Page 96 of The One Who Saw Her: Boone

"You're sure you're not just doing the same thing again? Reshaping your life around a man?"

Vivi shook her head, smiling—because this time the answer felt solid. Bedrock solid. "No. Boone didn't give me the idea. He just helped me hear myself say it out loud. This isn't about him. It's about me finally choosing what I want, the way I want it. If Boone fits into that? Great. If not? I'm still doing it."

Her mom studied her for a long beat. "That's new."

"I feel new. Like my phoenix has finally risen."

"Tell me about this company."

"It's a dating profile consultancy," Vivi said, her voice practically vibrating. "I called it—wait for it—Sweet Tea and Swipe Right. Instead of working with big-city people, I'm going to specialize in small-town folks looking for small-town love."

"That's bold."

"You told me to find myself." Vivi flopped onto her stomach and kicked her feet back and forth like a kid who'd just discovered recess was forever. "I found myself."

"You broke up with Lewis. Started your own company," Gloria beamed. "I am so proud."

"Thanks, Mom," Vivi whispered. "I'll help people craft profiles that actually reflect who they are—not the cookie-cutter nonsense Peter wanted. I get to call the shots and I get to help everyday people find extraordinary love."

Her mom leaned in until only her eyes and nose filled the screen. "Just be careful that wherever you settle, it's where you want to be. Not where you feel you're needed."

Just because she was helping small-town folks find love didn't mean she had to stay in Bridlewood.

Sutton had been right—there were dozens of little towns like this one, each with its own quirks and charm, and she wouldn't know which one fit until she'd seen them all. But a tiny, stubborn spark in her chest whispered otherwise.

Somewhere between the dusty streets and Boone's easy smile, she felt the faint pull of something that was dangerously close to contentment—like she'd already stumbled onto her happy place and just hadn't admitted it yet.

She shook the thought loose and focused on the pride humming through her instead. "And Mom? Sweet Tea and Swipe Right goes live next month. I already hired someone to build the website. Then it's all hands on deck."

"You should be proud of yourself."

"I am. And if I'm lucky, maybe I'll even find my own perfect match while I'm at it."

Even as she said it, her mind flashed to a picture of a stoic, rugged cowboy with steady hands and dark, fathomless eyes.

The bunkhouse smelled like fresh paint and sawdust and something that had started to feel like a new chapter.

Boone watched as Vivi, who was up on the top rung of a ladder like temptation had decided to grow legs, was stretching to reach the trim, the motion tugging her shirt up just enough to flash a sinful strip of tan, silky skin that hit him harder than any bull ever had.

Her cutoffs hugged her like they were proud to be chosen, her ponytail swished with every stroke of the brush, and she hummed under her breath like repainting a century-old bunkhouse was the most natural thing in the world.

She looked sun-kissed, determined, and so beautiful he had to remind himself to breathe—because nothing in his life, not winning a rodeo pot or saving a ranch on the brink, lit him up the way this woman did just by reaching for a damn paintbrush.

He set a giant pink bag on the freshly sanded dining table and took a moment to appreciate how far they’d come in a single week. The foundation had finished drying yesterday, the foundation crew was set to come out tomorrow, and now they were painting and decorating the existing rooms that had already been sheet-rocked and stuccoed.

Hell, the place barely resembled the dilapidated eyesore it had once been. Now the walls were a rich, moody chocolate with soft blue accents—classy without trying too hard, warm in a way that made a man want to sit down, stay awhile, and maybe never leave.

Vivi had obviously been up there since they’d finished taking care of the animals, because his granddad’s old dining table, once a scratched-up relic, was now sanded to a silky finish and practically begging for varnish. The woman didn’t stop. Ever. The woman who had slept through banging pots now woke up ready to conquer—caffeinated of course.

“How was it riding the herd?” Vivi asked, her voice making the corners of his mouth lift without permission.

The woman didn’t know jack shit about cattle or ranchin’, but every day she found something else to ask him about. Even when it made no sense. But that was her way. Her superpower was making people feel seen.

“We rode the south perimeter, moving the cattle and making sure none of the posts were down.”

“Sounds fun.”

Boone wanted to laugh. He wouldn’t call sitting on a horse for eight-hours in the dusty heat of the day fun, but there was no other job he’d rather be doing.