s happy because she’s finally home and the truth has come to light. That’s all that matters.”

Michael nodded, his shoulders sagging slightly, and walked off. I watched him go, a part of me still unsure if he’d earned the right to be here. But Zoe had made her choice to forgive him—or at least to try.

At the drink station, Landon Blackwell appeared at my side, offering me a glass of sweet tea.

“Never thought I’d see the day Zoe Brandt got married,” he said, teasing. “Guess Roman must be one hell of a guy.”

I took the tea, raising an eyebrow at the deputy. “Or she’s just one hell of a woman. I think we both know which it is.”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “Fair point.”

The night blurred into golden lights and laughter, and as I watched Roman twirl Zoe under the string lights, her laughter ringing out like music, I felt the knot in my chest loosen just a little. She’d been through hell and back, but she’d found her way here—to love, to joy, to something that felt like hope. And damn if that wasn’t worth celebrating.

* * *

ZOE

The reception was everything I’d dreamed of—warm, intimate, and brimming with the kind of love that didn’t just come from me and Roman, but from everyone gathered here. The ranch was glowing under the soft string lights we’d strung across the paddock, and the faint hum of music mingled with the sound of laughter and the clink of glasses.

But even in the middle of this perfect night, I felt the undercurrent of something deeper. The kind of happiness that didn’t come easily, that came after clawing your way out of the darkness. This wasn’t just a wedding; it was a battle cry, a declaration of survival. And as I looked around at the faces gathered here, I knew it wasn’t just mine and Roman’s. It belonged to all of us.

I caught sight of Rick standing near the edge of the gathering, a beer in hand. He looked relaxed for once, though the way his eyes occasionally drifted toward the horizon told me his mind was already halfway back home. Rick wasn’t the kind of man who could sit still for too long, but tonight, he’d let himself linger in the glow of the moment. That was enough.

Kat appeared at my side, her blonde hair catching the light in soft waves, the sage green of her dress perfectly complementing her striking blue eyes. She held an envelope out to me with a knowing smile, her expression carrying a touch of mischief as usual.

“Here you go, Mrs. York,” she teased, her voice lilting. “One big surprise, ready for delivery.”

“Thanks, Kat,” I said, my grin widening at the sound of my new name. It still felt surreal. “Wish me luck.”

“You won’t need it,” she said with a wink before slipping away to rejoin the crowd.

I took a steadying breath, clutching the envelope in my hand like it held more than paper—like it held the weight of everything I wanted to say but couldn’t put into words. Crossing the yard to where Rick was leaning against the fence, I rehearsed the words in my head, trying to get them just right.

He looked up as I approached, straightening a little, and tipped his hat.

“Mrs. York,” he said, his tone warm and teasing. “Beautiful ceremony. You and Roman outdid yourselves.”

“Thanks, Rick,” I said, holding out the envelope. My voice was steady, but my heart raced. “And I think it’s time we outdo ourselves a little more.”

He frowned, taking the envelope cautiously. “What’s this?”

I folded my arms, watching as he opened it. His brow furrowed, and for a moment, I saw a flicker of something unreadable cross his face. Then his eyes widened as he pulled out the check. He stared at it like it might catch fire in his hands.

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