My hand flew to my mouth. In answer to his question, I squealed and jumped into his arms.
“I love you so much, Colt Flynn.” More tears ran down my cheeks, washing away any lingering hurt. “Yes! Yes, I’ll marry you.”
There was nothing I wanted more in the entire universe than to spend the rest of my life with my dirty-talking, beer-slinging, horse-wrangling, guitar-playing cowboy.
And just like that, the cracks in my heart began to heal.
Epilogue
Natalie
With a contented sigh, I lay my head on Colt’s chest and looked out of the bedroom window.
Fall in the Smokies filled me to bursting. Halloween was right around the corner, and the trees had turned several stunning shades of red, yellow and orange. The view from up here was so breathtaking the landscape almost seemed photoshopped.
This was only my second visit to Whistling Wind Ranch, and I was still in awe of its size and beauty. The five-thousand-acre haven was the perfect place to get married. Our guests would sit on bales of hay and dine on the finest barbeque while being serenaded by neighing Arabian horses, frolicking foals, and bleating goats.
I’d asked Colt more than once if he missed life on the ranch. He said sometimes, but he much preferred the hustle and bustle of Nashville.
“One more day till we get married,” I said. The butterflies in my belly were working overtime, leaving me both nauseated and excited. “When I walked into your bar, bet you didn’t think you’d be getting married three months later.”
“And you did?” He chuckled softly.
“I already told you I knew from the second you shook my hand that you were meant for me.”
He pressed a kiss on top of my head and stroked the curve of my waist. “Luckiest day of my life.” He rolled out of bed and pulled a pair of jeans over his muscular legs and tight ass. “Promised I’d go help my dad and brothers for a few hours.”
I stretched and yawned. “You sure you don’t want to stay here with me? Third time’s a charm. We won’t be able to sleep together tonight. Your mom has a bachelorette party of some sort planned.”
“Don’t remind me. My brothers, dad, and the guys have God knows what in store for me. I’d be more than happy having a few beers and sneaking into bed with you.”
“Not going to happen. Your mom will have this place locked down like Fort Knox.”
“You’ve got that all wrong, little lady,” he said in an exaggerated Southern twang. “Ain’t no one gonna keep me away from my woman, not even my momma.”
I pursed my lips in thought.
“Let me guess. You’re going to use that in a song.” He picked up a discarded T-shirt from the floor, sniffed it then pulled it over his head.
I flopped on the mattress and giggled. “It’s a little too redneck even for me.”
Colt placed a deep, lingering kiss on my lips, getting me all hot and bothered again.
“Stay,” I murmured. “The horses can wait a little while longer.” Reaching out, I cupped his crotch and gave a gentle squeeze. “It’d be a shame to waste this.”
He closed his eyes and groaned, but a second later, he opened them and shook his head. “ Think about me while I’m gone.”
“You’re the worst husband-to-be ever,” I joked. “What kind of man denies his fiancée an orgasm?”
“The kind of man who’s already given his fiancée two this morning.”
“Not my fault you’re such a high achiever.”
“Not my fault you’re a nympho.”
“Totally is your fault.” Reaching back, I wrapped my hands around the headboard spindles and gave what I hoped was a seductive stretch. “Go on now, get out of here before I get all dominant and tie you to the bed.”
“Save that for our wedding night,” he said, his voice molten, his eyes flashing. “Only I’ll be the one tying you to the headboard.”
Before he left, he placed one more kiss on my lips, followed by a firm tweak of my nipples.
Once he was gone, I grabbed my phone and saw several missed calls and messages from Conrad. We’d posted the official video for Break Me online yesterday. I guessed he was calling to talk about how it was being received.
My thumb hovered over the call back button. What if everyone hated it? The butterflies in my belly were now flapping their wings so hard, I was ready to throw up. Over the past few weeks, I’d been so anxious about the wedding and my new songs that I’d been sick more than a few times. After the wedding, I’d make a doctor’s appointment to figure out what the heck was going on.
To stop myself from throwing up, I pressed a hand against my stomach and breathed deeply. When the wooziness passed, I returned Conrad’s missed calls.
“Where’ve you been?” he asked, sounding like a kid in the middle of a sugar high.
“Sleeping,” I lied. I could hardly say I was begging Colt to screw me senseless one more time.
“Have you looked at your viewing numbers?”
“Not yet. I’m almost afraid to ask. Good? Bad?”
“Good? How about better than good. Stratospheric. Twenty million views in less than twenty-four hours.”
“Holy shit.” I shot out of bed and began pacing the floor. “That’s insane.”
“You’re trending everywhere. Good Morning America invited you on to talk about your overnight rise to stardom. Thing is, they want you there tomorrow morning.”
The butterflies plunged to the bottom of my belly like I was on a daredevil rollercoaster ride. “You do know what tomorrow is, right?”
“Postpone the wedding. You can get married anytime. This is the chance of a lifetime. We need to capitalize on the buzz surrounding you
