Page 95 of Brands

Damn, I love her.

I give her fingers a reassuring squeeze.

Clay’s shoulders droop. “Oh, Lib. I’m sorry. I just always wanted you to have a better life than I had.” He rubs his temple, then looks at me. “Did you really buy her the dairy?”

I nod. My upper lip is already starting to swell. “I’d do anything for her.”

The music from the main room drifts over us as we all watch Clay.

Tears well in his eyes. “I should be happy, my best friend joining the family?” Then his arm raises to point at me. “Just know, if you ever break her heart, I’m gonna find you.”

“Yea, get in line.” A small smile tugs up my cheek.

Dixon laughs, with Ford joining him.

“Don’t worry, we all made him the same promise.” Dixon moves his large frame between us. “Clay, if you’d come with me? I think these two need a moment to clean up.”

Ford lingers behind. “You alright? Want me to bring you a shot of whiskey?”

I wave him off. “Nah, I’m good. Maybe once the pain sets in.”

Libby’s cool fingers stroke my jaw. “I’m sorry, Blue. I was really hoping that would have gone better.”

“Can’t blame him. I’ll probably pull out a shotgun if I ever see our daughter necking with an old scoundrel like me.” I pull her with me to the bathroom, handing her my Stetson so I can see the damage.

The nasty soaked plugs go into the toilet, so at least I’m not having two red tails hanging from my nose. It seems like the worst of the bleeding is past.

My shirt is fucked.

“Then maybe we should have all boys?” She offers me fresh tissues for my nose, her blue eyes twinkling in the reflection.

“As you can see, boys also have their own issues.” I gesture to the mirror, and the stains down my front.

But then I turn to her, pulling her into my arms. “Are you ready for forever, rebel?”

She drops my hat on my head, adjusting it with pursed lips.

Then she stills against my chest, nestling her cheek into the hollow of my neck. “I am.”

Chapter Thirty-four

Libby

My hands are stillshaking from the standoff with my dad.

But Blue’s grip is firm and steady as he pulls me through our friends and family until we get to the kitchen.

Trailing past the stainless pots and endless kegs set up with pressure valves, he pauses us at the back entrance to the stage.

It’s a tiny, dark nook with a dusty set of steps, hidden from the rest of the bar.

Much needed after the chaos of a few minutes ago.

Blue sits on the top stair, then tugs me onto his lap, and hugs me close.

“You know there’s no way I was fighting back against him?” His breath is hot over the nape of my neck. “I’d have taken whatever he wanted to lay out. I can’t imagine what he’s thinking right now.”

The tips of my fingers idly follow the curve of his arm. “I know. And thank you. I hate that the two men I love most were fighting.”

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