Total pages in book: 115
Estimated words: 112903 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 565(@200wpm)___ 452(@250wpm)___ 376(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 112903 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 565(@200wpm)___ 452(@250wpm)___ 376(@300wpm)
Smiling, I examine myself in the full-length mirror that’s tucked into a corner of Mollie’s former bedroom in the New House.
When I officially resigned from Ithaca University during a call with my adviser a few days back, I decided to put together a little last-minute Friendsgiving celebration so I could share the happy news—well, hopefully happy—with everyone. I want the chance to explain myself.
I also want Wyatt to see how committed I am to our relationship. By publicly declaring my intention to stick around, I hope he sees just how much I want to be with him.
Just how much I love him and how proud I am of the community we’re building here in Hartsville.
To be honest, I’ve gone back and forth a million times as to whether or not this whole thing is a good idea. What if Dad flips out? What if I embarrass myself—or worse, embarrass Wyatt?
Mollie convinced me to go for it. She was the first person I confided in after I hung up on that call with my adviser. When I floated the idea of making the already-grand gesture of passing up a dream job even grander, Mollie was immediately on board.
“Cash is allergic to drama,” she said. “But Wyatt? I mean, the guy agreed to fake date you even though he knew he was never gonna be able to keep it in his pants. Wyatt lives for the drama. You wanna go big, I say you go big. Love your man out loud, friend. Live your best damn life out loud.”
Which is how I ended up in this dress, a Gucci number I borrowed from Mollie’s closet. It’s special, it’s sparkly, and it’s giving me just the boost of confidence I need to, well, go big.
“You look fabulous,” Mollie says. “And you don’t look too too nervous.”
“Well, that’s a surprise, because I’m so nervous that I feel like I’m going to vomit. I promise I’m gonna try real hard not to ruin this dress, Mollie.”
She just smiles and tucks my hair behind my ear. “Don’t worry about the dress. Worry instead about how Wyatt is gonna break you in two when he takes you home tonight.”
“That man is feral in bed, isn’t he?” Wheeler asks wistfully.
Mollie is still smiling. “That’s what Miss Sally asked for—to have fun with feral cowboys. And look what happened! You asked the universe for what you wanted, and lo and behold, you got it.”
“You’re forgetting the twenty years I wanted Wyatt, but didn’t so much as lay a finger on him. I didn’t think he’d ever be into a girl like me. More than that, I was afraid I’d end up losing him if we ever did become more than friends.”
“But because you finally had the guts to ask for him anyway”—Mollie snaps her fingers—“it happened.”
“It did.” A burst of excitement—of joy and anticipation and heady disbelief—rockets through me. “I feel like I’m in the twilight zone. Like, I’m making such a mess of things. I don’t know what I’m going to do about a job. Yeah, I’m practically living with Wyatt, but we haven’t talked about moving in together—”
“He wants you to move in,” Wheeler says. “You know he does.”
Mollie solemnly nods. “It is known that Wyatt Rivers would have put a ring on Sally Powell’s finger yesterday.”
I want to protest, to wave off their comments.
Instead, I smile. They’re right.
This all feels so, so right.
“Point being, I had a plan—a very good, very sensible plan—and now I have no plan, other than to make a life in Hartsville with Wyatt.”
Wheeler shrugs. “Sounds like a solid plan to me. You’ll figure out the rest.”
“If y’all want to make it work, you’ll make it work,” Mollie adds. “I know it can happen from personal experience.”
I am so happy, I might burst. “That’s the hope.”
“We’ll let your dad know we’re actively working on the job part.” Mollie winks. “I get that you’re anxious about how he’s going to react.”
Anxious enough to feel like I’m about to pass out, yeah.
“I just wish he’d trust me. I’ve never made a bad decision or disappointed him. I’m not making a bad decision now.”
Mollie grabs my hand. “I’m proud of you for sticking to your guns.”
Let’s hope Dad feels that way too.
Mom and I have been prepping food for Friendsgiving for days now, but I still spent the morning in the kitchen at the New House, taking care of last-minute tasks—setting the big farm table with the prettiest china and glassware, squeezing lemons for the maple bourbon sours I’ll serve, taking the turkey we smoked yesterday out of the fridge to come to room temperature.
I’m back in the kitchen at half past four in my red dress, the plan being that everyone arrives around five o’clock. Wyatt had a meeting with Cash and their contractor to discuss plans for the new horse barn they want to put up on the Rivers’ side of the ranch, so he’s been gone all afternoon.