One Night Bride by Marika Ray
18
Remington
“Just open it.”
Esme sat there with a cup of coffee in front of her, staring at the silver box tied with a white bow like it might bite her. Her hesitation was making me nervous. The last few days had been absolute bliss. Working during the day, listening to Esme with her clients, and nights in Esme’s bed with very little sleeping going on. I may have originally been looking for a doormat wife to take my name so I got out of ranching, but I was finding an actual partner in life was far more appealing.
It was like the second Esme made up her mind to give us a chance, everything had changed. For the better. For the perfect.
I was falling hard and fast in love with this woman and I wanted our date to reflect those feelings. I’d put just as much effort and thought into our date as I did my nonprofit this week. I cared about both, but I was starting to see that succeeding with my business would ring hollow if Esme wasn’t there at my side. This dating we’d agreed to needed my full attention.
“I thought we’re going on a date, not getting each other presents,” Esme said, letting go of her mug to finally touch the box.
I shrugged. “This is part of the date.” She was going to find out soon that when I wanted something, I went after it. She wasn’t the only overachiever in the room.
Esme narrowed her eyes at me, but her lips tipped up in a curious grin. The curiosity must have gotten to her because the next second she was ripping off the ribbon and lifting the lid to peer inside. White tissue paper blocked her view, which she lifted carefully before freezing.
I’d taken a huge chance with this date and I hadn’t considered what to do if she flat-out refused my plans. My thumb tapped out a rhythm on the tabletop.
She reached inside and pulled out a flannel shirt in red and black, the perfect coloring for her creamy white skin and jet-black hair. Esme gave me a weird look but kept digging. Next was a pair of blue Levi’s.
She barked out a laugh at that. “I don’t know. I don’t think anyone can fill out a pair of these like you can.”
I grinned at the compliment, but I thought she’d give me a run for my money with that gorgeous, long physique of hers. At the bottom of the box she found a pair of cowboy boots I’d had overnighted from a little place in my hometown. The lady there made hand-stitched designs all the women went crazy for.
“Oh my God, I love them!” Esme’s mouth fell open as her fingers traced over the brightly colored flowers stitched into the brown leather. “How’d you know my size for all this?”
I tilted my head to the side. Did she really think I was some green boy with no idea how to pull off a surprise? “I asked Izzy, your twin. Plus, I may have snooped in your closet when you were in the shower the other day.”
She shook her head again, but that smile hadn’t left. “I love it. So, what’s the date?” She held her hand up. “Wait. Let me guess. Line dancing?”
I shook my head.
“Dinner at some barbecue place?”
“Nope.”
She looked up at the ceiling. “Barn dance?”
I laughed at that one. “Uh, no. I mean, I guess we could, but the actual date is something even more special.” I paused and let the suspense draw out while I prayed she wouldn’t flip out. “We have a date with a couple therapy horses who are good with new riders.”
The smile vaporized and her eyes clouded over. Shit.
I stood up and came around to crouch by her chair, taking her hands in mine. “Now I know you had a rough start when it comes to horses, but this place works with people who have disabilities and kids from abusive backgrounds. They are the very best at what they do. They won’t let a single hair on your head be harmed.”
She sucked in a breath and bit her lip.
“You’re a fierce woman, Esme Waldo, and I can’t sit here and see you scared of a horse. It’s time to face that fear. And I’ll be right there with you the whole time. Holding your hand while you leap, remember?” I squeezed her hands.
She sat there staring into my eyes for a full minute before she quit worrying that lip and spoke. “Okay. I’ll do it.”
My heart attempted to leap right out of my chest. “That’s my girl,” I whispered right before I stood up and kissed her. “Now you gotta eat your breakfast first, because cowboys and cowgirls don’t ride unless they have a full belly.”
She laughed and shoved me away playfully. “Oh really? Is that true cowboy wisdom right there?”
I put my hand on my chest with mock offense she didn’t trust me. I let the drawl run deep and syrupy. “I am a gen-you-wine cowboy, Miss City Girl.”
She cracked up and stood, taking the box of clothes with her. “Okay, then. You fix me your grits and shit and I’ll go get dressed for our date.”
I reared back in horror. “Grits and shit?”
She patted my chest, giving me a wide grin before prancing out of the room, knowing full well I’d make her a breakfast fit for a queen. When I slid the bacon, eggs, and toast onto plates, she came back through the doorway, dressed in the clothes I’d bought her.
The pan slipped out of my hands and into the sink with a clank. I crossed my arms over my chest to keep from instantly trying to grab her. She spun in a circle, and fuck me now, those jeans looked like they’d been painted on her ass. How the hell was I supposed to sit on a horse and focus on anything besides how hot she looked?
“You’re drooling, cowboy,” she smirked, boots smacking the tile as she came closer.
“’Cause you’re fucking gorgeous, city girl,” I murmured, finally pulling her in and laying a kiss on her that was far too serious when we had breakfast getting cold on the counter.
“That’s it. Let’s just sit here and feel the horse beneath you. We aren’t going anywhere,” the therapist said.
