“What other reason was there?” It did seem odd that his studio was normally empty, aside from the occasional client here or there, but all new businesses start off that way.
“It was for you.” Rhylan’s hand crept up the center of my chest, his palm caressing the column of my neck as he continued to speak, melting me like a popsicle on the Fourth of July. “And while I love and have a passion for dance, the dream was sharing a studio with you,my wife. So, I created the space that you always imagined owning. One with state-of-the-art everything.”
“But—” Hard to argue with a gesture like that. But could I accept a gift so extravagant when I’ve already worked so damn hard to get to where I was now?
“I’ve already had the paperwork drafted to transfer ownership, and we can work on merging the studios as soon as you’re ready.
“Rhy…” He left me speechless, as always.
“I love you, Wildcat, and I want to give you everything that beautiful heart desires.” The truth was, he already had.
Rhylan had shown me that I was valuable from day one; worthy of worship, not abuse. His obsessive form of love healed my soul, and if a cowboy like him could give me the entire world while expecting absolutely nothing in return, I could do the same.
And I will.
Chapter 36
Rhylan: Eight Months Later
“Liam,Conrad,Deacon,Walker,Matthew.”
“Lucy, Mallory, Celine, Cadence, Raina. Five and five. We’re getting there.” Dakota and I had been running through our baby name lists as the due date approached. We’d already confirmed the gender—twice, but she insisted on having a name chosen for both as ajust-in-case.
“Oh god, you two have been at this for fucking days… Just pick one already!” Tiffany groaned from the wicker chaise lounge, dramatically throwing an arm over her eyes while my wife and I cuddled up on the daybed swing.
It was another gloomy, misty morning on the ranch; the rich scent of petrichor soothing the senses. Dakota always made time to relax on the back porch, even when it was raining.
Occasionally, I’d join her; others, I’d sip my coffee while resting my forearms on the kitchen island, watching her through the windows as she swayed in the breeze. There wasn’t a thing in the world that could prevent me from admiring the world’s most gorgeous woman as she rested a hand against her round belly, beautifully swollen with our first of many.
“Aww, did someone wake up on the wrong side of their stud this morning?” I couldn’t resist antagonizing Tiffany, especially when I had the chance to do it in my well-rehearsed ‘Dad’ voice. It pissed her off…a lot.
“That’s not—D, are you seriously going to let him talk to me like thatagain?”
Dakota just gave her sister a simple shrug and a smile—the one I loved, full of warmth and affection.
“He’s gotta practice on someone. Besides, I think Trent would throat punch him if given the chance.” Nothing phased her these days. Killing targets for the MUR like a badass while simultaneously requesting a Diet Coke and fries.
“I don’t even know why I bother coming over anymore. You’re always takinghisside over mine now…” Tiffany got up from her seat, rolling her eyes as she crossed her arms with her typical pouty attitude and bitter tone. “Mild jealousy aside, I should probably go; Trent and I have a job that needs handling tonight, and I need a new outfit before we leave.”
“Tell Daddy I said‘Howdy’.” I tried my fuckin’ hardest to channel my inner Silas, remaining straight-faced when dealing out smart-ass comments like cards in a round of poker.
“Fuck you, Rhylan. Count yourself lucky I have impulse control.” Tiffany shot me a deadly glare, flipping me off as she stepped off the porch, already fed up with my shit, and it wasn’t even ten in the morning.
“Trent would never—Ow!” My wife elbowed me hard in the ribs the second her sister cleared the corner of our house, out of sight and earshot.
“That wasn’t funny.” Okay…but it was.“Do you always have to piss her off?”
“Not my fault she still feels the need to come over here and act like she owns the place. This is my house, darlin’. I make the—”
“Ourhouse, and she’s the reason we’re lying here together. Remember that,darlin’.” This remarkable woman, always putting me in my place. If she didn’t hate it so much when I did it, I’d get on my knees and bark right about now.
“Yes, ma’am. On another note, what’d the doctor have to say about my future legacy?” Yesterday, Dakota had one of her last three appointments, but was tired when she got home, crawling straight into bed until dinner, and by then I’d forgotten to ask.
Since this was our first, I enlisted the help of Chase Morris—another member of the MUR who performs with Red Magic—to serve as her obstetrician. He promised to be there from her initial appointment up until delivery.
The moment Dakota goes into labor, Chase will get the call to arrive at the hospital. He’s already planned to be in Nashville a week before her expected due date to make himself readily available for the big day.
Just another one of the many benefits of having members with specialized careers in the organization.
