Fucking moans over me telling her I want to impregnate her.
“We’d make some pretty babies,” I murmur as my hand comes up to cup the back of her head and hold her against me tighter.
“I’ve been told that recently,” she whispers as her tongue comes out to taste me right at my jaw line. “But we have to be married first.”
“Say the word and I’m there. We can hop a plane to Vegas right now and throw your birth control pills away.”
Casey giggles and leans back to look at me. She gives a serious shake of her head. “The ranch. I want to get married on the bank of Snake River… your favorite place in the world.”
“Second favorite,” I remind her. “You’re my favorite place.”
“And I only want our family and close friends there,” she continues. “And we have to work on getting custody of Zoey. She has to be with us permanently, okay?”
I tilt my head, overwhelmed by the capacity of her heart. “Sure, baby. We’ll get started on that real soon.”
“And Tenn?” she says with sparkling eyes and joy practically pouring off her.
“Yeah, baby?”
“It’s going to be physically impossible for you to make me any happier than I am right at this moment,” she says assuredly, linking her fingers through mine. “You’ve given this girl more than she could have ever hoped for.”
“Oh, Goldie,” I tell her in a low warning voice. “I’m just going to have to prove you wrong about that.”
“Bring it on, baby,” she says before leaning in to kiss me. “Bring it on.”
Epilogue
Tenn
Mention marriage and babies to Casey Markham just once, and it’s all over.
Four weeks to the day since I mentioned wanting to marry her while we sat out on the beach facing the Atlantic Ocean, and I’m now about half an hour from making it a reality.
While I had to get on a plane the very next day and get back to Wyoming, Casey stayed behind and put her mother and Gabby to work planning the wedding with her. Since she already had the venue picked out—and that would be on the shores of a river in Wyoming—she was able to do pretty much everything else on the internet.
A few days later, she had no hesitation picking the date and sent it to me in a simple text. July 30th. Our wedding. Be there.
Later, she told me that it had to be done then because Zoey would have to be back in North Carolina a few weeks after to start school, and Casey had decided she wanted Zoey to go on our honeymoon with us. That came in the next text.
Zoey and I want to go to New York City for our honeymoon. Cool?
Of course, I texted back that it was cool. Whatever the hell she wanted, as long as she remained gung ho to tie herself to me. And even though I’m swamped with shit that needs to get done with my father’s estate, I told Woolf to plan on me being gone for at least a week in August.
Casey and I decided that it would be best to move for custody of Zoey once I established permanent residency in North Carolina, so for the time being, she was going to stay with Brianna until I could get the ranch under control. I didn’t have it in me to take on that fight while trying to pour all of my energy into getting myself out from under the Jennings family business. But once I was free from it, there was no doubt that Zoey was going to be with Casey and me.
I finish buttoning up the white western shirt with black stitching and put on a bolo tie with a pewter buckle that Casey gave me. It has the Double J logo stamped into the metal. I have no clue what Casey is wearing to the wedding and she told me that she didn’t care what I wore, so I chose a western theme since she gave me the bolo, went with a white shirt because it’s a wedding, and then chose a pair of dark denim jeans, a black belt, and boots.
Grabbing my black Stetson off the dresser, I leave my room and head over to Woolf’s side of the house to get him. He’s my best man, of course, and I have strict instructions from Casey that we are to be riverside at least ten minutes before the ceremony is to start. Which means I don’t have much time to get our asses on our ATVs and head that way.
Woolf’s bedroom door is ajar so I push it open. “Come on, dude… got a woman to marry.”
“Just a second,” he groans, and then my eyes take in Woolf standing there with his head thrown back and his hands gripping onto a woman’s head while she deep throats him from a kneeling position.
“Fuck,” I mutter, quickly turning on my heel and exiting the room, slamming the door shut behind me.
And just my luck, the closed door isn’t enough to diminish Woolf’s roar of release as she finishes him off. I lean back against the wall and jam my hands down into my pockets, waiting for my brother to zip up and get his ass out here so we can meet my bride down by the river.
Fucker. I can’t believe he’s in there getting a blow job on the second most important day of my life, the first being the day Zoey was born. And yeah… maybe that’s a little bit of jealousy on my part since my girl gives the best head ever and I had to sleep apart from her last night. Casey insisted on staying at a hotel in Jackson with her crew because she wanted to preserve some wedding traditions.
The door suddenly flies open and Carlie Payton stumbles out, giggling at something Woolf says with her lips all puffy and red. I hadn’t recognized the waitress from over at The Shady Pine bar when she was blowing my brother, but I nod a greeting at her.
“Hey Tenn,” she says breathlessly, and then turns to accept a deep kiss from Woolf, who practically bends her in half.
“That was amazing, baby,” he says just before releasing her. Giving her a quick pat on her ass, he turns her around and pushes her toward the hallway.
“We still on for some tag-teaming at Scandalous tomorrow?” she asks as she walks backward away from him.
“Yup,” he says with a charming grin, his eyes raking up and down her body. “Looking forward to it.”
She blows him a kiss followed by a husky laugh and spins away.
“What the fuck is tag-teaming? And what the hell is Scandalous?” I ask him as I push away from the door and follow him down the hallway while he refastens his belt. He’s wearing a mint-green western shirt along with his ratty, old, brown Stetson, but at least he’s washed and pressed. He loves that fucking hat more than life itself so I don’t say anything.
“It’s just a private club over in Driggs,” he says vaguely and then completely changes the subject on me. “You have the rings?”
My heart lurches for a second, and then I remember I had put them in my back pocket. I reach back and pull out a simple, platinum wedding band that I bought last week along with another platinum ring flashing with diamonds. Three to be exact.
The center one is a cushion cut and weighs in at just over two carats. There are two trillion diamonds, one on each side of the center diamond, and total carat weight came in at just under four carats total.
This is Casey’s engagement ring that she insisted she didn’t want or need, but I couldn’t fucking help myself. She should have something nearly as perfect as she is on her hand and for the third time in my life, I dipped into my trust fund.
So fucking worth it and I can’t wait to see her face when I put it on her finger. Granted, it will go on maybe a second before the wedding band goes on, making it the shortest engagement in history, but Casey is the one that hurried this whole wedding along so it’s all good.
As I hand the rings to Woolf, we make our way out of the house and over to the garage, deciding to drive the Gator down to the river.
In just under fifteen minutes, I’m going to make Casey Markham mine forever.
