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“Thanks, wifey.” I flash her a wink before removing the steps between us and planting a sweet kiss on her lips. She sinks into me, and I have to force myself to pull away because if I don’t, I won’t stop.

“Mmm,” she hums against my mouth, wrapping her arms around me.

“Arizona!” Diesel calls out with a half-cocked grin. “Where’s my water?”

I take a sip of the one she gave me and then hand it to Diesel, who drinks it in three gulps.

“We’re almost done here. I gotta call my sister and shower, then we can go to the bar where they’re setting up,” I tell her, my fingers brushing against hers, tempting her to kiss me again.

“I’m really nervous,” she admits. “What if they all hate me?”

I snort-laugh because that’s not possible. “What if they all love you, then you leave me? That’s what you should be more worried about.”

The truth seems to fall out. Her smile fades, and she searches my face. “The last thing I want to do is hurt you, Riley.”

“Get a room!” Diesel yells, interrupting us. “And come help me finish up this bullshit!”

She leans forward and slides her lips across mine. I love how freely she shows affection. “Better get back to it.” She nods at Diesel, who’s growing more frustrated.

“I’ll pick you up in an hour. Be ready to meet the entire town,” I warn with a laugh, but I’m not joking.

“You’re not helping my nerves!” she shouts as she walks toward the B&B.

“I’m gonna kick your ass,” Diesel tells me.

When she’s out of sight, I get back to work, and we finish the task. I suck in a deep breath, realizing I’m anxious to make the announcement. It’s scary bringing a girlfriend around everyone, but it’s absolutely terrifying to introduce my wife. The word almost seems foreign, but damn, it feels so right.

After we’re done with the repairs, I text Dad and let him know, then we head straight to the house to shower. While Diesel hogs the hot water, I make a sandwich and call Rowan.

“Whatcha doin?” I ask, purposely not mentioning her birthday. Every year, she thinks I forget, but I never have.

“Nothing much. Putting away some laundry and cleaning. Why? What’s up?”

I focus on giving the best performance of my life. “I just finished talking to Uncle John, and he said they were doing inventory for the bar around two since it’s a slow time. He mentioned you wanted to learn how to do it, so he told me to let you know.”

She laughs. “That means I need to be there.”

“You know they don’t really give us a choice to do anything, right?” I’m smiling, and I know she can tell.

“Mmhmm. Got nothing better going on other than maybe watching paint dry or something.” She sounds somewhat disappointed, but what she doesn’t know is fifty people will be waiting for her to show up today.

“I understand. Anyway, I gotta eat. Talk soon, okay?” I make sure to keep my tone chipper.

“See ya,” she says, then hangs up.

As I sit at the table and devour my food, I almost feel bad, but then again, I don’t because I’ve never had a surprise party. It was Ma’s idea, and she even went through the trouble of secretly inviting some of Rowan’s best friends from school. Considering we live in the age of social media, though I’m not on it much, I’m surprised the party hasn’t been ruined yet.

After Diesel’s out of the shower, I hop in and scrub the sweat and dirt from my body. Though I only worked half a day, I’m tired. Drinking and dancing the night away with Zoey, on top of waking up an hour early, is starting to catch up with me. But I don’t regret spending time with her. It was all worth it.

I dress in my favorite jeans and a dressier blue shirt, spray some cologne, and comb my hair before throwing on a baseball cap that’s got the Circle B Ranch cattle brand in the middle. I’m proud as hell to be a Bishop.

“So your sister think anything’s up yet?” Diesel asks before he chugs a bottle of water.

I shake my head. “Nope. I didn’t even tell her happy birthday when we spoke. Didn’t want to make her suspicious. She actually sounded sad, so I think when she shows up, she’ll be real surprised and happy.”

Diesel flashes a mischievous grin. “And you even hired a male stripper!” He undoes his button-up shirt as he thrusts his hips like he did in the Vegas show.

“Oh, really?” I lift a brow. “You’d strip in front of my grandma?” I challenge, knowing he’s full of shit.

He instantly starts re-buttoning his shirt. “Damn. Forgot your whole family’s gonna be there. Maybe I’ll give her a private show instead,” he muses.

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