36. Red

Awarm summer breeze drifts through the open barn alley, carrying the aroma of fresh cut hay, and I slip a mint from my pocket to hand to Heathen. She takes it delicately from my palm and crunches while staring me down, ears perked and waiting like the good personal therapist she is.

"See, if you could be this polite all the time, I'd include you today. But it wouldn't be a good look if you tossed me and my bride, would it?"

Her muzzle twitches and she leans in to sniff Hazel, who's tucked against my side in a puffy white dress. She looks like a princess, smiling and trying to grab at the horse with chubby fingers. And, while she has my hair, she's the spitting image of her mama. Thank God.

At eighteen-months old, she's already a horse girl through and through. Thankfully, Heathen has enough sense to be gentle with toddlers, pressing her soft nose against Hazel's open hand.

"Here, princess. Wanna give her a treat?" I pull another mint from my pocket and press it to her tiny, soft palm. Holding her fingers flat, I guide her hand toward the mare. "Like this, keep your hand open so she doesn't nibble on your little fingers—might think they're baby carrots."

She giggles at the feel of Heathen's whiskers tickling her skin, quickly pulling her arm away with the biggest grin once the mint's gone. I kiss the top of her head, patting the horse and turning to leave.

Cassidy's watching us from the doorway in a wedding dress, and I quickly cover my eyes with my free hand. "Jesus. Isn't this bad luck?"

She laughs, and suddenly I feel the warmth of her hands slipping around my waist. She smells so fucking good, and I want nothing more than to open my eyes, drink her in.

"Babe, if we didn't already have luck on our side, we wouldn't be here." Her soft lips press to mine. "Besides, aren't some rules made to be broken?"

Reluctantly, I drop my hand to my side and blink to focus on her. Long blonde hair in a braid with small white flowers tucked into the strands, a glowing smile sweeps across her face as she peers up at me through thick, dark lashes. Her dress is lacy, flowy, and low cut—and it's going to look phenomenal on the bedroom floor tonight.

She takes a step back, clutching my hand in hers. "What do you think?"

"You're… God, you're something else. I-I…" I lick my lips, unable to come up with a way to express how gorgeous she is.

"Pwetty." Hazel chimes in.

"Awe, baby. Thank you. You're the prettiest girl here, though." Cass squeezes her chubby cheeks, planting a kiss on her tiny nose.

"You're stunning, sweetheart. My dream girl," I say, squeezing her hand. "Both of you are. I don't know how I deserve this, but I'm the luckiest man alive."

"We're lucky to be your girls."

"Speaking of which, I have something I want to show you." I suddenly remember the secret I've been struggling to keep for the past few days. A secret that's incredibly hard to hide when we live in a small house, and I like to be naked with my wife as often as possible. "I got it as a bit of a celebratory thing, since I didn't have a traditional bachelor party."

I hand Hazel over to her mommy and work the buttons on my shirt. Cass raises an eyebrow. "What on Earth are you—"

Her sentence stops abruptly, and she bends to examine the fresh tattoo on the left side of my ribcage. Three sets of flowers bound together with leather lacing tied off in a bow. A bouquet inked on my skin, into the grooves of my ribs. The way the two girls represented by the floral design are embedded in my soul.

"I wanted something to represent both my girls forever. So I got your birth month flowers—larkspur and violets."

"Are the white ones your birth month?" Her long eyelashes flutter as she briefly looks up at me.

"They're potato flowers. Thought it was fitting."

"Chase, I love it." Her voice cracks with emotion, and she hugs Hazel tighter to her side.

"I have so many tattoos to cover the pain from the worst moments in my life, to hide the broken parts of me that only you seem to love." I watch as she studies my skin, the corner of her mouth quirking up. "But I wanted something for the best moments. Something almost as colourful and beautiful as my two favourite people on Earth. I wanted to finally have a tattoo that comes from a place of pride, not shame."

"Oh my God, that's beautiful. I can't believe you're doing this right after I finished my makeup." She delicately dabs at her tear ducts and smiles through watery eyes like she's the lucky one here. But because of her, I have more than I ever thought was possible—a reason for waking up every morning, a family to come home to every night, a gorgeous wife, and a baby girl who looks at me like I'm her world.

Today I get to marry the woman who saved my life, on the ranch that's always been my home, in front of our friends and family—Hazel being the only one I'm technically related to. If there's one thing I've learned since getting sober, cemented by a phone call after my father died a few months ago, it's that my chosen family is more important than blood. People who do nothing but love and support me, Cassidy, and Hazel. Who would step in front of a fist to protect us, rather than step aside and watch us take the hit.

"You're the best thing to happen to me. My first choice, my every dream come true. Thank you for being the other half to my broken pieces. I am so madly in love with you, husband."

And she kisses me like we're made for each other, with an intensity I've never had before her. Making me forget to breathe. When my hands glide over the intricate lacework of her dress, it's a reminder that I'm kissing Cassidy Bowman. The girl of my dreams. The girl who was so far out of my league for years; the girl who is still too good for me. I kiss her, and my heart fucking skips at the thought, because Cassidy soon-to-be Thompson kisses me back.