Papa Banks pulled back, hands on my shoulders, eyes gleaming. “I’ve watched a lotta rides, kid. That one was different. You fucking owned it.”
Beau came up beside him then, dust on his jeans, rope burn on his fingers, and a grin so wide it hurt to look at.
“I always knew this day was coming,” he said, clapping my back with a weight only a brother could carry. “You were never riding in anyone’s shadow.”
Covered in sweat and dirt, my muscles still buzzing from the ride, I realized something that hit harder than any bull ever could: This was my family.
Not the one I came from, but the one I found. The one that chose me. The one I chose back.
I didn’t even get a full breath in before Fable was on me—arms flung around my shoulders, hugging me so hard it knocked me back a step.
“You did it,” she laughed against my chest. “God, Dalton, that was the ride of a lifetime.”
I held onto her, letting the adrenaline settle, my heart still racing.
Harleigh followed close behind, slipping in with a smaller hug and that crooked grin of hers.
“You rode that bastard like he owed you money,” she murmured.
I let out a rough breath, laughing because it was all starting to hit. The win. The buckle.
I looked past them, and everything else faded. Everything blurred into the background like a spotlight had narrowed straight ahead.
Because there they were.
My daughter.
My girl.
Cora was tucked in Poppy’s arms, her little face lit up beneath the brim of her summer hat, her shirt stretched across her belly with My daddy is always my number 1 in bold red letters.
Poppy . . . Jesus.
I started walking—straight toward them—because no matter what the scoreboard said, no matter how heavy that buckle was or how many people screamed my name, they were the real prize.
Cora reached for me before I even got to them, and I scooped her up, lifting her high above my head, her giggles cutting through the background noise. She squealed and kicked her feet, her hat nearly falling off as she clung to my thumbs.
“Hi, sweetie,” I murmured, pressing a kiss to her cheek as I brought her down into my arms, holding her close against my chest.
I looked at Poppy, and everything else stopped.
Her amber eyes held more gold in them. Her brown hair was braided in two long ropes down her back.
“You did it,” she squealed, breathless, and grabbed hold of my waist.
I didn’t say a word. I didn’t kiss her or even move.
She furrowed her brows, tilting her head slightly. “Dalton?”
That’s when I realized I hadn’t touched her. Hadn’t done anything but look.
Still, I couldn’t stop.
It all rushed out of me like a breath I’d been holding for months.
“I love you. I love you so much. I don’t need to hear you say it back. I— God, Poppy— I love you so fucking much it hurts.”
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