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The bull stomped on it and ground the flowers into the dirt.
“I think that’s a wonderful idea,” Ace said. “We should breed him.”
I rolled my eyes and tossed my crown instead.
Codie caught it and placed it on her daughter’s head.
“Oh, hell no.” Ace shook his head, snatching the crown and placing it on Banks’ head who didn’t bother taking it off.
Mostly because he was busy trying to tie a cherry stem with his tongue.
And not accomplishing the feat.
Darby, however, was grinning like a loon with his tied cherry stem between his teeth.
Catching my eye, he walked toward me with a swagger in his step.
“Well?” he said through his teeth. “What do you think?”
I wrapped my arms around him and placed my lips on his.
He pulled back and pulled the cherry stem from between his teeth then said, “So how long do we have to stay until it’s acceptable for us to leave?”
I looked at all the brothers and sisters and family and friends, then said, “Fuck it.”
We left our own wedding reception.
When we came back, nobody had even noticed we were gone.
***
Ten years later
Waylynn
“Ten bucks says he stays on,” I said.
“Ten bucks says he stays on and gets all of their approval.” Candy laughed.
I took a sip of my wine where I was sitting on the porch next to Codie, Candy, and Desi.
They followed suit.
“I’m not actually sure that this is safe,” Codie admitted. “Shouldn’t he be, I dunno, not around a bucking animal?”
I grinned.
Mine and Darby’s child, our three-year-old little terror named Peyson, had decided that he wanted to learn to ride bulls. Luckily, Darby was able to convince him to ride the sheep instead and give the bulls a few more years before he decided to bite off more than he could chew.
Peyson was so much like Darby that it physically pained me to watch sometimes. Riding fence, mucking stalls, hell, even walking around the house. Peyson really loved to be with his dad.
“Do you like his baby chaps?” I asked, a grin widening on my face. “I found those at Cavendar’s today.”
“Love them,” Desi said. “My kids don’t look nearly as cute in them anymore.”
I looked at Desi’s babies who were right in the middle of everything, trying to help Peyson stay situated on the back of the sheep’s back.
Codie’s daughters, who were on the fence watching from the top wrung. Candy’s son and daughter were just a wrung below them.
My two, Peyson, and our youngest, Kendall, who was only eleven months, were the youngest of the group.
“Peyson has it in the bag,” Georgia said as she came up.
I looked to find her by herself, the others in her crew making their way to the corral fence with the rest of the family.
“Got any more wine?” Georgia asked.
I grabbed a Dixie cup from my stack and passed it to Desi. Desi filled it up with wine and passed it to Georgia. Georgia took it with a thankful nod.
“Oh dear,” I said as I watched Peyson lean precariously to the left.
Still, he held on.
Darby was running toward the sheep before Peyson could fall completely off. And when he finally did, Darby had him in his arms and was jumping up and down with him excitedly.
Peyson, who barely ever cried, was holding onto his dad’s head with both of his hands as he yelled with excitement.
I got up, drank the rest of the wine in my cup, then made my way down to stand beside Callum.
Callum looked over when I arrived and reached for the sleeping little girl in my arms.
Kendall rolled her head over and buried her sweaty face into her uncle’s neck, holding onto him just like she’d been doing to me moments before.
“Want a picture?” he asked.
I nodded and pulled my phone out, first taking a picture of him and Kendall. Which got me an eye roll.
I snickered and moved my phone to point at my son and Darby.
Darby was talking to Ace, who was listening and nodding his head.
“Yes,” he said. “Right.”
I snapped a picture of them, then moved backward until I could get the entire Valentine clan, all four boys, some of their wives and all of their children, shouting encouragement to the next one to ride.
After taking that photo, I made my way back to the porch and a newly refilled glass of wine.
“Thank you,” I said to the keeper of the wine, also known as Desi.
“You’re welcome,” she said. “Send me that picture of Callum and Kendall. Man, that makes me want another baby.”
I grinned.
“You should have more,” I teased.
She pursed her lips.
“I want more,” she admitted. “But I also want to not have a minivan like Georgia.”
Georgia snorted. “I don’t have a minivan. I have a Suburban. Big difference.”
Desi shrugged. “Two is a well-rounded number. And if I have another baby, we’re going to have to add onto the house again.”
