Page 180 of Wildest Dreams

By the time that we’re back downstairs we take up a seat on the plush dark sofa, my eyes flicking out of the front window to where Tanner is sat on the top porch step, eyes on his palms as he patiently waits for me to finish my pitch. His large shoulders are slightly hunched, his breathing steady as he keeps his head down, although I can still see the slight bounce to his right leg, his biggest tell when it comes to him being excited and full of anticipation.

Well, maybe his second biggest tell.

The huge bouquet that he bought for my mom is sat in a glass vase in the centre of the coffee table – the rarest lilac roses interspersed with tiny Irish clovers.

I swallow quietly and blink back to my mom, my palms face-up on my lap as I pour my business heart out to her.

Telling her why house-flipping, especially with hidden gems like this inconspicuous small town lake house, will be beneficial to the business alongside their larger scale builds. How renovating a place like this completely aligns with their eco ethos, as well as bringing life back to these beautiful places, without in any way changing their original small town charm. New condos can look so out of place in the country, whereas house-flipping reinstates the true rustic beauty in a place like this.

By the time that I’m finished, Tanner is glancing at me over his shoulder, watching me through the large lake house window. His fingers are leashed together and he gives me a confident nodof his head – telling me that, no matter what, this dream was worth going for.

My eyes meet my mom’s and as soon as I see her gorgeous smile happy tears are immediately flowing down my cheeks.

I bury my face in my hands, shoulders shaking with emotion as she laughs gently and places a reassuring palm on my shoulder.

“It’s perfect, Aisling,” she tells me. “Of course you’ve got the job.”

Chapter 40

Tanner

One week later

I grip my fist tighter around the wheel as the Polaris lurches up the incline, mud shooting up on either side of the cage as I push the vehicle harder, getting us to the top of the mound.

The tall forest trees around the mud trail are dense and emerald green, canopying over the UTV as I get us into position for a messy slide down.

And for an off-road track that’s thick with wet dirt and slippery as hell, we’re goingfast.

“Tanner!” Aisling squeals, laughing as she squeezes her hands around one of my biceps.

She’s wearing a mudding wetsuit that I bought just after we picked the UTV from the rental, meaning that she’s in a dirt-covered black thermal, topped with a pair of khaki waterproof overalls. Her rain boots are packed with fresh brown mud, because the vehicle is open-sided and the track couldn’t be more slick if we’d wanted it to be.

I flash her a grin as I begin tipping the front of the UTV over the mud mound, removing one hand from the wheel so that I can give her mud-splattered thigh a rough squeeze.

“You ready?” I ask her, knowing that her answer is going to be simultaneously a yes and a no.

Regardless of how I felt about the contents of Aisling’s summer bucket list, I hadn’t forgotten about the final point on her checklist.

One of the first things that she said to me at the start of this summer was the fact that, once she and Fallon had finished up on her lake house renovation, she wanted to go mudding – an adrenaline rush that would also work to blow off some steam.

But I know that it was also on her list for a few other reasons.

One, because being raised as a city girl means that Aisling never had these country experiences, and her heart has been beating for the small town life for as long as she knew it existed.

And two, I’m pretty sure that this summer was secretly Aisling’s way of ripping off the Band-Aid and facing a fuck-tonne of her fears.

She might not be scared of driving but as soon as she scooched into the UTV I could tell that she was feeling tentative. I mean, who the hell wouldn’t be? Mudding is goddamn reckless, not to mention dangerous. But from the resolute set to her pretty brow I knew that this experience was about conquering a fear, exposing herself to a situation and then coming out of the other side better for it.

That being said, we were less than three minutes into her tearing up the dirt before she was half-laughing, half-whimpering, and begging for me to take over. Which, I can’t deny, was probably the biggest honour of my life – Ash trusting me so fucking much that she was happy to put her life in my hands during something like this.

So now I’m handling the wheel and Ash is free to take in the thrill of the ride, feeling the heavy pull of the tires through the wet dirt as we race up and down over every slope of the dense terrain.

She nods her head at me, her bright eyes sparkling behind the headgear, and I grin as I nudge the top of my helmet againsthers, closing my eyes for a moment and soaking up the feeling of how grateful I am.

She giggles and gives my biceps a rough squeeze, and after flashing her another grin I get us racing down the mud mound.

The dirt flies past the cage, wheels going hard as we jerk over the terrain, and I keep my eyes focused on the steering as Aisling squeals with laughter and delight. We hit the bottom of the slope, the UTV bouncing as I propel us forward even faster, and the air – scented like a downpour waiting to happen – lashes like a whip through the open windshield, wheels ploughing the dirt as we race toward a turn.

---