Page 111 of Dirty Cowboy

“Darling,” he murmurs, his voice thick with emotion. “there’s nothing I would love more than you carrying my child.” His fingers tighten ever so slightly, his touch reverent. “I want that future with you. I want everything.”

I bite my lip, barely able to contain the hopeful smile tugging at my mouth. “You really want that?”

His gaze flickers down, like he’s gathering courage.

“I’ve always wanted this,” he says, voice barely above a whisper. “But I never thought I could have it. Not until I found you. Emma, I want everything—with you.”

The sheer honesty in his voice steals the breath from my lungs. Emotion swells, thick and aching. I cup his face, thumb brushing against the stubble along his jaw.

“I want that too,” I whisper. “I want a life with you.”

He presses a lingering kiss to my forehead, his lips soft, his breath warm. Then, he pulls back just slightly, his eyes dark with something unshakable.

“Then let’s make it happen. But I need to tell Grandpa Albert the truth.”

My heart stutters. Grandpa Albert. The man who believes in this engagement more than anyone. The man who has spent his whole life pouring love into this ranch, into his family, into Eric.

I stiffen, searching Eric’s face. “The truth? Which parts?”

“Everything,” he says, his grip tightening around me. “About us. About the engagement. How it started as something to help us both. But now...” He meets my gaze, his warmth wrapping around me like a promise. “Now, I don’t want it to be a lie anymore. He deserves to know how much you’ve sacrificed and how much you’ve helped me. How much I truly love you.”

The words hang between us, so real my breath catches. My heart is too full, too swollen with everything I feel for this man.

I nod, voice barely above a whisper. “Then we’ll tell him. We’ll tell him everything.”

He exhales, the tension in his shoulders easing. “Thank you,” he murmurs.

And then, before I can process what’s happening, he removes his arm from behind me, shifts out of the embrace, and lifts himself onto one knee.

He takes my hands, holding them with a kind of reverence that sends my heart into freefall. This isn’t how I pictured a proposal. It’s not rehearsed, not planned, not in some grand, orchestrated moment. But it’s better. It’s real. It’s raw. It’s him.

“Emma,” he begins, his voice soft, filled with something almost fragile. “I know this isn’t the most conventional way to do this, and maybe we started out with something that wasn’t real...but I want to make it real now. Will you?—”

A loud, insistent banging shatters the moment.

The sound echoes through the house, reverberating off the walls, slicing through the warmth we just built.

My heart leaps to my throat and Eric stiffens. The pounding comes again, harder this time. Demanding.

And then a voice booms from outside, shaking me to my core.

“Eric!”

I freeze.

My brother.

“Eric, open the fucking door before we break it down!”

The door shakes under Tristan’s relentless pounding, each thud vibrating through the house, rattling the windows, sending shockwaves straight through my chest. Emma’s wide, tear-filled eyes lock onto mine. The fire behind her flickers low, its warmth no match for the ice settling in my gut. The fragile peace between us shatters, splintering into jagged edges that slice through the moment.

“Get dressed.” I grab a shirt off the couch, shoving one arm in as the next blow rattles the door.

“Eric!” Tristan’s voice booms. “Last fucking warning!”

The second I throw open the door, his fist connects with my jaw. A sharp explosion of pain blinds me for a second, and I stumble back, gripping the frame to stay upright.

“You fucking bastard!” Tristan charges forward, grabbing my shirt, his grip tight with rage. “What did you do to our sister?”

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