Page 27 of Live, Ranch, Love

Not cool with touching, got it.

“You were right—there are a lot of people out there who are unhappy, who are stuck living a life that doesn’t fulfil them or bring them joy, because they’re so focused on doing what they think they should do over what they actually want. But it’s hard in this world to catch a break or find the time to sit and figure out how to feel better, let alone implement it.

“I mean, I literally had to fly all the way to Colorado to be on this ranch to feel better again. So, maybe I can help others do that too, with this retreat. Give them the opportunity to feel the peace and freedom this place offers and start focusing on prioritising their happiness.”

My leg is bobbing as I stare back at Wyatt, hoping I’ve convinced him. Because I don’t think I can do this alone, and I really don’t want to leave yet. I want to stay here and help people.

He picks up the vision board to inspect all the pictures, face unbearably blank. God, I want to shake him.

Just tell me what you think, Hensley!

Then he grabs the paper underneath—a map of the ranch, where I’ve planned all the guesthouses and activities—including some changes in line with the seasons. It’s all colour coded too, with different pastel colours for different areas and parts of the retreat, which was incredibly therapeutic to draw.

“It’s a great idea, Aurora, but I don’t think Willow Ridge really has the right people for this.” Wyatt presses his lips together.

“I know that, silly.” I lean forward, shuffling into him. Gooseflesh covers the bare arm that brushes against mine, causing him to quickly glance at where our bodies are touching. Dark eyes dart up to mine, then back to the papers.

“It’ll be for anyone. We can do a trial run anyway to start with. I’ve got tonnes of contacts through my influencing who we could invite to test it out, give us feedback, and help to market the place. Once a few people with several hundred thousand followers start talking about Sunset Ranch, it won’t be long before we’ve got people begging to come here.”

“And what about money? To set it all up?”

“I have some savings from my influencing. It was for a house, but I have one now,” I say, gesturing to the ranch out the window. Besides, using the abundance I’ve accumulated to help people and pursue my dreams sounds worth it to me. Sometimes you have to risk a little to get the reward.

Now he’s nodding ever so slightly, and my body begins to buzz.

“You’ve really thought this through, haven’t you?”

When Wyatt turns to me, I can’t stop myself from wincing as a cramp hits. I’d been trying to push through, hoping I could avoid taking any painkillers, but this one catches me off-guard.

“What was that?” Wyatt freezes, eyes narrowing.

“What?”

“That face. You look like you’re in pain.”

“Oh, it’s nothing.” It’s not like I’m about to discuss my period pains with him—most men normally get all weird about that kind of stuff. “Just a headache, that’s all.”

“Yeah, the way you’re rubbing your back really suggests that.” He eyes how I’ve been instinctually massaging my lower back with my thumb, where the cramps normally start.

I pull my hand away. “Really, it’s nothing.”

Wyatt gives me a pointed glare, then huffs and stands up, heading into his bedroom. I’m slightly concerned he’s just got too annoyed with me being here and decided to leave, but then he comes back out and tosses me a packet of painkillers. He grabs a glass from a cupboard and fills it with water. Handing me the glass, he sits back on the sofa and nods to the painkillers.

“Take two of them, then give me your feet.”

“Excuse me?” I raise my brows, whilst he just throws me his usual dark scowl. “I guessed you might be a little kinky, but I never pegged you for a foot fetish guy.”

As his eyes widen, I can see him trying to work out which part of that to respond to first. “Correct, I don’t have a foot fetish.”

And correct that he might be a little kinky? Interesting.

Wyatt holds his large hands out, where I’m guessing he is expecting me to put my feet. I’m so confused right now. “Cherry used to get super bad cramps and, for some reason, massaging her feet helped.”

He’s offering to massage my feet. Who is this guy and what has happened to the Wyatt Hensley I was talking to just a second ago? And the painkillers, he’s… taking care of me. This is so strange.

“I think your sister might have just been conning you into giving her free foot massages.” I quirk an eyebrow as I swallow down the painkillers.

“No, I’ve definitely read up on it before. I don’t know if it’s just a mind over matter thing or a distraction, but apparently it helps.” Wyatt shrugs. “Now, are you gonna give me your feet or sit there whining?”

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