Page 109 of Tempting Wyatt
Fuck. Four, or even five nights isn’t enough time.
“Have you shown her the entire ranch? Taken her to the summit? Maybe take her up there, talk her into staying a little longer. I can handle your shit today.” He jerks his head toward the door, signaling for me to get the hell on.
It’s tempting.
I haven’t taken a day off in. . . maybe ever. The summit is the highest point on the ranch. It’s about an hour trail ride but it’s worth it. And Ivy would probably love it.
It hits me then that I want her to see it, all of it. Because I want her to love it. Because I want her to want to stay.
I’m still thinking it over when Isaac presses on.
With a shrug he says casually, “I mean, I can take her if you’re too busy.”
My jaw clenches.Like hell.“I’ve got it. Just don’t forget to fuel up the tractors when you finish up for today.”
He grins. “Will do, brother.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
ivy
THE FENCE CREAKS UNDER MY weight as I lean against it, watching Lucifer graze in the early morning sun. Somewhere, Wyatt, Isaac, and the ranch workers are busy. But there’s a lazy kind of peace here—the kind I never realized I was desperate for until I stumbled into it.
Lucifer finally ambles over, sniffing at my hand for treats I don’t have because I already gave him and Jasper all my apples and carrots. I scratch behind his ears anyway, and he nuzzles into me sweetly.
“You’re not so scary, are you?”
He makes a snorting sound then returns to his grazing.
It hits me then, a strange pang of longing in my chest. The realization that I’m imagining Lucifer will miss me the same way I’m pretending Wyatt will.
I spent most of my childhood pretending things into existence. Imaginary friends. Adventures. Whole worlds where I wasn’t the weird, lonely new kid eating lunch alone. I used to think it was sad. Pitiful, even.
Now I know better.
That loneliness carved out the space inside me wherestories could live. It built the scaffolding of the life I have now—the life I almost forgot how to love.
Lucifer returns his attention to me and bumps his nose against my shoulder, as if to sayBuck up, buttercup.
If it weren’t for that awful morning where I couldn’t write a word to save my life, and then the humiliating encounter with Malcolm and Heidi, I never would’ve run away from what I thought I wanted. I never would’ve found myself out here, breathing in air that smells like sage and soil instead of exhaust and desperation.
I never would’ve met Wyatt.
The thought of him—of the quiet man with calloused hands, his gruff voice saying my name like a prayer—unravels something in me I didn’t know was knotted up.
My heartbreak wasn’t an ending. It was a trailhead to somewhere better.
I glance up at the wide-open Montana sky, all endless blue and white puffy clouds, and let myself believe, for once, that sometimes the worst things that happen to you are just the beginning of the best parts of your life.
Maybe this time, I'm not running away.
Maybe I'm finally running toward something.
Toward someone.
Toward the version of me I was meant to be.
And a rugged and very bossy rancher I can’t stop thinking about.
