Page 76 of Finding Peace
She looks like she belongs on someone’s arm in a ballroom full of chandeliers and crystal and people who’ve never known what real work feels like.
And yet—
There’s still that same fire in her eyes.
Still that same stubborn lift of her chin.
She meets our gaze from the top of the stairs, and just for a second I see it.
The hesitation.
Like she’s wondering if we’ll think it’s too much.
Too fancy.
Too different.
God.
She has no idea.
Abigail takes the first step down, the satin shifting with her movement, causing the slit to open just enough to make my stomach clench and my dick hard.
I remember the first night she showed up at the ranch. Mud on her shoes. Determination in her eyes. Hair wild from chasing after a new life.
I’d been hooked before she’d even finished her first sentence.
And now?
Now, she looks at me likethis.
Like I’m hers.
And she’s ours.
My throat tightens so hard it actually hurts.
“Holy shit,” Jasper finally mutters.
Beau just exhales. “Darlin’…”
Lincoln doesn’t say a word.
I don’t either.
Because I physically cannot.
Once she reaches the bottom step, she pauses. The light in the room catches the gold detailing in the dress—a subtle floral pattern woven through the emerald fabric. Something you might only notice the longer you look.
Andfuck.I cannot stop looking.
Her waist looks impossibly small where the bodice cinches her in. The skirt flares just enough to hint at her hips before falling in smooth, expensive lines to the floor.
She smooths her hands over the fabric—nervous.
That tiny gesture rocks me a little.
Because she has no idea what she’s doing to us.
