Page 72 of Will to Run

Everything at the ranch is moving as it’s supposed to, and there is a certain collective breath that I can finally take now that we are underway. I’m still not at the point where I have a ton of time, but things have gone off without a hitch.

Around lunchtime, Della pops into my office in the lodge, looking every bit as delicious as she does every day, and my heart picks up its pace.

“Hey, what are you doing after work?” she asks.

Glancing at the piles on my desk, I know I should stay late, but, once again, I love a bad decision.

“You,” I say. “Or maybe we can check that box off now?” I flirt, getting up from behind my desk and pulling her into my office before closing the door.

“Tempting, but I have to get back to the barn. What do you say you pick me up and take me somewhere?”

“I love it when you ask me for things you want.” A smile tugs at my lips. “Anywhere in particular?”

“No,” she replies. “Even if we just drive, I’d be okay with it.”

That’s an odd request.

“Everything okay?”

“Yeah, it’s great!” she says, leaving me to read between all the lines right now. “Pick me up at my cabin later?”

“Of course. Does six sound good?”

“Perfect,” she answers, kissing me and backing out of the office.

I’m left with a confused look on my face. Something is clearly on her mind, and the rest of my day is peppered with conspiracy theories on what it could be.

After work, I run home to change and grab some blankets before heading to her place, pulling up right at six. She’s sitting on her porch swinging, looking as beautiful as ever. The fact she’s not running late because she’s painting has me even more concerned about what’s coming. Maybe she has an exit plan to tell me.

“Hey!” she bubbles out, not even giving me a chance to open her door, just jumping in and leaning to kiss me. Her happiness is in direct competition with the anxiety that has me almost shitting my pants in concern

“If we head to the wildflowers, do you have everything we would need?” she asks.

“Yeah, it’s in the front seat,” I reply.

“Oh shit, did I sit on it?” She lifts herself up and searches underneath her.

“Nope,” I say, waiting for her to catch up.

When she realizes I’m talking about her, her nose scrunches up in my favorite way.

“What’s on your mind, Tatroe?” I ask as I take the truck down the gravel path towards the back of the ranch, to the place she requested.

Sidestepping the question, she asks about my day and a few other things before we arrive at the wildflower spot. Knowing she has something big on her chest, I throw a few blankets into the bed so we can sit. I lean my back against the cab and settle her into the space in front of me, waiting for her to speak. It doesn’t take long before she is talking.

“I saw Rose on Sunday,” she opens with.

I’m sure she sees Rose multiple times a week, so I’m not sure why that’s news.

“There aren’t many people who know my painting history, Jaxon. Like less than I can count on one hand,” she continues.

“I’m honored I do.” Taking her hand, I lift it to my mouth to kiss it.

“Painting again was never my expectation, but now that I’m doing it, I can’t stop. I’ve fallen so in love with it, I can’t describe the feeling.”

“This sounds like a good thing,” I venture.

At that, she pulls out of my arms and faces me.