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I snort at his taunting tone, then shake Mr. Bishop’s hand. “I’ll stick with Alex, don’t worry.”

“Smart girl.” The corner of his lips tilts up, then he glances at Riley. “So by the hand-holding, I take it you’re one of Riley’s many girlfriends?”

My eyes widen as Riley squeezes my hand in reassurance. “You’re an asshole.”

I look back and forth between them and can tell Mr. Bishop is giving him a hard time on purpose. “If your mother was here, she’d be yelling at you for that language, son.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Riley groans. “Now that you’ve almost scared her off…” He turns and gestures toward me with a grin. “Dad, this is my wife.”

I hold my breath, waiting for his reaction. It’s easy to see they’re close, but regardless, this is a pretty big bomb to drop.

Mr. Bishop coughs to cover up his shock, causing Riley to smack him hard on the back. “Breathe, Old Man.”

“No, I think you’re trying to kill me,” he says, swallowing hard. “Because I heard you say wife, and there’s no way my only son would get married without telling me first.”

Riley grunts, rolling his eyes. “Now you’re being more dramatic than Mom.”

“Oh God, your mother knows? Does she still have a pulse?” he asks seriously. “Better yet, how are you still standing after she whipped your ass?”

I can’t help it; I start cracking up. This family is so fun, much different from mine, who constantly have a stick up their asses.

“Sorry, I’m not laughing at you. Well, I am. Sorta. It’s just you two are hilarious together,” I explain, clearing my throat in embarrassment.

“Tell that to my mother because she blames us for giving her gray hair,” Riley says. Alex welcomes me to the family, and we chat about how we met and the dare that had us eloping in a Vegas chapel before he has to get back to work.

After we leave his dad, Riley continues driving us around, and I can’t help but be amazed by the land.

“It’s so open, and the view is breathtaking. No wonder you love it here,” I say, unable to take my eyes off the rolling hills and cloudless blue sky.

“Born and raised, can’t imagine being anywhere else,” he says honestly. “When we need stuff, we drive to San Angelo. That’s where my mom works.”

“How far away is that?” I ask.

“About forty-five minutes, give or take.”

My eyes widen. “Even for groceries?”

“There’s a small grocery store in town along with a bank, a bar, and a library. There’s a health clinic too, but my mom got hired as a nurse at the San Angelo hospital after she had me since my uncle Evan and aunt Emily worked there as doctors. She’s in town several times a week, so if any of us need anything, she can usually grab it.”

“So not all of you work on the ranch?” I ask.

“Evan used to when he had time, but since he and my uncle John bought the bar, he’s there on his days off to make sure his investment is running properly.”

“Wow…your family sure knows how to stay busy. It’s like no one slows down.”

He shrugs, not disagreeing. “It’s all we know. When you’re born on a ranch, and you’re used to getting up before the sun and working through dusk, you develop a strong work ethic. I could’ve left after high school and gone to college as most of my cousins did or plan to, but everything I needed to learn about business and management is here on the ranch.”

“I didn’t go to college either,” I admit, and he looks at me with a smile, encouraging me to continue. “I was always passionate about hair and nails, but my mother made it very clear what she thought about that. She said I wasn’t using the extent of my intelligence, was wasting my life away, and would always need a man to support me because I wasn’t choosing a high-paying career. Blah, blah, blah. But I went for it anyway and did a year of cosmetology school. It might not bring in a million bucks, but every day I worked, I felt like a hero. Someone would come in, not knowing what they wanted, and I’d instantly envision a new look for them. They’d hug me with tears in their eyes because they felt truly beautiful for the first time in their lives. After that happened more and more, I knew I had picked the right direction for me.”

“I’m really glad you did,” he responds. “There’s nothing worse than feeling pushed into a job you’re not passionate about. Ranching is hard work, but I love it. Most people think I’m crazy for enjoying it so much, but fuck ’em.”

I laugh with him, then blush when he brings my hand to his mouth and kisses my knuckles. “Working in a career you hate isn’t worth your happiness, remember that.” He flashes me a wink, and I nod, grinning like a fool.

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