I sat on my horse on the other side of her, calmly waiting for Esme as she first pet the horse, spoke to her, and then finally got in the saddle. Her hands shook as they clasped the reins, and I wanted to pull her off and put her in front of me instead. I could wrap my arms around her and make sure she stayed safe. But that wouldn’t let Esme face her fears and grow. She had to sit on that horse by herself. The fierce desperation on Chief’s face the other day made so much more sense seeing Esme’s terror for myself.
The horse flicked her head and Esme tensed.
“She’s just saying hi,” the therapist soothed. “How about you pet her mane to say hello back?”
Esme swallowed hard and took one high-knuckled hand off the reins and pet the mare, slowly loosening as she realized the horse wouldn’t take off out of control. The barn was right behind us, and I told Esme from the get-go we could leave at any time. Even if she hadn’t gotten further than feeding an apple to a horse. The woman was nothing if not stubborn.
An hour later Esme was riding beside me in the open grassy field at a snail’s pace, focusing on her breathing and smiling.
I’d never been more proud of someone.
“Look at you, city girl. You’re riding a horse all by yourself.”
Her grin spread and she even did a shoulder wiggle, showing just how comfortable she’d gotten in the saddle. Helped that her mare was the most gentle horse I’d ever seen, innately knowing what her rider needed at any given time. It had been worth the investment to rent out the whole place for the day just to see Esme right now.
“How about we head to the tree over there?” I pointed to a huge sycamore next to a barely trickling stream that must rise in wintertime. I checked behind us and saw the therapist had cleared out as I’d asked, leaving just Esme and me on the property for the next hour.
Esme nodded and gently turned her mare in that direction. They’d put me on a bigger horse, but he was just as gentle, understanding that the other rider needed the group to go slower. Kind of made me wish to start my own equine therapy program with the horses on our ranch that aged out of ranching. Maybe after my nonprofit was up and running, I could look into the feasibility of that business endeavor.
When we got to the tree, I hopped off first, running over to help Esme. “Okay, put your right hand on the saddle and pull your right leg out of the stirrup.”
She did, though her hands began to tremble again.
“Good. Now swing your right leg over the back of the horse. Pull your other foot out and let me catch you.”
She followed the directions perfectly with me catching her and slowly lowering her to the ground. She blew out a huge breath and staggered over to the blanket on the grass.
“Oh thank God. Terra firma.” She collapsed and lay flat on her back, making me chuckle. I gave her mare an extra nuzzle for being such a good girl before letting her roam free. The therapist had said we could trust they wouldn’t go far.
I turned to see Esme still lying on the blanket, her hands pillowed behind her head as she gazed up at the tree branches swaying in the breeze, smiling and humming a tune. If I could freeze time, I would have done it just to watch her for a while and soak her in. Maybe it was the clothes, the setting, or the bravery she showed by facing her fears, but this was the moment I knew I’d lost my heart completely to a girl I’d met randomly in Tahoe. We did everything backward by getting married first and then getting to know each other, but I was determined to make this right.
When she sat up on her elbows and looked over at me, putting her hand up to shield her eyes, I walked over and had a seat with her. “Ready for some lunch?”
She sat up quick and pulled on my shirt until our noses almost hit. “Thank you for today, Remy. This is the perfect date.” She sealed her lips to mine, and I forgot all about my intentions of wining and dining her out in nature. All I could think about was getting my hands on her skin. She must have felt the same because when I pulled her shirttails out of her jeans, she didn’t stop me.
“The therapist…” she started.
I cut her off. “Has been paid handsomely to vacate the premises during our picnic.”
She grinned against my lips and then kissed me again, helping me peel the flannel shirt off her body. I had to tear away from her to pull those boots off, her giggle making me hurry. I followed suit, stripping quickly as I looked down at her laid out for me under a tree. The trickle of the stream was the perfect backdrop when I slid home. She chanted my name as the birds chirped and all the walls I’d built fell completely, exposing myself in a way that made everything that much more special.
Esme held my face in her hands, her cheeks pink with pleasure and her eyes gone hazy. “I love being free of a fear. Thank you for that, Remy,” she whispered, love and trust in her gaze.
I pumped into her body, smelling her, feeling her, wanting to be buried so deep inside of her she’d never be rid of me.
“I’d do anything for you, Esme. I love you.”
The words came easy, so true it was like saying the sky was blue. Her eyes went wide and a second later she squeezed them shut again. Her back bowed off the blanket and she let out a breathy scream that set me off too. Every nerve ending in my body screamed in pleasure and my rhythm faltered. I collapsed on top of her, out of breath and out of my mind. Even a crowd of people showing up in that field couldn’t have stirred me to move.
We lay there under the tree, listening to each other breathe until Esme’s stomach growled so loud I knew I needed to feed her the picnic I’d promised. We got dressed, ate lunch, and laughed while we talked. Eventually, I coached her back on the horse and got us all back in the barn without a single incident.
But all the while I was aware she hadn’t said it back.