Page 16 of Born Wild

“Cassie,” Mr. Higgins focuses on his daughter, “Is this what you want?”

“I do, Daddy. I love him.”

Her father nods, then returns his gaze to mine. “That’s all I need to know. You have our blessing.”

“Thank you, sir.” I exhale and all the tension releases from my body. Shit. That was easier than I expected.

“Okay, then.” Cassie’s mother clasps her hands together, her face beaming with excitement. “When are we planning the wedding? The summer maybe? Or would you two prefer a longer engagement?”

“Yes.” Her father nods. “Let’s talk dates so we can book the church.”

“Next month.” Cassie’s smile doesn’t waiver as she reaches for my hand and gives it a squeeze. This is the moment she’s been dreading. The one she can no longer avoid. “We don’t want to wait to start our life together.”

I squeeze her hand back. I hope she knows how brave she is. How much I admire her strength.

“I see,” Cassie’s father says.

Her mother is no longer smiling, her gaze zeroed in on Cassie’s belly.

“Mr. Higgins, Mrs. Higgins, I know this is rushed, but I love your daughter and I promise to take care of her and give her the life she deserves. The Wilder ranch will go to me when my father retires, and I can provide a good life for us there.”

Her father meets my gaze. “I appreciate you doing right by the situation, son.”

“I will always do right by Cassie. I promise you that.” It’s a promise I intend to keep until the day I die.

7

CASSIE

The next few weeks pass in a blur. My mother pretends I’m not pregnant and busies herself with preparations for a small wedding ceremony with family at the end of the month. But I see her sidelong glances. She’s worried I’m going to show. She’s worried what people will think.

God, if she only knew the truth.

The worst part of this last week is not seeing Tim. He was on a cattle drive and when he returned, he needed to put in some extra-long days at the ranch. I don’t think I realized how much I’ve come to rely on him. His friendship. His compassion.

Our conversations are something I look forward to at the end of the day, and without them I feel lost. I also can’t stop thinking about the way he kissed me in the barn.

I’ve had my fair share of kisses. None of them compare. It must be the connection we share, and each night when I lie down to sleep I can’t help but think about how it will be when we’re together.

His rough hands caressing my skin.

His mouth on my body.

His hardness rocking into my center.

I close my eyes and pretend it’s him when I touch myself and bring my body to sweet release. I almost feel shameful about the number of times I’ve imagined it. And for wondering how long I will have to wait to be with him intimately.

It’s late Sunday afternoon the next time his truck rumbles down the driveway. Like some kind of Pavlovian response, my entire mood shifts at the sound and I practically run out to the porch to greet him.

By the way he hustles out of the truck and picks me up in a hug, he’s excited to see me, too. “How’s my beautiful fiancée?”

“Better now that you’re here.” I squeeze him tight, then step back to drink him in. His normally clean jaw is rough with scruff. “Are you growing a beard?”

“No.” He smiles, his gaze dropping as he rubs the stubble. “Didn’t want to waste the time shaving.”

“Oh.” I grin. “I kinda like it.”

“Yeah?” he kisses my cheek. “If you want, I’ll leave it.”

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