Page 25 of The Rancher's Runaway Bride
“And you’re impossibly overdressed,” I tease, gesturing to his shirt and jeans, even though he looks sinfully good. “Couldn’t wrangle up a tie?”
His lips twitch into a smirk. “Figured you’d appreciate the view.”
Zane Warner, our acting officiant, clears his throat, drawing our attention, and the ceremony begins. Carson stands proudly as the ring bearer, holding onto Duke’s collar and beaming up at me like I’ve hung the moon. My heart clenches, full and brimming as I glance between him and Cal, the two pieces of my soul I never knew I needed until now.
The vows come naturally, every word spilling from my lips like they’ve been waiting to be spoken my entire life. When Cal speaks his, his voice rough but steady, I feel tears prick my eyes.
“You’re not just my wife,” he says, his gaze never leaving mine. “You’re my best decision, my forever. You’ve given me and Carson something I didn’t think we’d ever have—a home.”
When he slips the ring onto my finger, his hands are steady, his touch lingering just enough to make me shiver. And when Zane finally declares us husband and wife, Cal doesn’t waste a second. His arms wrap around me, pulling me flush against him as his lips crash onto mine, claiming me in front of everyone.
The crowd erupts into cheers and whistles, but all I hear is the steady beat of his heart against mine and the warmth of his kiss, solidifying everything I’ve ever wanted in this life.
The reception is as lively as I expected with Cal’s friends—Ridge, Zane, Slate, Grady, Fox, and Liam—leading the charge.They toast to Cal, their words filled with teasing banter and heartfelt sincerity.
“To the grumpiest cowboy in Devil’s Peak finally being tamed,” Ridge announces, raising his glass. “Layla, you’ve done the impossible.”
The crowd roars with laughter, and I shoot Ridge a playful glare. “Tamed? More like upgraded.”
Cal chuckles beside me, his arm draped possessively around my waist. He leans in, his lips brushing my ear as he whispers, “Don’t let them fool you. You’ve got me wrapped around your finger.”
I glance up at him, grinning. “Good.”
The night is filled with laughter and love, the barn alive with music and dancing. Carson steals the show on the makeshift dance floor, pulling me and Cal into a silly, uncoordinated routine that leaves all three of us breathless with laughter. Duke lounges nearby, his tail wagging lazily as he watches his family—our family.
As the night winds down, I step outside to catch my breath, the cool mountain air a welcome contrast to the warmth of the barn. The lake shimmers under the moonlight, and I can’t help but feel like I’m living in a dream.
Cal finds me moments later, his boots crunching softly against the gravel. He wraps his arms around me from behind, pulling me against his chest as we gaze out at the water.
“Regretting it already?” he teases, his voice low and rough.
I laugh, leaning into him. “Not for a second.”
He presses a kiss to the top of my head, his hold tightening. “Good. Because you’re stuck with me now.”
I turn in his arms, my hands resting on his chest as I look up at him. “And you’re stuck with me. Think you can handle that?”
His smirk softens into something deeper, his fingers brushing my cheek. “I’ll spend the rest of my life trying.”
And as he kisses me under the twinkling fairy lights and the stars above, I know with absolute certainty that I’m exactly where I’m meant to be.
Second Epilogue
Cal–one year later
The porch is my favorite place on the ranch, especially at sunset. The Phantom River glimmers below, the fading light making the surface shimmer like it’s lined with gold. Tonight, the scene is quieter than usual, but it hums with a deeper kind of noise—the kind that seeps into your bones and reminds you what you’re living for.
Layla is sitting in the rocking chair beside me, wrapped in one of my old flannels and a thick blanket. She holds Cameron, our tiny, pink-faced miracle, cradled in her arms. Her soft humming drifts on the breeze, a tune she’s made up just for our daughter.
Carson is sprawled at my feet, his face pressed against Duke’s back. The dog’s tail wags lazily, keeping rhythm with the slow rock of Layla’s chair.
“You’re gonna spoil her,” I say, my voice gruff but teasing as I watch Layla adjust the blanket around Cameron for the third time.
Her eyes flash up to mine, amusement dancing there. “And you’re not?”
“Not even close,” I lie, unable to hide my smirk. Truth is, I’d been carrying Cameron around in the baby carrier all afternoon, showing her every inch of the ranch as if she could understand a word of it.
“Liar,” she counters, grinning.
