Chute Yeah (The Valentine Boys 3)

“How did it go?” I asked, looking at his thumb.

He gave me a scrunched-up look before saying, “It went. Your donkey decided to go a visitin’ twice. And it was after the second time that Callum and I decided to just leave him there.”

I blinked.

Then blinked again.

“They’re okay with that?” I asked.

I mean, Banks had said as much, but I hadn’t expected the same from Callum.

“Yep,” he agreed. “And I think you should consider making it a permanent thing. They said they didn’t care if he was over there or not, and I think he actually enjoys himself a little better over at the Valentine place.”

I did, too.

At least with one Valentine in particular.

“Well,” I said. “I guess I’ll discuss it with them when I head over to their job site tomorrow. Any other problems?”

He shook his head.

“Actually, I made it over to all of the active sites.” He grinned sheepishly. “And I’m moving back home.”

I blinked.

“You’re what?” I asked, unsure if I’d heard him right.

“I’m moving back home,” he repeated. “I’ll still come over when you leave on Friday to check the animals. But…” He blew out a breath. “I miss being in my own place. Your momma…”

I suddenly understood.

My place was missing everything about my mom. There was nothing here. No memories. No knick-knacks. No nothing.

I smiled softly at him, then walked forward and into his arms, pressing a kiss to his weathered cheek.

“We’ll talk about you driving tomorrow…” I started, but he interrupted me.

“I’m off all my pain pills,” he said. “I can’t do the computer or write yet, so I’ll still need you, but this last week has shown me that I’m more than capable of taking care of myself.”

I pursed my lips in thought.

“In fact, after you cook me dinner, I’m headed home.” He grinned. “Miss my bed.”

My eyes softened.

“Okay,” I said. “What do you want?”

It was after dinner was consumed, after things were cleaned and tidied, after my father left, and after I started to do the books for the week, that I texted Banks.

Candy: What are you doing?

Banks: Sitting in the living room, drinking a beer, contemplating sneaking into your room tonight so I don’t have to sleep alone. Does your bedroom window have a lock? Does the bed creak?

I snorted.

Candy: No, my bedroom doesn’t have a lock on the window. I use a metal bar. I can easily lift it up. And yes, my bed squeaks. It’s about fifty years old. I got it at a garage sale for a song.

Banks: What about the floor?

I would have laughed had he not been one hundred percent serious.

Candy: That creaks too. But just FYI. My dad decided to go home. He said he misses his house.

Banks: Be there in ten.

He wasn’t at my house in ten. He was at my place in five.

When I opened the door and saw him standing there still wearing the same thing I’d watched him get dressed in that morning, I smiled.

“You were fast,” I said, voice husky.

“I’d been thinking about coming over since I dropped you off this morning,” he admitted. “I was trying to come up with a viable excuse to see you that wouldn’t get me killed.”

I rolled my eyes.

“My dad knows we’re together,” I said. “He’s not dumb.”

“No,” he agreed. “But I also don’t have to rub the fact that I’m doing his daughter in his face, either.”

“It’s my house,” I pointed out.

I mean, I wouldn’t have done anything with my father under my roof, but I could have seeing as I made the mortgage payments and my father didn’t.

“True,” he agreed. “But one day, when I marry you, I want him to like me.”

My eyes widened.

“You… marry me?” I sputtered, the spit drying up so fast in my mouth that I found it hard to speak. “What?”

His grin was infectious. But my head was spinning, and I didn’t know what to say in response to his words.

He had to be joking… right?

But before I could ask him to clarify his statement, his mouth was on mine.

“I missed you,” he whispered between kisses, his bearded jaw rubbing deliciously along my skin. “Like a lot.”

I licked his bottom lip, then pulled it into my mouth, sucking lightly.

His breath hissed out as he squeezed my hips to hold me in place.

“I missed you, too,” I admitted. “I was already contemplating coming to visit you before bed.”

His growl was a low rumble that made my nipples tighten.

“Glad that we got this figured out then,” he admitted. “‘Because I want to sleep with you tonight. I was a little worried we wouldn’t get any sleep since we’ve become so accustomed to sleeping with each other.”

That was true. Granted, it’d only been a few days of us sleeping next to one another, but it’d been enough to show me what I’d been missing—my very own living, breathing cuddle cowboy.