Page 88 of About Bucking Time
Dallas
The second I release my wife from our first kiss and turn to walk down the aisle, two bright blue butterflies crash our wedding and take a fluttering trip down the aisle, leading the way. Shelby and I turn to look at each other with wide eyes and matching grins.
We’ve been readingShoed and Screwed by the Farrier, where both main characters have lost their parents. They keep seeing butterflies as they fall in love, which they believe represent their parents’ approval of the match. If that isn’t a sign from above that Shelby’s parents and my momma are celebrating with us, I don’t know what is.
We race down the aisle while everyone throws flower petals at us, both of us too giddy to keep a calm pace. The reception starts instantly, a potluck with everyone bringing their signature dish. Skye puts a playlist on the speakers set up around the makeshift dance floor she’s been cultivating since the moment we announced our fake engagement.
As badly as I want to dance with my wife and get those curves under my palms, I want to feed her first. No low blood sugar to ruin our big day. Not on my watch.
“Sit and eat, Sweetness. I’ll get you a plate.” I hold a chair while she gets settled. I pause to kiss her before getting her food from the line. Someone lets out a wolf whistle, so I take the hat off my head and shield us from these annoying family members of ours. I nibble on her bottom lip. “Think we could sneak off and make out in the field?”
Shelby slides her fingers through the back of my hair, and it feels so good I shiver. “I wish we could, but I guarantee we’d see Meemaw out there with her weed. Might put a damper on things.”
I cringe. “You’re probably right.”
Straightening up, I put my hat back on. Sure enough, Meemaw is nowhere to be seen. She’s either getting high or checking on her chickens. I make quick work of making up two plates and rush back to Shelby. We dig in best we can while holding hands and sneaking kisses every few minutes. The sun sets in the west as we all eat, a giant fireball as it sinks into the land that’s been in my family for generations.
I can’t believe I ever thought playing the field and remaining a bachelor was the best way to live life. Shelby and our little family are just about all I can think of these days. Which is why seeing Ridge in such a bad state about his divorce is hard. I want all my siblings to be as happy and in love as I am. Frankie winks at me from another table set up by the river, where she and Pops have their eye on Ryder for me. I give her a salute with my champagne glass. She gets it. Her and Morgan are a match made in heaven.
“Think you should go talk to him?” Shelby nudges me. She tips her head toward Ridge, where he’s standing by himself nextto the river, looking like he wants to jump into the brisk water and never get back out.
I put my arm around Shelby and bury my nose in her curls. “Nah. I’m too happy right now to deal with his grumpy ass.”
Shelby grabs my lapel and turns me halfway around. “Good, because you might need to deal with this little situation.”
She’s referring to Houston and Josie Mae. My twin is reaching for another glass of champagne at the makeshift bar set up by the food table, and his old girlfriend from high school is making a beeline to confront him. Josie Mae’s long black hair is flowing behind her in the soft wind, but her expression doesn’t look so serene. We’ve managed to keep those two separated since Houston’s been back, but it looks like our wedding is going to be the site of World War III.
We both hop to our feet and head over in their direction in time to hear the opening remarks.
“You keep flexing your hand. Did you hurt it or something?” Josie Mae asks, gesturing to Houston’s right hand.
I frown. Did Houston get hurt at the rodeo and not tell me? He sets the champagne bottle down with a clank.
“What’s it to you, Jo?” His words are a little fuzzy around the edges, telling me he’s been dipping into the champagne more than I thought—or he and Ridge are sharing a flask.
Josie Mae crosses her arms over her chest, looking quite lovely in a pale teal ankle-length dress. I know she and Shelby went shopping in Hornville to get that dress, only because Shelby went on and on about how envious she is of Jo’s slender waist. I had to tell her like ten times that I much prefer her buffet of curves. Actually, I quit telling her and took her to bed to show her. Sometimes my body speaks better than my mouth, if I do say so myself.
“It matters because if my ears have to hear one more wrong note out of you, they might start bleeding,” Josie Mae tosses back, clearly irritated with Houston.
Shelby moves to her side and whispers something in her ear. I take up Houston’s side and try to steer him over to Ridge. Maybe they can relationship trauma-bond or something over by the river. Away from me and Shelby.
Houston pushes me off of him, a strand of his shoulder-length hair falling loose from the leather strap he keeps it tied back with. Still gives me a double-take that he grew his hair out. Not sure which is worse: the long hair or the ’70s porn stache.
“I play better than you ever will,” Houston responds with the maturity level of my son. And just a bit louder than is necessary. Heads are starting to turn.
Jo gasps. “You know that’s not fair. I took lessons for years. Not my fault you have some sort of supernatural ability that other humans don’t.” She shakes her head and looks at Shelby. “He thinks the sun comes up just to hear him crow.”
I grab Houston’s arm, but he spins out of my grasp to confront Josie Mae. “You’re about as useful as tits on a bull.”
Josie Mae gasps. I step in front of Houston and push him backward. Enough is enough. He lets me move him, lifting his chin to give me the stink eye, but at least we’re walking away.
I hear Shelby muttering behind me, holding back laughter. “We’re one ‘bless your heart’ away from bloodshed.”
Pops joins us, and I point to my two brothers and lift an eyebrow. He gets the message and engages them in conversation. I sneak away at the earliest opportunity and snag my wife’s hand to pull her out onto the dance floor. Putting two fingers in my mouth, I whistle in Skye’s direction. Her head pops up, and it only takes her a second to get my meaning. The song blaring from the speaker changes to “We Danced.”
Shelby’s head tips back, a knowing smile on her lips. Her body melts into mine while I wrap my arms around her. The Oklahoma sky is painted in a kaleidoscope of colors, turning acres of plain dirt into a legacy where love can blossom and root down deep. There’s no place I’d rather be than right here, dancing with my girl under the darkening sky, just like her parents used to in the kitchen all those years ago. We took the long route to get here, but we finally made it.
As a wedding present, I finally took the napkin engagement pact out of my wallet and had it framed. It now sits proudly on the wall in our bedroom, a promise fulfilled.
I lean down and pluck a kiss from her lips, wondering if our babies will have her blue eyes or my cleft chin. Her copper highlights or my sun-kissed strands. Her curves or my muscles. Whatever they look like, I hope to God they have her brain, my family heritage, and our combined heart.
“I love you, Shelby Gamble,” I whisper against her lips.
I feel her grin. “About bucking time, cowboy.”
