15. Becky
Chapter fifteen
Becky
I never expected my life to change so much in such a short time.
A few months ago, I was just a florist trying to rebuild my shop, convincing myself I was safe from my past. Now, I’m sitting on the wraparound porch of Thorn Ranch, staring at the last letter my grandmother wrote to me, knowing my entire world has shifted.
The festival was a success, and the proceeds were incredible. But it’s not just about the shop.
It’s Mike.
Turning my head slightly, I watch him out of the corner of my eye. He’s leaning against the railing, arms crossed, gazing out at the pasture with a thoughtful look.
The sunlight hits his profile just right, softening his rugged features. He’s quiet, but his presence is as steady as ever—like a rock I didn’t realize I needed to lean on.
Something deep inside me clicks into place—a feeling I’ve been dancing around for too long.
I can’t imagine my life without him.
The realization is so clear, so overwhelming, that my breath catches in my throat.
I love Mike Thorn. Not just in the way that makes my heart race when he looks at me, but in the way that makes me feel safe, understood, and truly at home.
I fold the letter carefully, placing it back in the wooden box. The words my grandmother wrote still echo in my mind:
"Love does not wait for the perfect moment, Becky. It blooms when it's ready—whether you're prepared or not. Trust your heart."
My pulse pounds in my ears as I turn toward Mike. I need to tell him. I need him to know.
But before I can say a word, his phone buzzes in his pocket.
He checks the screen, frowns, then looks at me. “I’ll be right back,” he murmurs, brushing his fingers over mine before stepping off the porch.
The moment passes. But my feelings don’t.
The rest of the evening goes smoothly, and I drive myself home in a cozy mood.
***
The next morning, I wake up to a note slipped under my apartment door. I’m surprised and a little taken aback. He must have left it early this morning because I didn’t hear a thing.
Becky, Meet me at the ranch stables after sunset. Wear something nice. —Mike
My heart flutters as I trace the handwriting with my fingers. Something nice? That could mean anything. But the thought of Mike planning something special just for me fills me with nervous excitement. I’d be up for a romantic rendezvous.
I spend the day working in the shop, but my mind keeps drifting to whatever he’s planning. When the sun finally dips below the horizon, I slip into a simple, flowy floral dress—something easy and comfortable—and make my way to the stables.
When I step inside, I gasp.
The normally practical barn has been transformed. Twinkling fairy lights are strung between the wooden beams, casting a warm glow over the space. A small table for two is set up in the center, a flickering candle illuminating a bouquet of fresh flowers—peonies, one of my favorites.
Mike is standing near a sleek black horse, dressed in his best button-down and jeans, looking more handsome than I’ve ever seen him. He smiles—that slow, confident grin that makes my stomach flip.
“Hope you’re not afraid of a sunset ride,” he says.
I press a hand to my chest, my heart melting. “Mike, this is… incredible.”
He steps closer, gently tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear. “I wanted to do something special,” he murmurs. “Something just for us.”
Tears prick my eyes. No one has ever made me feel this cherished, this seen.
I reach for his hand, squeezing it. “You didn’t have to go through all this trouble.”
His eyes darken with something deeper, something more intentional. “You’re worth it, Becky.”
The words hit me like wildfire.
I am worth it.
We’re about to mount the horses when my phone buzzes in my bag. I almost ignore it, lost in the moment, but something about it makes my stomach twist.
Unknown Number.
I frown and answer. “Hello?”
Silence.
Then, a familiar voice.
Paul.
“Becky,” he says smoothly, like he has any right to say my name.
A cold chill runs down my spine.
Mike notices the change in my posture immediately. His jaw clenches, his hand resting protectively on my back. “Who is it?”
I can’t even process the question because Paul keeps talking.
“I know we didn’t end things the way we should have,” he continues, his voice falsely gentle. “I’ve had time to think, and I don’t like how we left things.”
I grip the phone tighter. “You threw a brick through my window, Paul. That’s how we left things.”
He exhales sharply. “I didn’t mean for it to scare you. I was… emotional.”
“That’s not an excuse,” I scoff.
“Listen, Becky,” he says, his voice lowering. “I just want to talk. Just you and me. One conversation. I think we owe each other that.”
I feel Mike stiffen beside me, and before I can respond, he reaches for the phone. I let him take it.
“Listen to me, Paul,” Mike says, his voice low and dangerous. “You don’t owe Becky anything, and she sure as hell doesn’t owe you. Stay away from her.”
I hear Paul’s sharp intake of breath. “Wow. So you’re the one calling the shots now?”
“You had your chance,” Mike says, his grip tightening on the phone. “And you blew it.”
There’s a long, tense pause, and then Paul’s voice drops, laced with quiet anger.
“This isn’t over.”
The line goes dead.
My breath shudders out of me. I hadn’t realized I was shaking until Mike wraps his arm around me, pulling me close.
“He wasn’t like that when we were together,” I tell him. “I tried my best with him, but he got in with the wrong people and developed a gambling problem. Who knows what else… and I had to leave him for my own good.”
“Yeah, things like that can change a person,” he says soothingly. “But he’ll have to work out his demons without you.”
“He’s not going to stop,” I whisper, feeling the weight of Paul’s obsession pressing down on me.
Mike tilts my chin up so I have to look at him. His eyes burn with determination. “Yes, he will,” he promises. “Because I won’t let him hurt you.”
I close my eyes, pressing my forehead against his chest, feeling safe and terrified all at once.
I know Mike will protect me.
But deep down, I have a terrible feeling.
Paul isn’t done yet.