Rough Country (Tannen Boys 3)

“I love you too.” I murmur the words against her lips, unwilling to stop kissing her but needing to tell her again and again.

After a minute, or hell, maybe it’s several, Carrie clears her throat. “Not to break up the lovefest, but obviously, you’re welcome to stay for dinner, Bobby. And we don’t leave for Great Falls until tomorrow, so I’ll get the guest room fixed up for you.”

Carrie brushes past us, humming a tune that catches my ear. You Are My Sunshine, one of my mom’s favorites. It feels like a sign that she’s here too and approves of what I’m doing. More likely, it’s just a common, popular song, but I prefer to think it’s Mom.

“Guest room?” I ask Willow, giving her a cocky grin.

She gives me back one of those soft smiles, and I almost gasp at how beautiful it is. I’m going to spend my whole life making her give me those, saving each and every one like shiny treasures in my pocket. Proof of a woman well-loved and a life well-lived.

“Mom is surprisingly old-fashioned about that.” Willow shrugs.

“But not the mauling I just laid down on her daughter in her front room?” I growl out on a laugh.

Willow’s eyes go wide, the gray popping behind her lenses. “Oh, my God, she saw all of that!” She buries her face in her hands, but not before I see the blush on her cheeks.

I tilt her chin back up with a light touch of my finger. “I don’t give a shit, sweetheart. I’ll tell your Mom, your Dad, Hank, the whole damn town how I feel about you. You want me to spray paint it on a water tower or something? I’ll do it. Write a song? Done. Name it, because I’m proud to say you’re mine.”

Her blush has turned heated and she meets my eyes boldly now. “And you’re mine.”

“Fuck yeah, I am.”

Dinner is . . . weirdly quiet. I mean, compared to one of our family dinners, most folks’ meals probably are.

Carrie and Wayne sit at the head and foot of the table, Oakley and his wife, Madison, on one side, and Willow and me on the other. For six people, the conversation is easy and shockingly, everyone takes turns speaking. Like I said, weirdly quiet when only one person talks at a time instead of us Tannens and Bennetts chattering over each other like impatient toddlers.

They ask me the standard questions, and though I’ve never been serious enough with anyone to do the ‘meet the family’ routine, I think I ace them, mostly because I love Willow so they’re generously forgiving of my lack of slick, practiced answers.

Wayne asks a lot of questions about the soil composition of the farm, and I tell him how we prep for different crops in different fields, rotating them to keep the soil nutrient-dense. “I’d like to see that, maybe run a few tests if you don’t mind?”

I shrug, worried more about keeping my fork moving because I’m so hungry. “I’ll have to check with Mama Louise. It’s her land now, but I don’t think she’d mind.” If Mama Louise says no, I’ll promise to weed her entire garden for a year to get a yes because I need to make nice with Willow’s dad.

He gives me a nod, looking ready to go right now, and I think I’m on his good side.

Carrie tells Willow about a new exhibit that begins at her gallery, and they talk about composition, lines, and the ‘transformative power of space’. I have a moment of panic, not understanding anything they’re talking about, but when I look at Wayne, Oakley, and Madison, they seem as lost as I am but are still paying close attention.

They’re all passionate people with their own interests, but they find it in their hearts to support each other, listen to one another, and love their individual obsessions because they’re family. I can see where Willow gets her kind heart. It was cultivated right here with these people.

“Oh, can I show Bobby your gallery collection in the hallway?” Carrie asks Willow.

Willow smiles, hopping up from the table. “Yeah! Actually, I’m going to go get my yearbook too, show him where it all really started.”

“Can I see the doughnut-baby picture too?” I ask, and Willow laughs loud and bright at the memory of our first conversation. Our happiest moments, my getting Betty and her photographing a lady’s doughnut baby for her first photography paycheck.

It feels like I met you yesterday. It feels like I’ve known you forever.

Carrie smiles, getting up from the table. “Let me help you find that yearbook. I can’t remember what shelf I put it on.”

They head down the hallway but don’t go too far, and I overhear Carrie quietly tell Willow, “I’m so proud of you. You went out there for Hank, fixed that, and made a whole new life for yourself. It suits you. I can see how much you’ve grown while you’ve been in Great Falls, and I think that man in there has something to do with it. You’re bigger, bolder somehow. You always were, but it was like you put a lampshade on your brightness. But now, you’re shining bright, sharing that heart you’ve always had.”