A Photo Finish (Gold Rush Ranch, #2)

by Elsie Silver

Getting to know Violet was like discovering a medicine I didn’t even know I needed.

Life courses through her so vividly and almost tangibly—like I could reach out and touch it, bottle it up and drink it, or just keep it. Possess it, knowing I have the option to consume it whenever I want. Money can’t buy this brand of vitality. This is bone deep—soul deep. She shines like the sun, golden and bright.

I live in the shadows, and she’s like this ray of light that brightens my day. I’m so fucking greedy.

I should tell her she’s so much more. The thing that got me out of bed most mornings. My bright spot. My sunshine.

“You’re not broken. You’re perfect. And I’m a shitty fucking patchwork quilt. I’ve spent years picking up the tattered pieces of myself, every life event, every heartbreak, and slowly stitched it all back together. But I’m not good at sewing, Violet.”

“And now the edges are starting to fray. I’m coming apart at the goddamn seams, and you’re the one holding the thread that could undo it all.”

You don’t look at me like I’m tragic. You look at me like we’re inevitable.”

I don’t want us to be over. But I need him to be the one to take that step. And if he can’t get over my chosen career path, then we weren’t meant to be.

Hits too close to home

“I know you see yourself as dark. But you aren’t. You’re swirling color, all different shades, a mosaic. You’re complicated and beautiful. And I’m not quitting on you, so you better not quit on me.”