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Before us, he hated being in Lucky Lake. He avoided it at all costs, refusing to see it as home. Slowly, without even realizing it, he found his way back.

Stone Ranch was thriving, better than ever. Cooper stepped up as lead rancher, pushing for better practices and putting in the hard work to make them happen. Tawnie had fully embraced her role as the ranch’s social media manager, her energy infectious, her confidence growing by the day. I saw so much of myself in her, that same drive and fire. If I thought I had a shot at stealing her for my own work, I would. But between her deep ties to Colton—and, of course, Stet—she wasn’t going anywhere.

Colton and I strolled into Central Park, the summer air thick. Runners wove through the pathways, dogs trotted happily beside their owners, and office workers sat on benches, scrolling mindlessly on their phones.

If there was one thing I missed about the city, it was this—the structure, the unspoken rhythm. Then again, maybe small towns had their own version of it too.

Loud music suddenly cut through the afternoon hum, and our heads snapped toward a gathering near one of the park’s open circles. A man stood in the center, a microphone strapped to his face, shuffling a deck of cards with exaggerated flair.

“All right, who’s my next victim?” he called, scanning the crowd with a mischievous grin.

Without thinking, I drifted toward the performance, drawn in like I always was.

“Come on,” Colton groaned behind me.

“Oh, hush, you grump. Just watch! It’s part of the experience.”

With a dramatic eye roll, he followed, weaving through the crowd until we stood right at the front.

The magician spun in a full circle before locking eyes on Colton. His grin widened.

“You,” he announced, pointing. “Tall, brawny cowboy boots guy.”

Colton stiffened instantly.

“Yeah, no. Hard pass.” His arms crossed, his scowl deepening.

“Do it!” I coaxed, giving him a playful shove toward the man.

“Yeah, Jack, listen to the pretty lady with you,” the magician added, winking.

“Jack?” Colton repeated, his irritation growing by the second.

“You look like some knockoff lumberjack. Clearly not from the Big Apple,” the magician teased. With a flourish, he waved his hand, making the deck of cards disappear, only to replace them with a bouquet of fake flowers. “Step on up, let me show you a magic trick.”

“It’ll be fun,” I insisted, nudging him again.

Colton groaned, running a hand down his face before finally, reluctantly, stepping forward.

Another thing I had learned over the last year? I could get this man to do just about anything.

I couldn’t stop the grin tugging at my lips. Colton had never come face-to-face with a street performer before, and judging by the wary look in his eyes, this was about to be the best damn show I’d ever seen.

“So, what do I really call you?” the magician asked, returning the deck of cards to his hands and shuffling mindlessly.

“Colton,” he answered, his tone clipped, already unimpressed.

“Ah, Colton,” the magician mused, twirling a card between his fingers. “You can call me Syd.” He held out a hand, waiting.

Colton hesitated, eyes flicking between Syd’s outstretched palm and his smug expression, before finally shaking it.

With a flourish, Syd began a quick display of tricks, fanning the cards out and snapping them back together in a seamless motion. He smirked at the crowd before clapping his hands together.

“All right! All right!” He motioned for everyone to settle as he slowly circled Colton. “If I don’t guess your card, I lose. If I do, I win. Deal?”

Colton shrugged, clearly unimpressed, but gave a nod.

Syd stopped in front of him, shuffling the deck once more before holding the cards out in a perfect fan. “I’m going to look away,” he announced, pivoting dramatically. “Pick a card, take a peek, and stick it back anywhere in the deck. Make sense?”