Page 90 of Live, Ranch, Love

I’m going to fight for what I want this time. Because she made me realise that I deserve everything I could dream of and more. There’s no way in hell that her coming to Sunset Ranch and igniting my life with her fiery radiance was for nothing.

She’s meant to be mine.

She is mine.

“Did she say anything more?” I demand, but Flynn shakes his head, mouth twisting into a frown. Spinning on my heel, I barely hear myself over the blood rushing in my ears as I shout back to Flynn, “You’re in charge of the ranch today. Don’t fuck this up!”

The speed in which I’m running back into the house to grab the paper I need to show her, then jumping into my truck and racing along the road feels superhuman. But she only left a few minutes ago, so I could still catch her.

The whole drive is a blur. My heart feels like wild horses galloping in my chest. I’m honestly shocked I haven’t crashed yet when I’ve been frantically scanning the roads for her truck. But I haven’t found her yet, even though I’ve been speeding the whole time. Surely I should’ve caught up with her by now?

Pulling into the nearest parking lot, I can only hope that maybe I’ve overtaken her, and if I stand near the entrance, I can stop her from leaving. Running, I scan the cars around me, hoping I don’t spot—

Fuck. That’s her truck.

The muscles in my legs scream as I sprint towards the airport, trying to summon the kind of speed I had back in high school, hoping to catch that football in the final game I played. The kind of catch that led to the touchdown that had everyone rushing onto the field and hugging me, making me feel like I was as high as the stars.

But even that feeling doesn’t compare to being with Aurora.

To hearing her laugh, all chiming silver bells and bright joy.

“Aurora!” I’m hollering her name through the entrance once I’m inside, dodging between groups of people, seeking out those colourful copper waves. But all I can see are dull shades of grey, dim faces staring at me.

“Aurora Jones!” I try again, now spinning around on the spot, hands to my head as I slowly feel my chance with her trickling away.

How am I supposed to see if her light isn’t shining for me?

What about the ranch? The retreat? Surely everything we’ve worked on together hasn’t been for nothing.

Please tell me I’m not too late.

This isn’t how it was supposed to end—

“Wyatt?” A sweet voice chimes.

I shoot around, letting go of the painful breath I’d been holding when I finally spot her.

God, she’s so fucking magnificent. Light shines down on her, dewy cheeks glowing beneath wide hazel eyes as she stands in the parting of the bumbling crowd. Just gaping at me.

“What are you doing here?”

Her brows draw in when I march towards her, unfurling the rolled up paper I’d crumpled in my tight fist when I’d been running. I present it to her, watching her gaze flick about the collage of pictures that I messily taped down—nowhere near as perfectly curated as the vision board she made.

But it’s still motivating as hell, surrounded with photos of Sunset Ranch, Willow Ridge, warm embraces by bonfires and entangled hands. Everything I want for us. It might look exactly like how we spend our days already, but that’s the point. I don’t want to live a life where I’m not waking up to Aurora or cuddling her while we watch the sunset by the bonfire, where I don’t enjoy working on the ranch that little bit more because I know it’s as much of a part of her as it is me now.

And right in the middle of it all is the selfie she took of us in the car after she kissed me. The exact moment I knew that there was no option but to devote myself entirely to her existence.

My hands are trembling, making the paper rattle.

“Wh-what is this?” Aurora questions, strawberry lips still hanging open. She keeps blinking, shiny eyes darting between me, my shaking hands, and the pictures.

“It’s our future, Aurora.” I have to bring the paper to my chest, just to rest my hands against something, to keep the vision board still. “The moment you set foot on Sunset Ranch, I started seeing in colours I’d never experienced before. You showed me how to let the light into my world, to start dreaming beyond the greys my life had been painted with. You showed me that I was worthy of having what I wanted, that I was worthy of being wanted. You showed me what love should be like.”

Aurora’s eyes flash at the word love, silver starting to rim their edges. She sucks in a shaky breath, then swallows.

“And this,” I hold up the vision board again, “is what I want. You, Aurora, are my home. This ranch was made for us.”

“Wyatt, I—”

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