The Cowboy's Texas Rose (The Dixons of Legacy Ranch 1)

He made quick work of showering and picking out a fresh shirt, though spent way too much time selecting a nicer pair of boots. And dammit, did Rose like flowers? Should he show up with a bottle of wine, or something, for dinner? Was this a sit-down fancy dinner? Or a late just-wrapped-up-work-for-the-day meal? Or worse, an excuse to put him front and center for an interrogation from an angry father who perceived his daughter had been wronged?

He ripped down his gravel ranch road leading to the solar-powered gates that spit him out onto the back highway, opting to take his shiny Dixon Cattle truck, and after a short stop at Porter’s, hit the highway as the sun inched lower in his rearview mirror, as the road stretched out endlessly toward the dimming eastern horizon, until at long last, he approached a ranch gate, a metalwork of two billies interlocked at the horns overhead upon the lintel.

His heart raced, bracing himself for the worst, hoping for a chance to finally apologize and know she’d heard him. In the distance was the main house, a single-story, light-brick, ranch-style house perched about a mile away, a large, flat goat shed behind it. Dust rose up behind him as he crunched down the gravel, trying not to race and worry Hector Morales that Toby Dixon was a road maniac.

And there she was in a fluttery sundress with an old thrift-store cardigan drifting off a shoulder that reminded him of a Nirvana video, her hair piled up in that cute, messy knot he’d grown to love, where her curls popped out endearingly, in the driveway talking to her father. Sage walked up and down a long fence delineating a pasture where goats dotted the dry expanse, around a wide, circular trough, dragging a stick along it to thump each fence post.

Toby pulled up behind a sporty Mazda hatchback with, as he drew closer, a KEEP AUSTIN WEIRD sticker and a Duran Duran one among others decorating the back end.

His lips lifted briefly. The car suited Rose’s personality. He shoved the gear into Park, feeling her eyes on him, grabbed the single stem yellow rose off the passenger seat, and finally gazed back at her. She looked confused and turned to her father to twitter about something, though her father simply stood there in his cowboy hat, his hands jammed into his pockets and a satisfied smile softening his face. Had her father not told her he was coming?

As he jumped out of the truck, boots crunching, she turned once more to look at him. Her eyes sagged with fatigue, yet still, the hazel glowed in the waning orange sun dipping below the western horizon, and she fell silent. Evening insects filled the silence with their chorus of chatter as they hovered over the mesquite and prickly pears around them. He took in her bare legs, ending in a pair of low-top Converses that looked like they’d kicked around Austin a lot, up her body to her face as if a starving man unable to comprehend a feast laid out before him, unsure if he could partake or not.

God, she was so pretty, and the ache in his chest that had embedded itself there since her hasty departure and flared whenever he thought about how much he missed her flared so intensely now, he had to take a deep breath to ease it.

“Hi,” she finally said, her fingers working the loose sweater threads on her sleeves, a nervous shake to her voice.

He couldn’t speak, just stared at the woman he wanted, too afraid to ask her anything for fear he wouldn’t like the answer.

He chewed his cheek, mustering a scratchy reply. “Hey. Uh, your dad invited me.”

And like a dumbass, he felt his brow contort to withhold his own hurt. Get it together, man. He extended his arm, handing her the peace offering of the yellow rose. Hesitantly, she reached out and took it.

“I…”

Her voice trailed off. It seemed as if she was just as unsure as he was. Unsure about his desire for her? Hell, the woman had another thing coming. She took a deep breath and restarted, fingering the rose petals so she didn’t have to look at him.

“I should have given you a chance to explain. About the text. I caught Howard admitting to some serious things and realized that I’d made a mistake, leaving so fast. I was just hurt by what other guys have done and assumed the worst about you because it’s easier to push someone away than let them in—” Her breath caught, but he let her regain her train of thought. “It just hurt so badly to think you’d do what they did.” Her eyes flitted around him, unable to look him in the face as moisture glistened on her eyelids. “Because I fell in love with you, and I’ve barely been able to breathe, missing you—”

He didn’t realize that he’d moved when he grabbed Rose and crushed her to his chest, stumbling her backward to collide with the side of her car. He cushioned her impact as his lips dropped to hers and their heads together tipped his Stetson off. The rose in her grip brushed against his nape as her other hand clenched him. Her breath caught, and he swallowed it as he faintly remembered her father standing nearby and refrained from plundering her mouth with his tongue, feeling such desperation and relief course through him. Her fingers dug into his neck, then slid around his waist so suddenly his whole body shuddered with delight as she returned his fervent kiss. This was his woman. He wanted her in his bed, at his side, and in his heart. He wanted to be a dad to her son, if she’d let him, and make more babies someday, if the time was right. He wanted a family and to hang up his bachelor spurs for good. He wanted her.

He ripped his lips from hers and trailed rough kisses across her cheek to her ear as he gripped her hard.

“You were telling the truth,” she breathed. “I know that now. I want…” His hand slid over her shoulders, down to her waist. “I want to say I’m sorry for not trusting you. I want a second chance—”

“You got it,” he ground out, kissing her hard again at the same time, so that the words came out in a mashed mumble. He clenched her hair and held her to him, resting his forehead to hers. “I’m sorry, too. I’m sorry you ever had reason to doubt me. But I want you to have some faith in me, okay? I ain’t those other guys, and I don’t want to live in their shadow. You got no reason to distrust me, ’cause I fell ass over head for you like a damned tumbleweed the first time I heard you laugh at Stella’s, and I don’t ever want to go back to the way things were before that morning.”

She was nodding, gripping him, when her father cleared his throat. Toby jumped back, raking his hand through his hair, certain that if he’d been invited over for dinner before, he was going to get his ass handed to him now for mauling Rose in front of him. But Mr. Morales was grinning, like he’d known this would happen after talking to Rose on her way here.

He nodded once, then turned over his shoulder. “Sage!” he called. “Mister Dixon came to visit!”

The boy looked up, and a smile lit his face. The stick dropped from his grip, and he began running toward them.

Rose and her father stared wide-eyed at each other, then at him. “He’d rather see you than finish tapping the fence first. He didn’t even do that when I got here. He had to finish the whole length before he ran over to say hi. That’s huge. You are so in with him.”

Sage, still running, collided with Toby’s leg. He grinned, scooping up the boy to embrace him, who wrapped his arms around his neck.

“Hey, it’s my wingman. What’s goin’ on, buddy?”

The boy rested his cheek on his shoulder, then wiggled to get down just as quickly as he’d gotten there, encouraging a round of chuckling. “Do you want to see Peanut Butter?”

Toby glanced at Rose and cocked an amused eyebrow. “More peanut butter?”

“The goat,” she said, leveling a playfully scolding look at him.

“Ah yeah, got it.” He chuckled, returning his attention to the boy. “Let’s go say hi to Peanut Butter. Been awful quiet out at the Legacy since she and Jelly left.”

He scooped up his hat and plopped it onto Sage’s head, which tipped over his eyes, and took up Sage’s offered hand, enveloping the little fingers in his. Rose took Sage’s other hand, and they began walking to the path that circumvented the house and a workshop and tool shed hidden from view from the road.