Page 86 of Cowboy Elite 2: Mike

"Understood. We'll be in touch." Attorney Chen's expression shifted, became almost satisfied. "I should mention that Russo's legal team tried to negotiate a plea deal this morning. Offered to plead guilty to manslaughter in exchange for fifteen years. We refused. Your testimony makes our case airtight, Ms. Langford. He's going away for life, and there's nothing his lawyers can do about it. His entire organized crime syndicate has collapsed."

Liv's breath caught. "It's really over."

"It's really over. For what it's worth, you're free. Mr. Russo will never threaten you or anyone else again. You get to live your life now. Live well."

The screen went dark.

Mike pulled her into his arms, and she buried her face in his shoulder.

She was free. Free to make whatever choice her heart desired, live whatever life she chose. And her heart chose this man, this sexy, amazing cowboy chef who made her feel invincible and incredibly loved.

Now she just needed some time alone with him. To make sure this burning desire, this choice, wasn’t one-sided. She thought she knew the answer. But she needed the words.

Neighbors stopped by throughout the afternoon. Not because they'd been called, but because this was what community did. When one of their own had been in danger, when the crisis had passed, you showed up. You brought food. You offered quiet support.

When the crowd had thinned and the house had settled into a comfortable quiet, Mike went in search of Liv, found her in the kitchen putting away the last of the casseroles. He needed some answers. He wanted her to stay, wanted to make her his in every sense of the word. And he was pretty sure she wanted that as well. But now that her safety wasn’t an issue, would she change her mind? She had family, friends and a business back in New York.

He slid his arms around her from behind. "Hey," he said softly.

She turned, a smile lighting her whole face. "Hey yourself."

"Want to get out of here for a bit? Just us?"

"I thought you’d never ask."

They walked in comfortable silence, following the path that led away from the main house toward the old section of the property where the original homestead had stood. Nothing remained now except crumbling stone foundations and wildflowers reclaiming what humans had built.

The late afternoon sun turned everything golden. Mesquite trees cast long shadows. Somewhere a meadowlark sang. The air smelled like earth and growth and the particular sweetness of Texas wildflowers, the bluebonnets and Indian paintbrush and wine cups blooming in riotous color.

Words kept flipping through Mike’s brain. Questions. A plea. Sweat beaded his forehead and he thought his heart might pound out of his chest. He cursed under his breath.

"What?" Liv asked.

"I had this whole thing planned. Was gonna bring you out here at sunset, had the words all rehearsed..." He scrubbed a hand over his face. "Now I can't remember a damn thing except that I love you and I want to keep you."

"No need for fancy words. I want you to keep me, too.”

“You do? I understand you have a whole other life that I know nothing about, but I think we can figure that out. Hang on." He pulled a wooden box from his pocket with hands that weren't quite steady. "Let me at least do this part right."

She turned to face him, and the late sun caught in her hair, made her look golden and alive and absolutely beautiful.

He opened the box, revealing the ring he'd spent three nights carving in the barn when he should've been sleeping.

Her eyes went wide. "Oh, Mike."

The ring caught the late sun, simple mesquite wood, sanded smooth, the grain running like rivers of honey and amber.

"I made this," he said, and his voice had gone rough. "Took me three tries to get it right. Kept sanding through the band on the first one, burned the second with the finish. This one..." He turned it in his fingers. "This one's from the old mesquite behind the barn. The one where Charlotte likes to climb and you sit reading to her on Sunday afternoons."

Liv's vision blurred.

"I'm not a fancy man, Liv. I don't have a big speech prepared. But I know what I want. I want slow mornings with too much coffee. I want kids and animals running around underfoot. I want trail rides where the only thing chasing us is sunset. I want to build something real with you. Something that lasts."

He took her hand, felt it trembling in his. "Olivia Langford, will you marry me? Will you stay here, build a life with me, argue with me over biscuit recipes, and let me love you for the rest of my life?"

Tears streamed down her face. "Yes. God, yes."

He slid the ring onto her finger with hands that shook slightly. It settled into place like it had been made for exactly this hand, this moment, this woman. Which, of course, it had been.