Chapter 27 Racing Hearts #2
A smaller building sits to the left that might be for equipment storage or feed—I can see a tractor parked beside it. Another structure looks like it might house ranch offices or a tack room given the saddles visible through the windows.
And in the distance—a quarter mile back—there's a ranch house that takes my breath away.
A beautiful two-story structure with log cabin aesthetics, a wraparound porch that seems to go on forever, large windows that are starting to glow with warm interior light, and smoke curling lazily from a stone chimney into the darkening sky.
Everything is meticulously maintained despite the approaching winter.
The fences are sturdy and look freshly painted—no peeling or weathering visible.
The paths between buildings are clear of debris and properly maintained.
The hay storage areas are organized and covered.
Even with snow threatening and temperatures dropping, the property has an unmistakable air of prosperity and careful attention to detail.
This is what a successful ranch is like…a real, working, thriving operation.
"This is Maple Ridge Ranch," Grayson explains as we approach the main barn, his voice taking on that storyteller quality I'm learning he has when he talks about things he cares about.
"Been in operation for about forty years.
The Morrison family owns it—you actually met Harold Morrison earlier today in Millbrook.
He's the one who gave you guys the tour. "
"Wait, the sweet older gentleman who knew everyone?" I ask, remembering the friendly guide.
"That's him. His son runs the ranch operations now. They board horses, breed a few lines, offer riding lessons in the summer. Good people. They take excellent care of the animals and I trust them completely with my horses."
We reach Snowfall's stall—a spacious box with fresh hay already laid out, a water trough filled and clean, the smell of horse and leather and grain filling the air.
Grayson dismounts first with fluid, athletic grace, swinging his leg over Snowfall's back and landing on the ground with barely a sound despite his size and the fact that he's still shirtless in December. Which should be illegal. Or at least require some kind of warning label.
Then he turns back to face me, reaching up with one hand extended, looking up at me with those honey-hazel eyes that catch the fading golden sunlight and seem to glow from within.
He looks like something from a romance novel cover. Shirtless cowboy rancher reaching up to help his Omega down from a white horse. If this were a book, this would be the scene on the cover. This would be the moment readers dog-ear the page.
I put my free hand in his—the other still clutching my phone with the live stream running and probably broadcasting every embarrassing second of this—and he helps me down with such effortless ease it's like I weigh absolutely nothing at all.
Like I'm made of feathers and air instead of flesh and bone.
He takes my entire weight as my feet touch solid ground, his hands spanning my waist to keep me steady until I find my balance on legs that feel like they've forgotten how to support a human body.
My legs feel like jelly.
Actually, worse than jelly.
Like overcooked noodles.
Everything is shaking—my thighs, my calves, my knees threatening to buckle. The adrenaline is starting to wear off and I'm realizing exactly how wild and intense that entire experience was, how fast we were moving, how completely I trusted Grayson to keep me safe.
"Did you have fun?" Grayson asks, his voice warm like honey and his hands still steadying me at the waist, his golden skin glowing in the sunset light.
I nod so swiftly and enthusiastically my vision blurs slightly from the motion.
"Yes! Oh my god, yes! That was phenomenal! That was incredible! That was the most amazing, thrilling, exhilarating thing I've ever done in my entire twenty-five years of existence! I've never felt so alive! I want to do it again! Can we do it again tomorrow?!"
His smile widens into something genuine and pleased and almost proud.
"Good. I'm really glad you enjoyed it. That's exactly what I was hoping for."
Then he leans in—slowly enough that I could pull away if I wanted to but quickly enough that I don't have time to overthink it—and presses a kiss to my cheek.
Soft and warm and lingering just long enough to make my brain completely short-circuit and all coherent thought evaporate like water on hot asphalt.
"You did so good, Reverie," he murmurs against my skin, his breath warm. "Natural rider. You trusted Snowfall, me, and you just went for it. I'm genuinely impressed. Most people freeze up their first time."
I blush so hard I'm probably glowing red like a stoplight.
My entire face feels like it's on fire despite the December cold nipping at my exposed skin.
He kissed my cheek. He praised me. He called me a natural rider. I'm going to combust.
