Page 20 of Buck Me, Cowboy

Amos stays at my side, his hand resting on the small of my back with possessive warmth. His pride radiates from every gesture, every look he gives me.

“I’m so proud of you,” he murmurs against my ear as photographers capture the moment. “Your grandfather would be over the moon.”

“I can’t believe this is real.” I lean into his solid warmth, grounding myself in his presence while my world spins with possibility.

“It’s real. You did this, Rebecca. You and that incredible recipe and the passion you put into every stir.”

The business cards feel substantial in my palm as I study the representatives still waiting patiently for my attention. Each one represents a different path forward, a different way to honor Grandpa’s legacy while building something sustainable for my future.

“What do you think?” I ask Amos quietly.

“I think you should talk to all of them. See what they’re offering, what they understand about preserving your grandpa’s recipe and legacy.” His thumb traces small circles on my back. “But Rebecca, whatever you decide, I’ll support you completely.”

The certainty in his voice makes my chest tight with emotion. This morning, we were navigating misunderstandings and hurt feelings, and I thought it was over. Now he’s talking about our future like it’s a given, like whatever paths I choose, he’ll be walking them beside me.

As the crowd begins to disperse, I stand in the middle of the fairgrounds holding trophies that represent everything I’ve worked toward. But looking at Amos beside me, his hazel eyes warm with pride and promise, I realize the greatest victory isn’t the competition results.

It’s finding the man who loves me, will go out of his way to support me, and vow to build a life together.

“Ready to celebrate?” Amos asks, his hand sliding down to capture mine.

“More than ready.”

As we walk back toward the hotel, trophies balanced in my free arm and business cards tucked safely in my pocket, I’m floating on cloud nine. Everything I wanted has fallen into place, but more than that, I have Amos at my side.

Amos kicksthe hotel room door closed behind us and immediately pulls me into his arms with an urgency that quickens my pulse. His mouth finds mine in a kiss that takes my breath away.

“I couldn’t have done it without you.” I grab his shirt and pull him closer. “This whole thing started with you helping me with that stuck cart.”

“Best cart malfunction of my life.”

When he lifts me off my feet and spins me around, I laugh against his lips, giddy with success and overwhelming love for this man who’s changed everything about my future. The hotel room spins around us, but I know I’m safe in his arms.

“I love hearing you laugh like that.” He sets me down on the bed gently, his hands framing my face with loving tenderness. “Like you’re absolutely fearless.”

“You make me feel fearless.”

The words are true in ways that surprise me. A week ago, I was terrified of trusting again after the Kinwood Foods betrayal. Now I’m planning a future with a cowboy, two trophies, and multiple offers for distribution contracts.

“Rebecca.” The way he says my name, soft and wondering, makes heat pool low in my belly. “What we talked about this morning, about this being real—”

“It’s real.” I reach up to trace the line of his jaw, feeling the slight roughness of stubble against my fingertips.

His eyes darken with something deeper than desire. “I want to show you how real this is for me. How much you mean to me.”

When his mouth captures mine, heat spirals through my veins like liquid fire. His lips move against mine with deliberate slowness, each sweep of his tongue sending tremors through my core. The taste of him—coffee and something essentially masculine—makes me dizzy with want.

My fingers fumble with his shirt buttons, the small plastic discs slipping against my trembling fingers. When the cotton finally gives way, warm skin meets my palms. His heartbeat thunders beneath my fingertips, rapid and strong.

“So beautiful,” he murmurs, rough palms gliding beneath my blouse. Heat blooms everywhere he touches, his fingertips tracing fire along my ribs.

Cool air kisses my skin as he slides my shirt over my head. His sharp intake of breath makes my nipples tighten, awareness crackling between us like electricity.

His lips burn a path down my throat, each kiss sending shockwaves through my entire being. When his teeth graze thatsensitive spot where neck meets shoulder, my back arches off the bed, a gasp tearing from my throat.

Gentle pressure guides me backward until soft cotton cradles my spine. Afternoon sunlight streams across my skin, warming everywhere his gaze lingers.

“You’re staring,” he says, and that crooked smile makes my heart skip.

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