Page 120 of Bailey

“We can,” Reeves promised. “I know we can, wildflower.” He shifted, because he bore the bulk of her weight against his sternum, and she quickly lowered herself to lay her cheek against his chest instead.

“I think we can too,” she murmured. “Which is great, because I’m in love with you too.”

Reeves let her words enter his ears in the soft voice she’d used and grow in volume until they shouted through his soul. He chuckled then, the sound morphing into full-blown laughter a few seconds later.

He threaded his fingers through her hair, so many new things they needed to talk about. After all, he currently owned two parcels of property along the highway, each with a home—one of which he didn’t use as such at all.

She lifted her head, a smile on her face again.

Reeves matched the gesture. “What’s that look for?”

“I didn’t think anyone would ever be able to love me,” she said. A giggle followed. “And I don’t know. It feels…good. Really good.”

“I’ve never been in love before,” Reeves said. “It does feel great, like this fizzy, vibrant feeling in my whole body.”

“Or you could just be sick from your expired protein shakes.”

Reeves burst out laughing, and he tucked Bailey back into his side as she joined him. “I threw those out.”

“I don’t believe that,” she said through her laughter.

“I did,” he insisted. Reeves sobered, and he sighed happily up into the sky. “I never wanted anyone else in my life,” he said. “I thought all humans could do to one another was hurt each other.”

Bailey’s fingers slid up his chest, and she curled them around the side of his neck. “I’m sorry, Reeves. I can’t promise there still won’t be people like that in your life.”

“I know,” he said. “What’s that quote? Something about it being better to have loved and lost than to never have loved at all?”

“Sure,” Bailey said. “I’ve heard that.”

“That’s how it feels,” he said. “I had a great life before you moved in next door, but it was flat and gray. I didn’t even know I was unhappy, because I didn’t know what happiness looked like, felt like, or sounded like.”

He shifted again, sending the hammock swaying a little. “Anyway, I’m fine if you need more time to work through things. We have a lot more to talk about now.”

She lifted herself again. “We do? Like what?”

“Where we’re going to live. If we’ll keep your farm and absorb it into this one. How many horses you want.” He grinned at her. “Important things.”

She scoffed, but her eyes danced with joy. “Important things, sure.”

“Kiss me again,” he whispered, and he reached up to curl his hand behind her head, bringing her closer and kissing her like the fool in love that he was.

Reeves whistled as he stepped into one of the ballrooms at The Oaken Barrel. “Wow-wow-wow-ee,” he said. “Look at this place.” He’d put on a brand-new button-up shirt for Graham’s retirement party, so he should’ve expected to see men in suits and ties, women in gowns, and then cowboys in dark wash jeans and plaid shirts all in the same room.

And he did, and it made him smile.

Bailey tugged him to the right. “Over here,” she said, and Reeves went with her, spotting her parents only a moment later. Graham and Laney stood with Andrew and his wife, Becca, who Reeves knew still worked in the public relations department at Springside Energy.

“Hey, Daddy,” Bailey said, and she released Reeves’s hand to sink into a hug with her father. Reeves gave Laney a light hug and swept a kiss across her cheek.

“Mm, how are you, Reeves?” she asked.

“Real good, ma’am.” He smiled at her and then took in the party again. “This place is beautiful.”

“Bailey saw to every detail,” Laney said.

“That’s not true, Momma.” Bailey moved over to hug her. “You finalized everything.”

“I just approved your choices.” She grinned at her daughter and they all faced the ballroom. “The food will be good, we know that.”