Page 71 of Live, Ranch, Love

Every time he’s told me he believed in me I think I’ve started to more as well. Part of me is beginning to wonder if maybe I don’t have to do this healing all by myself.

“We did it,” I breathe out in a laugh of disbelief.

Wyatt takes my face in his hands, midnight eyes sparkling down at me. “No, Aurora, you did it. You were amazing!”

Suddenly, his hands drop to my waist, and he lifts me up, spinning me around above him until I’m squealing. His laugh is a warm, thunderous rumble, rousing the butterflies already waking inside of me. When he finally stops, he lets my body slowly slide down his, keeping his grasp on me close and tight, every inch of his warm, solid body flush with mine. My feet hit the ground and I lean my head against his chest, knowing he won’t pull away this time, listening to his steadying heartbeat. The one I’ve loved listening to every morning as we’ve cuddled in bed, readying ourselves for the day.

I’ve always wondered if there was something missing from my morning routine, and I’m finally realising it was him.

Fingers run through my hair, stroking the back of my head as softly and rhythmically as the summer breeze. My arms tighten around Wyatt’s neck as he presses a kiss on my parting, then whispers, “I’m so proud of you. I knew you’d smash it.”

“We really did smash it, didn’t we?” I peel myself an inch or so away—enough to gaze up at the dark angles of his face, but still close enough to smell his warm, pinewood scent. The smell of home. “Everything went so well, Wyatt. I really think this could work.”

That we could do the retreat permanently.

That maybe, I could stay.

Damn, that’s a big deal.

Wyatt’s grip pulses, his eyes flashing momentarily. I wonder if he’s thinking the same, considering the eternality of my words.

But then he quickly pushes out another smile, turning us away from the main house. One hand seeks out mine, fingers lacing together with the usual ease.

“Agreed, but let’s talk about that properly later,” Wyatt suggests, leading me towards his place, across the grass. After all the mental and physical capacity this week has taken, I was kind of hoping to jump in a bubble bath now everyone has gone, to properly relax. “Let’s give everything some time to sink in, and in the meantime, I owe you a proper date.”

“A date?” My brows shoot up and I halt, but Wyatt tugs me on, directing me over to his truck. “I’m very intrigued what a proper date with Wyatt Hensley entails. Chopping up some logs whilst we brood over all the problems with the technology-obsessed youth?”

His face hardens, smile disappearing.

Catching me off guard, Wyatt spins me and takes my hips, backing me up until I’m pressed against his truck door. All the breath escapes my lungs, his solid, hot frame leaning over me. His eyes track my throat as I swallow, then flick back to mine, pinning me in place harder than his body is with how dark they are. Being at someone else’s mercy was never something I expected to drive me so wild, but when that someone is Wyatt Hensley, all gorgeous light-brown skin and dark features, I’m consumed by the feeling.

“Yes, Aurora, a date.” Wyatt brings his lips down to my ear, brushing them over the sensitive skin just below. Shivers race across my chest. “Because even though not being able to have you whenever I’ve wanted all week has been driving me crazy.” He nips my earlobe, exhilaration rushing through my bones. “I… I want you to know that this means more to me than just sex. I want to get to know as much as I can about you. I want all of you.”

Now he’s staring straight into my eyes, flicking between them like he’s searching for something as he steps back. A layer of exhaustion from this week is immediately swept away with a wave of relief at his words—one I hadn’t realised had been weighing me down. I’d been trying to force myself to focus on the retreat, as opposed to what was happening between me and Wyatt, causing me to ignore the worries that were clearly burdening me.

Because he hadn’t stuck to his rule. He hadn’t told me straight away what he wanted, like the guys said he normally does.

But now he has.

He wants all of me.

And I’ve never been more certain about something than I have about wanting all of him too.

The corners of Wyatt’s lips twitch, and God, I thought I was in a vulnerable position, but I swear he might be shaking a little. I think he’s nervous. Do I seriously make Wyatt Hensley nervous?

“That sounds wonderful,” I manage to get out over my fluttering heart, the one he seems to have some weird control over now.

Wyatt nods and grins, then opens the truck door for me once I shuffle out the way. “Plus, I can’t keep calling you Princess without actually treating you like one, can I?”

***

I’m honestly speechless when we pull up to the lake. If the golden blanket thrown over the mountains and water from the beginnings of the setting sun wasn’t enough to make this place feel magical, then the myriad of tea lights dotted around the decking, surrounding the cosy quilt and blankets, might just do it. Words continue to fail me as Wyatt leads me down the deck to where our date night awaits.

Now we’re closer, I can see the wrapped plates full of yummy cheeses, meats, breads, and veggies, alongside flasks of drinks.

This is almost identical to one of the pictures from Pinterest that I’d added to my vision board in the week.

“When did you do this?” I ask, barely able to get the question out in my breathless, awe-struck state. There’s a lot of things I hadn’t expected from Wyatt over the last month, but this has got to be the most shocking. He’s a bloody romantic, isn’t he?

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