Page 47 of The Cowboy's Secret Babies

He laughed. “You should think about changing that,” he told her. “Because you look fantastic. Wind or no wind.”

They got themselves a license, then looked at each other as if to test whether one of them was getting cold feet. But no cold feet presented themselves, so they went right ahead and got married.

With Wilder and Cat as witnesses, they said their vows, grinned at each other, and then it was done.

Outside, the old cattleman’s city of hardscrabble neon seemed like magic.

Ryder had booked them into a restaurant, so the four of them settled in and proceeded to eat one of the best meals he’d ever had. Maybe it wasn’t the food, all locally sourced and perfectly prepared. Maybe, Ryder thought, it was just that this was a perfect night.

And Rosie was his wife.

Every time he thought that, it was like the world stopped for a moment. Like it took a pause along with him, to really honor that truth.

To remind him that it was real.

“Ryder Carey, a married man,” Wilder said later. They’d finished with dinner and were walking down the street, following the neon signs to see if they could get a little dancing in. After a few drinks with dinner, everyone had agreed it was a necessary component of any wedding night. “Who would’ve believed it?”

“Kind of feels like the pot calling the kettle black,” Ryder replied.

Up ahead of them, their wives—theirwives—were walking arm in arm, heads together, and the only thing that floated back on that wind was their laughter.

Ryder still wasn’t fully on board with the addition of the Lisle family into the picture, but he had to admit that Cat suited his brother perfectly. He felt certain that the same was true with Rosie and him. He would make sure that it was.

After all, that was why they’d exchanged vows.

“I guess I never thought I’d see the day when you actually admit that you feel something,” Wilder continued, still in that musing sort of voice.

Ryder frowned at him. “I feel all kinds of things. What are you talking about?”

“Do you?” Wilder’s voice was bland, and his look was the same. “Because I was under the impression that your response to anything emotional was to run away, find a rodeo, and try to kill yourself on the back of a bull. Between you and me, brother, you know that’s not exactly healthy, right?”

“Funny,” Ryder said, letting his drawl get a little dangerous. “I don’t recall you as any kind of healthy model of emotional regulation. I’m pretty sure they have names for serial one-night standers.”

Wilder only laughed. “And look at us now,” he said.

They made it to the bar in question. Cat and Rosie fell into a conversation with the grumpy old man sitting just inside the door with an incongruous fedora on his head—but hey, this was Livingston. Ryder found his brother looking at him with a strange expression, as the neon lit them up bright and pink.

“If she’s the one,” Wilder said quietly, “I hope she knows it.”

Ryder shook his head at him. “You were literally just at the wedding.”

“You and I are genetically the same person.” Wilder’s gaze was intent in a way that Ryder didn’t like. At all. “And I still find you impossible to read. Imagine how she feels?”

But he didn’t wait for Ryder to answer that. He didn’t seem to want an answer, and that was almost more irritating than demanding one. Ryder had to be comfortable with Wilder simply walking into the bar with the ladies, leaving Ryder to fume or follow.

He chose the latter.

And he forgot about that weird moment as the night turned into something bright and even more magical, as the four of them laughed and danced, told stories, drank a little too much, and ate enough dessert to make up for any missed wedding cake opportunities.

Much later, they all made their way across the road. They kept taking too many pictures of themselves, so that Rosie and Cat started laughing hysterically about how cold their fingers were—not that impending frostbite kept either one of them from continuing with the wedding selfies.

Ryder understood. It was pretty. They were pretty. There was snow in the street already and more coming down all around the neon signs, and when they made it into the lobby of the grand old Murray Hotel, it was like stepping back through time.

They said their goodbyes to Wilder and Cat. There were a lot of hugs, even from Wilder. And then, finally, it was time for their wedding night.

Ryder swung Rosie up into his arms and carried her up two flights of stairs. She tipped her face into his neck and laughed until he found their room, accessible only by an old-fashioned key. Once she handled the lock, he took great pleasure in sweeping her across the threshold.

And inside, the night shifted once again. Something about being in a historic hotel made the momentousness of what they’d done here seemed press in all around them.

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