Page 203 of Beat of Love
Apparently, someday was now.
“You sure?” Rafferty asked, voice low. “It’s a … lot.” And he wasn’t just talking about monetary value. Blaze Canyon Stables was Sullivan’s childhood dream.
Sullivan’s smile was crooked, but steady. “My life is with Marielle now.”
Rafferty huffed out a breath, shaking his head. No words. Just a solid clasp of hands between brothers.
“It’s time, Dad!” Connor rushed over, face bright with excitement, dressed in black pants and an ivory button-down — just like his dad.
His chest tightened at the sight of the boy. Seven weeks on the ranch had changed Connor. The boy stood straight, eyes bright, shoulders squared — like a son who finally knew he belonged.
Rafferty shot a quick look at Pa, noting the proud look on the face of the man who raised him. He swallowed hard, emotion thick in his throat, and turned his attention back to Connor.
His son. Not by blood, but by circumstance.
And choice.
One he would never regret.
“You got the rings, son?”
Connor nodded and pulled the familiar green velvet pouch from his pocket. “Uh-huh.” The soft clink of metal on metal was unmistakable.
Rafferty smiled. “Good man.”
And his family and guests walked over, filling the chairs.
Aidan and Cecelia, Ti and Vinnie herding a toddling Jamie along.
Essie and Max, Sofie asleep against his shoulder.
Siobhan and Daniel, each carrying a squirming child.
Ma and Pa, Mammy and Marielle.
Jo, big and round at six months pregnant with Kurt and his mom, Sandy.
A row of cousins — Caitlin, Grace, Blake, Ethan, Kara, and Frankie and Josh, Sandy’s foster kids. Dax couldn’t get leave — he was saving it for the royal wedding.
Aunt Marlene and Uncle Fred. The guys from King Security.
A scattering of ranch workers.
Dr. Sykes, their officiant, took his position beneath the arbor.
“That’s my cue,” Sullivan whispered and walked to join Marielle.
Jackie slipped into her seat, giving him a wink.
Essie rose and moved to the mic. She lifted the guitar, slung the strap over her shoulder, and gave it a quick strum. The soft, familiar chords of Lonestar’s “Amazed” floated out across the clearing, and she started to sing.
Heart pounding, Rafferty stepped forward, Connor at his side.
But then—
The unmistakable scent of roses curled around him.
He glanced around. No rose blooms in sight.
