Page 77 of Wildflowers & Whiskey

Maeve leans forward, eyes bright now.

“What better way to pull people into a small town than real-life handsome hardworking cowboys.”

She's trying not to laugh at her own idea, which means she knows it's either brilliant or insane.

“We auction dates. City money will absolutely show up for that, and the boys—” she looks around the table, “will do it because it's for a good cause.”

There's no hesitation in her voice. Only a demand dressed up as a suggestion.

“Count me the hell in,” Bryan announces. Of course he does.

Maverick and Dean echo in agreement. I roll my eyes; these guys, of course they’d love the idea of being paraded about like a prize just to get some female attention.

“Excellent.” Maeve drops into the seat beside Naomi, pulling a blank sheet toward her. “Let's start a list.”

Naomi's eyes find mine across the room, holding for a beat too long with a cocky smirk that tells me she is up to something.

“Put Colt on there,” she says.

“Obviously.” Maeve grins without looking up.

I should argue. I open my mouth to do exactly that, and then I catch Maeve glancing up at me. Something about the quiet expectation in it makes the argument disappear before it gets anywhere.

I take a pull of my beer and nod once.

“Fine.”

I'll probably regret it. But the way they both smile makes it difficult to care right now.

I listen to Naomi as she runs through her plans for the event, showing off some of the artwork she’s had commissioned.

“Mom would’ve loved this,” the words slip out before I can think better of them.

I don’t really talk about her much. Not in this setting.

Naomi understands right away, reaching over and squeezing my hand lightly. “She’d have taken over the decoration committee, no question,” she says with a soft laugh.

I let out a quiet breath, my hand staying under hers for a second longer than I mean it to. “Yeah,” I say, and it actually feels good to say it out loud.

For a moment, I let myself sit in it—the idea of her being here, seeing all of this. Not just the event, but the life around it. The ranch, the people, this strange little family that’s formed without me really noticing.

It isn’t perfect. But it’s real.

And she would’ve liked that.

We get back to planning, the table filling back up. Multiple laughs overlap. Dean throws something at Bryan. Maverick reaches for Maeve's beer and nearly loses his hand for it. Maeve and Naomi have their heads together over the list, adding names, crossing them off, laughing about something I'm not close enough to hear.

I sit back and let it all move around me.

And it occurs to me, just like that, that this house has stopped feeling like a glorified staff room.

I would've eaten my hat if someone had told me I'd feel like this again. But here I am. And God, it feels good.

Chapter Twenty Nine

Maeve

I have decided I am never going back to London.