Page 74 of One Wild Chance

“It worked,” I say. “Some people are asking about us. Whether we’re…” I wave the phone around. “…dating.”

“Ah.” He’s quiet for a second. “Just like Larissa predicted.”

Which means she’ll tell me to post more pictures. More pretending for the cameras. More opportunities for me to be in Jaxon’s arms.

“Whatever gets us bookings,” I say, even though I know that’s not why I feel uneasy about this.

This could be so good for our business. And so bad for my heart.

After dropping Remi off at Meredith’s, I head home to work for a few hours, knocking things off my ballooning to-do list.

First order of business: create a sign-up form for brides who want more information about Wildflower Weddings. I put it together in about twenty minutes, then work on the logo. I’ve always loved to design things, and I already have the wildflower aesthetic established from my farm branding. I’m playing around with colors when the first sign-up notification pops into my inbox. Someone is already asking for more information. And they’re getting married in…six months?

That’s when I realize that at some point every interested bride is going to want to see the place in person. What I need is to plan an open house to show off the venue to potential brides.

I pull up a new note on my phone and start typing. If there’s one thing Golden Springs does well, it’s spreading the word. The only problem is that an open house will cost money I don’t have.

As if on cue, a text pops up on my phone.

Jaxon: Hey, you left before I could talk to you.

Me: Sorry, looked like you were busy.

Jaxon: What are you doing tonight?

Me: Working on the venue launch. You?

Jaxon: Finishing up with the horses. I think Rebel might be warming up to me.

I smile at my phone before I can stop myself.

Me: Are you bribing her with peppermints?

Jaxon: Of course I am. I owe you for that tip.

Me: Since you owe me, I need your advice on something. What do you think about an open house for the wedding venue?

Jaxon: Does this involve more promotional pictures?

Me: I mean, I won’t say no. Especially if it’s you doing farm work.

Jaxon: Living dangerously, huh? I could be shoveling manure, for all you know.

Me: We want to show a real working farm.

I don’t actually expect him to respond, since it’s more of a joke than a real request. Then my phone buzzes with an incoming video.

I open it and my breath catches. Colton must have recorded it because Jaxon’s on horseback, riding Scout along the fence line. There’s barely enough light to see him, but he’s sitting easy in the saddle, looking like an actual cowboy. He’s even wearing a cowboy hat and looks like a total smoke show, holding the reins loosely in his hands as he moves with the horse’s gait.

He looks like he belongs in the saddle, becoming the man I secretly hoped he could be someday. And there’s nothing more dangerous than hope when that same man could be gone as soon as the two-year stipulation is up.

Me: You’re riding?

Jaxon: Scout needed some exercise. You needed horse content. Win-win.

Me: You look comfortable in the saddle.

Jaxon: Don’t sound so surprised.