I'm going to spontaneously combust right here in this barn.
Then I hear it—the notification sounds from my phone. Multiple rapid pings.
The chat is going absolutely wild.
Oh my god. I'm still on live. They just saw that. They saw him kiss my cheek and praise me. The comments are probably exploding.
I lift the camera with shaking hands, flipping it back to face me.
"We're here at the ranch, guys! Maple Ridge Ranch in Millbrook! You'd have to see it with your own eyes to truly appreciate how beautiful it is! The camera doesn't do it justice at all!"
I glance at the darkening sky where storm clouds are gathering more noticeably.
"I can't stay on live much longer though since a storm seems to be brewing and we're definitely not going into a snowed-in rom-com arc where we're trapped at a ranch."
I giggle at my own joke, but the sound gets cut off when I feel warm breath on my ear.
A huff.
Right by my head.
I look up slowly and find Snowfall's large head right next to mine, her dark eyes observing me with what I swear is curiosity. Her white coat is slightly damp with sweat from the run, and she smells like horse and hay and winter air.
"Oh!" I squeal in delight, turning the camera. "Look guys! Snowfall wants to say goodbye as well! Isn't she an absolute beauty? Look at her!"
Snowfall neighs softly, then reaches forward and gives me a gentle rub on my cheek with her soft nose.
The gesture is so tender and affectionate that I giggle helplessly, warmth flooding my chest.
She likes me. This gorgeous horse actually likes me. I'm going to cry happy tears twice in one day.
Before I can get too emotional, I hear more hoofbeats approaching rapidly.
Nash and Theo appear, riding side by side on their respective horses. Both of them are windswept and grinning, their competitive energy still crackling in the air between them.
They whistle simultaneously—some kind of signal—and both horses slow from their canter to a walk with practiced obedience.
Theo huffs as he pulls his black stallion to a stop beside us.
"You only beat me by a second, Nash. One second. That's basically a tie."
Nash rolls his eyes as he dismounts from his chestnut mare with easy confidence.
"If that helps you sleep at night, sure. We can call it a tie. You keep telling yourself that."
"Fuck off," Theo mutters, but there's amusement in his voice rather than real anger.
They both approach me, reins held casually in their hands, both looking at me with assessing gazes.
"Are you cold?" Theo asks, his olive-green eyes scanning me for signs of discomfort.
I shake my head quickly.
"No! The riding kept me warm! And the adrenaline! I'm totally fine!"
Nash doesn't look convinced.
He strips out of his flannel shirt with quick, efficient movements—revealing a fitted black tank top underneath that shows off his arms and shoulders—and drapes the warm flannel over my shoulders before I can protest.
The shirt smells like motor oil and leather and Nash's Alpha scent.
It's still warm from his body heat.
"We can't have you getting sick," he says firmly, adjusting the collar.
"So wear this for now. When we get to the lodge up the road, they have a cute little store with girlie cashmere sweaters or whatever you ladies love to wear when you're reading books and drinking hot chocolate and doing cozy things. "
Theo snorts.
"If you're trying to be romantic, you should probably read those books like Grayson does. That's why he's the smooth romantic one and you sound like you're guessing."
Grayson sighs heavily, pinching the bridge of his nose.
"You know I'm standing right here. And I'm pretty sure we're still on live stream."
I gasp, having completely forgotten again.
I look at my phone screen and see the viewer count has jumped to 2,000 people watching.
The comments are absolute chaos.
THREE ALPHAS
the flannel shirt moment omgggg
GRAYSON READS ROMANCE BOOKS???
I need this as a Netflix series immediately
I laugh breathlessly.
"He's right! We're definitely still live! Hi everyone! These are the guys—the pack I mentioned!"
I address the camera directly.
"I'll probably be back on either tonight or tomorrow with more content! Stay tuned for Christmas adventures!"
Grayson speaks up suddenly.
"Did you tell them about the unboxing?"
My eyes widen.
"Oh no! I completely forgot!"
The comments immediately explode with variations of WHAT UNBOXING and TELL US and WHAT ARE YOU UNBOXING.
I bite my lip, trying to look mysterious.
