Page 46 of One Wild Chance

“Because if we’re going to save this place—” He pauses again.

I nod. “Go on.”

He swallows, then moves closer to me, and something changes in his eyes. “I can’t do it without you.” His voice is low and rough, and I stare at him, my heart going soft at the center. The entire universe shifted because Jaxon Chance just admitted he couldn’t do this without me. And he didn’t hide behind a mask—he just let me see how desperate he is for my help.

He searches my face. “Well?”

“That was…” I blink rapidly. “Good.”

He straightens. “You’ll help, then?”

“With one condition.” I level my gaze at him. “Promise that whatever idea I bring to you, you’ll listen to the entire thing before you make a face.”

He frowns. “I don’t make faces.”

“You make one every time I say something you think is ridiculous.”

His lips press together. “Then I’ll try to keep an open mind.”

I take a deep breath. Here goes nothing. “Remember that business idea I had about the wedding venue?”

“Uh-huh.”

“I want to turn the old barn into a wedding venue.”

He pauses, trying to hide a grimace.

I point at him. “You’re doing it again!”

“What?”

“Making that face.”

He immediately schools his expression. “I just don’t understand how. The old barn needs work.”

“A little, yes. But it’s the perfect place. People drive three hours and pay tens of thousands of dollars a day for a building with half that character.”

“How much will it cost?” Jaxon asks.

“It doesn’t need a full-scale renovation. The character is already there. If we clean it out, put in some lighting, and fix up the exterior with new paint, we could make it work. You know what you can’t buy? A hundred-year-old barn on a working thoroughbred farm in Kentucky. Couples will pay for that kind of experience. Guaranteed.” I slap my palm lightly on the bar.

He stares at me. “But that’s crazy.”

“Brides don’t think so. They want a dream wedding. The quaint, romantic setting. We can attract couples from Lexington and Louisville with a venue like this.”

“How much does a wedding bring in?”

“Minimum ten thousand per event. But I think we could get more.” I grab a bar napkin and a pen and start scribbling numbers. “Could be anywhere from ten to twenty-five grand, depending on the package.”

He takes in the rough figures I’m sketching out: revenue, down payments, capacity.

“We’d need to find a catering partner and a way to handle parking. But the barn doesn’t need to be rebuilt. It just needs some TLC.”

He studies the figures again. “It’s a wild plan, Summer. But my great-grandpa didn’t call the ranch Lucky Chance for nothing.” He taps the napkin. “Can I take this with me?”

“Sure.”

He folds it before tucking it into his back pocket. “I need you to put together a proposal. Something I can hand my brothers before they leave.”