Page 123 of One Wild Chance

It might be the biggest smile I’ve ever seen on that man. Bigger, even, than the morning he told me Rebel finally let him slide a saddle onto her back without getting mad.

I just hope to see that same smile on his face tonight. We spent the last few days turning this place into the barn of my dreams—greenery everywhere, my prettiest bouquets on every tabletop, lanterns and hanging lights, archways of flowers, and floating candles. I take one long look at it all coming together and have to remind myself that this is really happening. All thanks to the Chance brothers and their unwavering faith in me.

I finish adding the last touch to the archway at the door with enough time for me to run home and become a different person. According to Larissa, I need to shed my horsewoman image and glam up tonight.

A week ago, when I told her I owned nothing fancy enough for the event, she took it upon herself to find me a dress. Within the hour, she’d ordered six gowns from an online rental site made for people like me who wait until the last minute to shop. Now she’s waiting at my house with all six draped over the couch when I walk inside.

“Finally!” she says, jumping to her feet. “Take your clothes off now.”

“Well, hello to you too,” I say around a laugh.

I strip down to my underwear while my best friend gushes over every eye-popping dress.

“The blue one is gorgeous,” she says. “You’re glowing in it.”

“Am I glowing? Or just embarrassed?” I jut my knee out of the very deep slit. “This slit is so high, I’ll spend all night preventing a wardrobe malfunction.”

“Try the next one,” she says, holding up a mermaid-green one.

I slip off the blue dress and slide my body into the next one.

“Love it,” Larissa says, circling me with approval. “Definitely attention-grabbing.”

“It stops like four inches above where I’m comfortable.”

She gives me a wicked smile. “I’m sure Jaxon wouldn’t mind.”

“A wedding venue manager should not upstage the brides,” I tell her.

She waves a hand. “That’s not your fault. You need to wow your man.”

“My man is a cowboy. He likes me in denim and boots.”

She waggles her eyebrows. “Oh, he’s going to like you in this one, too.” She pulls out the cinnamon silk gown with the low back.

I finger the silk. “I’m not sure about this.”

“Just try it on.” She shoves it into my arms.

Once it’s on, I turn to face the mirror. The dress skims every curve I have and, apparently, never show off, because I spend my life in farm clothes. Then I notice the back. Or rather, the absence of it. It’s not too low by most people’s standards, but for me, it feels like a windy distraction.

“Nope,” I conclude.

Larissa gasps from the doorway. “Why not? You look incredible.”

“I’m hosting an open house, not auditioning for Love Island.”

“You’re creating the dream,” Larissa says, crossing her arms. “Besides, don’t you want to make Jaxon speechless?”

“That’s not important. This isn’t a date.”

“It’s extremely important.” She gives me a look. “That dress was made for you, Summer. And I will be personally offended if you don’t wear it.”

I sigh. “Fine.”

On my dressiest days, I am a boots-and-sundress girl. I do not own anything fancy, because nothing in Golden Springs ever requires formality. We are country people who like our potlucks with Jell-O salad and our boots with a little dirt around the edges.

But I also don’t have anything else to wear, so the cinnamon dress it is.