"Ah, it's a secret! But let's just say it's pink and it's exclusively available in Millbrook for now—well, technically not available to the public yet—but I'll share everything tomorrow in a proper unboxing video! So make sure you're following and have notifications on!"
I wave at the camera enthusiastically.
"Okay guys, I have to go now! Goodbye! Love you all! Thank you for watching!"
Just as I'm about to end the stream and save myself from further public embarrassment, Snowfall leans forward with curious intent and starts nomming on my hair. Actually eating it. Like she genuinely believes my hair is hay or some kind of tasty snack she's been denied.
I squeal in surprise and delight, trying to gently pull my hair free from her mouth without yanking.
"Snowfall! That's my hair! It's not food! It's definitely not hay!"
The comments explode with laughter emojis and all-caps declarations that this is the best live stream anyone has ever watched.
Grayson sighs but he's smiling fondly as he gently extracts my hair from Snowfall's curious mouth, his fingers careful and tender.
"Reverie's hair is not hay, beautiful girl. I promise we'll get you proper food right now. Come on, let's feed you something actually edible."
He leads her toward a feed bin while I try to smooth down my now-slightly-damp hair.
The comments are screaming with laughter emojis and declarations that this is the best content ever.
I laugh and finally end the live stream, watching the screen go dark.
My hands are still shaking slightly from all the adrenaline and excitement.
Nash speaks up, practical as always.
"We're all kind of hungry, aren't we? Why don't we head to the lodge, get some food in us, and then do the shopping River mentioned?"
Theo nods in agreement.
"Solid plan. I'm starving."
Grayson is already leading Snowfall into her stall, making sure she has fresh water and starting to remove her saddle.
"Give me five minutes to get her settled and we can go."
As if on cue—because my body has impeccable timing when it comes to embarrassing me—my stomach growls.
Loudly.
Embarrassingly, mortifyingly, cannot-possibly-be-ignored loudly.
It echoes through the barn like a whale song. Or maybe a dying animal. I can't decide which comparison is worse.
All three Alphas turn to look at me simultaneously, their movements synchronized like they choreographed it. Their expressions range from openly amused to genuinely concerned to outright entertained by my predicament.
I feel my face go hot with embarrassment, pressing both hands to my traitorous stomach like I can somehow silence it through sheer force of will.
"I... might be a little hungry. Maybe. Possibly. Just a tiny bit."
Why does this always happen? Why can't I be graceful and mysterious? Why does my body insist on announcing every single need at the worst possible moments?
Nash grins wickedly—that troublemaker smile that means he's about to tease me mercilessly—and walks over to ruffle my hair affectionately with his large hand.
"Hell yeah, food first. Shopping afterward. Can't have our Omega running on empty and passing out in the middle of a boutique. That would be bad for everyone."
I swat his hand away playfully, but I'm smiling so wide my cheeks hurt and my face might crack from the sheer force of my happiness.
"Stop teasing me! It's not my fault I haven't eaten since breakfast!"
"Never," Nash says with an exaggerated wink that makes me want to both kiss him and punch him. "Teasing you is my new favorite hobby."
Theo snorts from where he's securing his horse's reins.
"Your only hobby besides fixing cars and getting into legal trouble."
"Hey! I haven't gotten into legal trouble in at least three weeks," Nash protests.
"That we know about," Grayson adds dryly, still tending to Snowfall with gentle, methodical care.
I giggle at their banter, feeling warmth spread through my entire body that has nothing to do with Nash's flannel wrapped around my shoulders.
As I stand there in the barn with Nash's flannel wrapped snugly around me—still carrying his scent like a comfort blanket—watching Grayson care for Snowfall with gentle expertise and obvious love for the animal, hearing Theo and Nash bicker playfully about races and legal trouble and hobbies, feeling the warmth of being included and wanted and cared for in ways I never experienced with my old pack, I realize something that makes my chest feel tight with overwhelming emotion.
I'm excited by the idea that I get to spend the rest of the day with them.
Not obligated to be there.
Not anxious about doing something wrong or saying the wrong thing or being too much or not enough.
Not worried they'll get tired of me or find me annoying.
Just... excited. Happy. Content.
This could very well be where I'm supposed to be.