Page 144 of Stay Wild Darlin’

Why did the words wedge themselves in the back of my throat?

I love you.

I felt it in my bones. In my skin. In the way I knew what kind of beer he liked and how he took his fries and how he got real quiet when he was proud but didn’t know how to say it.

Still, I couldn’t say it back, and I didn’t know if that made me broken or scared.

Either way . . .

Fuck.

49

Poppy

A few weeks later

“Thank you so much for letting me do this at your barn.” I reached up to loop a streamer over one of the low branches. “I was going to have it at the house, but with Gatlin in town, Mr. Banks, Kline, Maribel, and a few of the guys from the circuit coming, we were going to be tripping over each other.”

Fable laughed beside me as she handed me more tape. “Of course. I still can’t believe Cora-belle is already one.”

I couldn’t either. Just thinking about it made my chest ache and swell all at once. I stepped back to look at the setup so far—streamers between trees, balloons tangled in the rafters of the barn, a bounce house waiting in the shade. The boys were handling the garland over the patio, and so far, no one had fallen off the ladder. That was a win.

“I’ve got the catering coming any moment,” I said, half to Fable, half to myself. “Decor’s almost done, Cora’s still napping . . . am I missing something?”

She walked over and gave my shoulder a squeeze. “This is going to be perfect. You’ve done such a good job.”

I sighed and nodded, finally letting myself believe it might actually turn out okay. “You’re right.” I looked at her. “How’s the surrogate doing? You find out the gender soon, right?”

Fable’s whole face lit up. “We’re heading to Dallas in a couple weeks. It’s starting to feel so real now.”

“I’m so happy for you.”

Fable had built her life from the ground up in Lindley. I had too, in my own messy way. Somehow, that led to the two of us hanging streamers and planning a birthday party for a little girl I was originally hired to nanny, but instead I was making googly eyes and getting tied up in the garage with the little girl’s dad.

“Dalton, the catering’s here,” I called over my shoulder. “Please have them set up in the back corner—and Beau, will you grab the big sign and her high chair?”

They both nodded, already moving into action.

I slipped through the house and into the guest room, where her Pack ’N Play was tucked in the corner. My heart softened the second I saw her blinking up at me, hair tousled, one sock already kicked off.

“Hey, birthday girl,” I whispered as I bent to scoop her up.

She was warm and still a little sleepy, head dropping to my shoulder for a second before she shifted with a tiny yawn.

Diaper change first.

She babbled happily on the changing pad, legs kicking while I wiped her clean and reached for her party outfit. The theme was Wild One—a Western-style first birthday with pink cow print, tiny boots, and everything decked out like a baby rodeo roundup.

It felt like the perfect fit because her daddy was a champion bull rider, after all.

I picked up the onesie I had made—soft white cotton with pale pink fringe on the sleeves, and sparkly lettering across the front that said: Howdy, I’m the Wild One.

The little lasso looping around the number one made me smile every time I looked at it.

I pulled it over her wiggly arms, snapping the buttons at the bottom as she giggled at me. I added a soft pink tutu with gold stars sprinkled through the mesh and a matching cowgirl hat headband with a glittery 1 glued right to the front.

“You are the cutest little cowgirl this side of Texas,” I whispered, brushing a kiss to her cheek.