Page 70 of Hope and Country

We broke apart, panting, resting our foreheads together, both of us radiating enough sexual energy to put my house on fire. When our heavy breathing decelerated to normal, I spoke again. “Now turn around, I’ll zip you up.”

Today, Devon wore a simple black dress that hugged her curves. It contrasted with her blonde locks and made it impossible for me to look elsewhere.

She twirled around, and it reminded me of the night we met. The glint in her eyes had returned. It took almost a month, but now it was there all the time. And it lit up even brighter when her gaze landed on me. Which made every one of my cells long for her.

“You look fabulous. Are you ready?”

“Yeah, let’s do this. Let’s face our fears together.” We intertwined our fingers and halted on the front porch. Devon’s grip tightened. She inhaled. And exhaled. Inhaled. And exhaled. The entire time, my eyes trained on her, watching her being brave.

“You okay?” I asked, bringing our joined hands to my lips and kissing her knuckles.

She breathed out a whispered yes.

Devon swallowed, firmed her back, and stepped forward with a firm resolve.

On her tiptoes, she kissed my cheek and patted Hope’s head with her free hand.

“You guys are all I’ll ever need. Let’s do this,” she said, echoing my own words.

Hand in hand, we left the house—Devon’s second time since the night she came here all banged up—and my heart felt much lighter as my woman walked beside me. And this time, she was the one injecting me doses of strength by being on my side. And making me face my own demons.

“You did it,” I whispered in her ear as I closed the door once she settled in. “I’m so proud of you, baby.”

“I love ya, Riley. With every fiber of my heart. Thank you. For believing in me. And loving me with no conditions.”

I kissed her one last time before setting Hope behind my seat.

* * *

I inhaled through my mouth as I knocked on the front door of my parents’ mansion. Money could buy lots of things, but I preferred a low-key life over the extravaganza I was born into.

The only expense I splurged on, in the last year, was my car.

Lodged in a dead-end street, my parents had football players and other country music stars as neighbors. My childhood home looked the same as it did all these years. A cobblestone path leading to the front door. White columns on each side. Bushes trimmed to perfection and a stable on the left.

My mother, dressed in a dark purple suit, a pearl necklace around her neck, with her strawberry-blonde hair tied in a low ponytail, opened the door. Her eyes darted to Devon before they even reached me.

She cupped her heart as she looked at my girlfriend, standing there, her hand firmly anchored to mine. “Oh, Riley darling, she’s beautiful. I’m glad to finally meet the woman sharing your life. What’s your name, dear?”

Devon’s eyes rounded. I squeezed her hand, hoping she’d understand I had nothing to do with my mother’s meddling.

That stupid sixth sense again.

Oh, yes. And that microchip.

My throat closed. Then it relaxed.

My eyes met my woman’s. We shared a glance filled with amusement. And love. True love.

“Mama, this is Devon. Devon, this is my mother, Robin.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Burns. Riley told me so much about you.”

“Call me Robin.” My mother tugged at my girl’s hand and pulled her into the house. “I hope Riley is nice to you. Call it a mother’s intuition, but I can already tell you bring him joy. That smile you see on his face, it looks genuine now. And I’ve been waiting a long time to see this boy of mine happy. And in love.”

I rolled my eyes. Please, Mama, stop embarrassing me.

“Your son has been nothing but amazing to me, Robin. You raised him well; you should be proud. He’s a good man. The best I know.”