20. Summer
Summer
If there’s one thing I’ve learned about expectations, it’s this: keep them low, and you’ll never be disappointed. Which is probably why I didn’t expect much when I posted the first picture on our new social media account for Wildflower Weddings.
Last night, I didn’t even bother checking the photo after I got back from the pond.
I was too busy replaying the evening, how Jaxon had looked at me with wild eyes, the feel of his hands sliding over my skin.
After jumping off that swing, I knew I was in trouble.
Jaxon’s smirk shot through me like a current of electricity.
When his hands found my waist and our legs tangled, it was like I’d touched a hot, live wire.
There was a fevered, vibrating force behind his eyes as they dropped to my lips, and I shivered, wondering what I would do if he kissed me.
His proximity had hypnotized me so much that when his pupils darkened, I was ready to swan dive right into them. Which is why I had to swim as far away as possible—I couldn’t afford to take that risk. Jaxon’s my boss, my business partner, and the man who is holding the keys to my future.
I told my ridiculous heart not to look too closely into what happened last night. The poor man is stuck in a farmhouse alone, with only horses and fields to look at. His limited social options in Golden Springs are the Blue Moon Saloon or bingo night at the community center.
I can’t pretend he won’t wake up one day and realize Lucky Chance never fit him like it fits me. He’ll leave while I’ll still be here making every bride’s dream come true—except mine.
That’s what I keep telling myself when I pick up Remi for hockey practice. Her mom, Meredith, is working second shift again, which means I’ll have plenty of time to sneak glances at Jaxon while I work on the Wildflower Weddings launch.
When we arrive, the team is actually practicing a drill that’s halfway decent. Jaxon notices us walk in, and the corner of his mouth tips up before he comes over.
“You’re staying to watch?” he asks, leaning against the boards.
“Yep,” I say. “I need to post another photo and see how yesterday’s did.”
“Coach, can you help me?” Remi interrupts, pointing at her hockey skate.
Without hesitating, he kneels down to tie her skate.
Something about seeing this man meet a kid at her level makes me enormously attracted to him.
I really need to get a handle on my feelings because it’s not even me he’s helping.
I just didn’t expect him to be so patient with her—or with any of them, really.
He pats her skate. “Get on out there and show the boys how to do it.”
When he turns around, I study my phone like I’ve been looking at it the whole time. I bring up the social media post of Jaxon carrying me in the barn.
When I see the numbers, I gasp.
There are hundreds of comments and five thousand new followers. My flower business has never cracked a dozen reactions on its best day.
And every one of the Chance brothers has shared it. No wonder the post is exploding.
“Something wrong?” Jaxon asks.
I glance up. “No, actually. Something’s right.” I turn the phone around to show him. “Your brothers shared it.”
“I told them to,” he says.
My brows rise. “You did?”
“You wanted it to go viral, didn’t you?”
“Yes,” I say quietly. I just didn’t think it would happen on a photo of us—or that Jaxon would care that much.
I click through the comments. A handful are asking for booking information and congratulating Jaxon on the new business venture. Then there’s a string of comments asking about our relationship status.
“And?” he asks.
“It worked,” I say. “Some people are asking about us. Whether we’re…” I wave the phone around. “…dating.”
“Ah.” He’s quiet for a second. “Just like Larissa predicted.”
Which means she’ll tell me to post more pictures. More pretending for the cameras. More opportunities for me to be in Jaxon’s arms.
“Whatever gets us bookings,” I say, even though I know that’s not why I feel uneasy about this.
This could be so good for our business. And so bad for my heart.
After dropping Remi off at Meredith’s, I head home to work for a few hours, knocking things off my ballooning to-do list.
First order of business: create a sign-up form for brides who want more information about Wildflower Weddings.
I put it together in about twenty minutes, then work on the logo.
I’ve always loved to design things, and I already have the wildflower aesthetic established from my farm branding.
I’m playing around with colors when the first sign-up notification pops into my inbox.
Someone is already asking for more information.
And they’re getting married in…six months?
That’s when I realize that at some point every interested bride is going to want to see the place in person. What I need is to plan an open house to show off the venue to potential brides.
I pull up a new note on my phone and start typing. If there’s one thing Golden Springs does well, it’s spreading the word. The only problem is that an open house will cost money I don’t have.
As if on cue, a text pops up on my phone.
Jaxon: Hey, you left before I could talk to you.
Me: Sorry, looked like you were busy.
Jaxon: What are you doing tonight?
Me: Working on the venue launch. You?
Jaxon: Finishing up with the horses. I think Rebel might be warming up to me.
I smile at my phone before I can stop myself.
Me: Are you bribing her with peppermints?
Jaxon: Of course I am. I owe you for that tip.
Me: Since you owe me, I need your advice on something. What do you think about an open house for the wedding venue?
Jaxon: Does this involve more promotional pictures?
Me: I mean, I won’t say no. Especially if it’s you doing farm work.
Jaxon: Living dangerously, huh? I could be shoveling manure, for all you know.
Me: We want to show a real working farm.
I don’t actually expect him to respond, since it’s more of a joke than a real request. Then my phone buzzes with an incoming video.
I open it and my breath catches. Colton must have recorded it because Jaxon’s on horseback, riding Scout along the fence line.
There’s barely enough light to see him, but he’s sitting easy in the saddle, looking like an actual cowboy.
He’s even wearing a cowboy hat and looks like a total smoke show, holding the reins loosely in his hands as he moves with the horse’s gait.
He looks like he belongs in the saddle, becoming the man I secretly hoped he could be someday. And there’s nothing more dangerous than hope when that same man could be gone as soon as the two-year stipulation is up.
Me: You’re riding?
Jaxon: Scout needed some exercise. You needed horse content. Win-win.
Me: You look comfortable in the saddle.
Jaxon: Don’t sound so surprised.
Me: If I post this, we’ll have another five thousand followers by morning.
Jaxon: You’re welcome.
Me: Brides are going to fall in love with this place before they even see it.
Jaxon: But the barn isn’t in the picture.
Me: It doesn’t need to be. It’s you on a horse. That’s all I need.
I hit send before I realize how that sounds. The video is pure bait, but hopefully Jaxon doesn’t recognize that. I quickly backpedal.
Me: I mean, a man on a horse sells the rustic vibe, right? I’m just surprised to see you in a cowboy hat.
Jaxon: Wyatt sent it to me. I’m not thrilled about it.
Me: It looks good, cowboy.
Jaxon: You talk like that, I might keep wearing it.
Is he flirting with me? Because I’m smiling at my phone like I’m a teenager again. He knows exactly what he’s doing with that hat.
Me: Enjoy your ride. Just don’t fall off.
Jaxon: I’ll leave that to you, Wildflower.
Me: That was one time!
Jaxon: Worth it for the ride back.
My pulse riots as I think of him riding behind me, his breath warm on my neck, arms bracketing my sides, reins in his hands.
Another picture comes through, a still photo of Jaxon on the horse, grinning. Warmth spreads through my chest like butter over hot biscuits.
There’s something about his smile, like it’s just for me. I stare at it too long.
He took these for the wedding venue, I tell myself. He wants it to succeed.
I post the video, saving the picture for myself. Then I set my phone down and get back to work, refusing to look at it again for the rest of the night. If we’re lucky, we’ll get five thousand more followers this week.
By morning, we’ve added twenty thousand.