Page 29 of Rescued By My Small Town Billionaire

The festival was a success, and the proceeds were incredible. But it’s not just about the shop.

It’s Mike.

Turning my head slightly, I watch him out of the corner of my eye. He’s leaning against the railing, arms crossed, gazing out at the pasture with a thoughtful look.

The sunlight hits his profile just right, softening his rugged features. He’s quiet, but his presence is as steady as ever—like a rock I didn’t realize I needed to lean on.

Something deep inside me clicks into place—a feeling I’ve been dancing around for too long.

I can’t imagine my life without him.

The realization is so clear, so overwhelming, that my breath catches in my throat.

I love Mike Thorn. Not just in the way that makes my heart race when he looks at me, but in the way that makes me feel safe, understood, and truly at home.

I fold the letter carefully, placing it back in the wooden box. The words my grandmother wrote still echo in my mind:

"Love does not wait for the perfect moment, Becky. It blooms when it's ready—whether you're prepared or not. Trust your heart."

My pulse pounds in my ears as I turn toward Mike. I need to tell him. I need him to know.

But before I can say a word, his phone buzzes in his pocket.

He checks the screen, frowns, then looks at me. “I’ll be right back,” he murmurs, brushing his fingers over mine before stepping off the porch.

The moment passes. But my feelings don’t.

The rest of the evening goes smoothly, and I drive myself home in a cozy mood.

***

The next morning, I wake up to a note slipped under my apartment door. I’m surprised and a little taken aback. He must have left it early this morning because I didn’t hear a thing.

Becky, Meet me at the ranch stables after sunset. Wear something nice. —Mike

My heart flutters as I trace the handwriting with my fingers.Something nice?That could mean anything. But the thought of Mike planning something special just for me fills me with nervous excitement. I’d be up for a romantic rendezvous.

I spend the day working in the shop, but my mind keeps drifting to whatever he’s planning. When the sun finally dipsbelow the horizon, I slip into a simple, flowy floral dress—something easy and comfortable—and make my way to the stables.

When I step inside, I gasp.

The normally practical barn has been transformed. Twinkling fairy lights are strung between the wooden beams, casting a warm glow over the space. A small table for two is set up in the center, a flickering candle illuminating a bouquet of fresh flowers—peonies, one of my favorites.

Mike is standing near a sleek black horse, dressed in his best button-down and jeans, looking more handsome than I’ve ever seen him. He smiles—that slow, confident grin that makes my stomach flip.

“Hope you’re not afraid of a sunset ride,” he says.

I press a hand to my chest, my heart melting. “Mike, this is… incredible.”

He steps closer, gently tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear. “I wanted to do something special,” he murmurs. “Something just for us.”

Tears prick my eyes. No one has ever made me feel this cherished, this seen.

I reach for his hand, squeezing it. “You didn’t have to go through all this trouble.”

His eyes darken with something deeper, something more intentional. “You’re worth it, Becky.”

The words hit me like wildfire.

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